Page 37 of Love on the Line

“What’s wrong?”

Anne rubbed her neck. “Nothing. How’s Scott?”

Maddie sighed. “Okay, subject tabled. I get it. He’s fine. Since Sarah and Bruce are having their second baby, Bruce has been giving Scott advice on how to handle a very pregnant wife.”

“Ha. Bruce should know.” The man had doted on Sarah.

“Scott keeps stocking pickles and chips. I couldn’t eat a pickle if it was the last food on earth. But I give him an ‘A’ for effort. What’s going on with work?”

Anne zipped her briefcase. “I have an interview this week for a vice principal job and a meeting tomorrow to kick off a charity fundraiser for leukemia.”

“You’re so busy already, how will you make time for that?”

“Don’t know, but I will.” Her heart constricted. “It’s important. The school is working with the local hospital. One of my students was recently diagnosed, and we want to do all we can to help his family with the medical bills.”

“I’m so sorry. He’s lucky to have you as his teacher, and if anyone can do it, you can.”

“Thanks, sis. I gotta go. It’s been a long day, and I have work to take home.”

“Okay. Good to hear your voice. I’ll keep you posted on the baby front.”

“Make sure you do. I’m so excited for you guys.” Tiny bubbles tickled her chest as she hung up.

She glanced at her computer. According to Maddie, there were lots of flashy pictures of Wyatt with women online. Maybe Anne was being naive. So blown away by his charisma and good looks that she didn’t want to see anything negative.

With trembling fingers, she typed Wyatt Pearson into the browser. Images of him filled the screen. Some of football games, and others of him with women. Lots of women. Wyatt in a tux, looking hot as hell with a tall brunette hanging on his shoulder. Next a redhead, laughing and clinking a champagne glass to his. More brunettes, more redheads, a few blondes. He didn’t seem to have a preference for hair color. The only thing they had in common were glittery, form-fitting dresses.

She shouldn’t be surprised. A famous football player drew attention, but he’d sure had his share in the past. She scanned the images and froze. One of Wyatt with a supermodel caught her eye. He had his arm around the woman, whose head touched the side of his, bright smiles on both of their faces. Anne leaned closer to the screen. Valentine’s decorations filled the background of the post.

Dated three weeks ago.

Betrayal stole her breath. These weren’t all pictures from his glory days. That recent one was taken after she and Wyatt started going out.

No. This couldn’t be happening. Racking her brain, she ticked back through their conversations. They’d never agreed to be exclusive. He said they’d take things slow and be casual. Did that mean he was seeing other women?

Her gut said no, since they’d spent every weekend together for the last month, but hell, there were plenty of other opportunities if Wyatt wanted them. Technically, it wouldn’t be cheating, because she’d never talked to him about the subject.

She shut the computer off and glanced down at her turtleneck sweater with chalk marks across the middle. She closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her forehead.

Who was she kidding? Not even in the same league.

Her stomach queasy, she dusted off her sweater and stood. Emotions threatened to choke her, but she tamped them down. Right now, she needed to focus on getting to her fundraiser meeting.

* * *

Anne circled the hospital’s parking lot until she found a spot in the far corner. She’d come during visitor’s hours, so the place was packed. She grabbed her briefcase, locked the car, and headed to the information desk in the lobby.

“I’m here for a leukemia fundraiser meeting. Can you tell me what room it’s in?”

The receptionist pulled out a paper. “Yes, room six twenty.” She handed Anne a guest pass and pointed across the lobby. “Elevators are to the left.”

Bright primary colors and animal art greeted Anne when the elevator doors opened to the pediatric wing on the sixth floor. She stopped when she came to an open area with a television, chairs, and a couch. A group of children hooked up to IVs or wearing casts surrounded a man in a dark suit, white shirt, and red tie. The kids laughed and tugged on his pants. “Show us. Show us.”

A lump formed in Anne’s throat. Poor little things. She took a step to continue past as the man pivoted, and she caught a glimpse of his face. Not just any man. The same man who’d changed her tire. Her pulse sped up. What was the guy’s name? She frowned and tried to remember. Devon, that was right.

His hands were fisted in front of him. He opened them, and the children gasped in surprise.

“Where is it?” asked a small girl with a bandaged head and casted leg.

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