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Authors: Alyse Miller

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BOOK: Untangling The Stars
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“Sure, Hilary. What’s your question?”

“Well, you said to pick the anti-hero character we felt most in tune with personally, and analyze why we might feel that way.” No wonder Hilary was anxious. She was one of those students who just didn’t do subpar and this wasn’t a conversation that could really be had electronically. If Andie remembered correctly, Hilary had been the valedictorian of her graduating high school class. She was good in the classic literature course Andie had taught the semester before, though she didn’t exactly seem the type to be sitting at home writing horror movie fanfic. Then again, she’d also been in on the birthday gag troupe, which made the personality hiding behind her reserved front just a little harder to diagnose.

An essay on an anti-hero character you felt most “in tune with” sounds more like I assigned a wish-fulfillment essay. Oh yeah.
Andie could slap herself. Fat lot of good pretending Guy hadn’t been all leathered up and lurking in the back of classroom the day of Hilary’s last session. Obviously, her subconscious had had a fun time playing games with her when she’d rattled off the homework assignment because she certainly knew a particular anti-hero
she
wanted to get in tune with personally. Hopefully she could spin something worth learning out of this assignment. Analysis and personal reflection was always insightful.

“I remember. What’s your question?”

“Well, I can’t decide who to write about.”

“Really? Why?”

Hilary opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted.

“Well, I certainly know who
I’d
write about—someone real tasty.” The words were a lot more innocent than they sounded. Wearing a pink cardigan over a tasteful A-line suit dress, Tandy nudged her way through the doorway, pushing poor Hilary to the side. She gave the girl a quick reproachful look and Hilary practically shrank into the corner.

Tandy Cobb had a way of looking directly at you and down at you at the exact same time. Andie knew she shouldn't feel insecure in this woman’s shadow, but she kind of did. Tandy just fit in so much better than she did. Look at her outfit for goodness sake. Compared to Tandy’s A-line Nine West number, Andie’s cable-knit sweater and jeans looked downright homespun. And that was without adding in the ponytail
or
the googly eyes. Oh well.

“Sorry, Alessandra. Hate to barge in…” She waved dismissively in Hilary’s general direction. The poor girl had a look on her face like a mouse that’d just watched a cat stroll in the room. “But gala business calls. Got a sec?”

Fucking Tandy.

“Hang on, Tandy.” Andie pinpointed her gaze on Hilary’s startled face. Tandy may fit in better up in the administrative offices, but she was way out of her league when it came to students. Andie may not have the stuck up wardrobe to prove it, but she had the upper hand.

“Hilary, who is the character that you love to watch—can’t take your eyes off of when their show—or movie—is on?”

Hilary bit her lip nervously. A twinge of recognition crossed her face. Obviously, she’d just thought of someone.

“Well, I really like that old 80s
Beauty and the Beast
series—the one with Linda Hamilton and Ron Perlman? I always really loved Vincent.”

Andie chucked her doubts on Hilary clear out the metaphorical window. The girl was spot on, and it wasn’t some mushy wish fulfillment after all (thank God for that). That show (for those who remembered it, since it had lasted only three short seasons in the late 1980s) was one of Andie’s favorites. It was also one of the portrayals of the dynamic and oft-romanticized relationship between man and monster that had made Andie design this very class. Perlman had played Vincent, a mythic, noble man-beast with the face of a lion, and Hamilton an Assistant DA in New York. The show had focused on the empathetic bond of their relationship, as well as with a secret Utopian community of social outcasts. Perlman was perfect for the role. In Andie’s opinion, he’d nailed his portrayal of
Hellboy
, too.

“Why Vincent?” It was mostly rhetorical. Tandy impatiently clicked the point of her too-tall heels on the tiled floor but Andie kept her eyes on Hilary.

“Well,” Hilary looked nervous, but she swallowed and continued, “Because he’s Catherine’s guardian, but he never turns into some beautiful prince or anything. He helps us to see beyond the monster on the surface and get to know him as beautiful inside himself. It kind of makes me think of how girls are treated by society today.”

Andie wished she could hug the girl, but it was against policy. She’d been reminded before. No hugging the students.

“It’s perfect, Hilary.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she nodded for emphasis. “Perfect.”

For the first time since she walked in, Hilary’s smile wasn’t anxious. She beamed as she turned to go.

Andie waved Hilary goodbye and returned to Tandy, who was now featuring a bewildered-but-bored stare. “What the heck was that all about?”

“Class stuff. What’s up with the gala?”

Determination flanked both sides of Tandy’s pretty face. She poked Andie’s shoulder with an accusatory pink nail. “Hey, where were you last night? I must have called you a hundred times.”

“Busy. Just out.” There was no way Andie was telling Tandy about Guy. Luckily, it was an easier lie than she’d thought it would be. Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie, but it definitely wasn’t a truth that Andie was ready to share with anyone just yet.

Tandy rolled her eyes. She obviously didn’t believe Andie’s story but had more urgent matters in mind. “We heard back from Kant, Baker,
and
the Bronco’s manager, and all of our last-resort options that we didn’t want anyway aren’t even available. We have
no
keynote speaker for the gala, and that simply isn’t going to work, Andie. We need to fix this—
now.
” She swooped around Andie and plopped resolutely in her desk chair, fanning her face dramatically.

The way Tandy said “we” sounded an awful lot like “you.” Andie rolled her eyes toward the empty classroom and turned around. “What do you want me to do, Tandy? We have to keep looking. We’ll find someone. We always do.”

“The gala is in three weeks
. Three weeks
. I don’t know about you, but staying awake all night worrying myself silly over this isn’t good for my eyes. I don’t need puffy eyes, Andie.”

Tandy’s very unpuffy eyes sized up Andie’s glasses. “Why are you wearing glasses today? You look tired.”

“Allergies.”

Judging by the criticizing slant to Tandy’s eyes, she wasn’t buying it. Andie changed the subject quickly and took a seat on top of her own desk, since Tandy clearly wasn’t offering the chair back up.

“Look, it’s not so bad. If all else fails, we’ll bring in the dean of the English department—or maybe the provost. I know it’s not especially exciting for us, but it’s still a good title to bring in to a literacy fundraiser.”

“Well I guess that
could
work, but what a letdown.”

Grasping Tandy’s hands in her own, Andie gave her a reassuring squeeze. The girl was a headache more often than not, but she’d always been a good friend. Sure, Andie might want to shake her by the shoulders every so often, but then again, who didn’t want to give their friends and good shaking now and then. “We have a fail-safe.
And
we have three weeks. We’re golden. We will keep looking for a headliner, and no matter what, we’ll put on the best damned gala anyone has seen.”

“You’re
sure
you don’t know anyone else we can ask?”

Andie was glad she hadn’t mentioned Guy to Tandy. He’d been so worried about introducing her to his paparazzi, she definitely didn’t want to be the presumptuous one-date girl who started asking for favors for her friends. That didn’t feel too far from referring to them exclusively as “We” or bringing home a new puppy.

“No, ma’am, not a soul.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

Three classes, six hours, and seventeen graded papers later, the long night had caught up with Andie, and it was all she could do to keep her eyes open. She pulled her glasses off and rubbed her temples with her thumbs. The big wooden desk at the front of her classroom had never looked so comfortable, and seeing as how she’d spent more than a few nights asleep on its hard surface, that was saying something. She kicked off her shoes, twisted one leg up under the other, and laid her head on a fresh stack of printed research. Dr. Monotone McGee had published a new paper,
rah, rah, rah.
It could wait till tomorrow.

She opened her eyes to the feeling of warm fingers brushing lightly on her shoulder.

“Well, hi, Sleeping Beauty.”

The fingers on her arm belong to Guy, who looking dashing with the collar of his leather jacket turned up inside the ends of his hair. Double dashing—he was holding matching white paper coffee cups. Andie could never resist a man bringing her coffee.

Andie rubbed the back of her hand across her mouth and pulled herself upright.
Please tell me I’m not drooling
. Her hair had fallen loose and she shoved it behind her ears. What she wouldn’t have given for two seconds in a mirror. One date didn’t give you license to show up to the next one looking like…well, like you’d just woken up. There was protocol to follow here, and bed head and drool was at least a third date thing. At least she assumed it was; she’d hadn’t been having too much luck in the dating game lately.

“My hero.” Andie accepted the cup Guy offered her. Just waking up had left her a tad groggy, which was a good thing or she’d have snatched the cup from his hand like some depraved caffeine fiend. She took a sip and smiled. The unmarked cups didn’t need a bright label to tell Andie where it had come from. Cinnamon, nutmeg, and something else—Scott’s recipe had never tasted so delicious. “You’re a quick learner. I see you’ve picked up on the best café in town. You thinking of becoming a local?”

Guy laughed and pulled up a chair beside her. “Well, if your friend Scott has anything to say about it, I just might. Not sure if you’d have me though.” He nudged against her side lightly when he said the last, giving her a wink out of the corner of his eye.

Andie laughed and nudged him back. “I think I could manage.”

“He seems really fond of you, too.” Guy’s words had a bitter flavor to them.

“Are you jealous, Mr. Wilder?”
You can’t possibly be
. Andie heard the slur in her words. The chai was like a sweet lullaby, lulling her back to sleep.

“Not in the way you think.” Guy’s teasing smile evaporated into a pout. He took a silent sip from his cup and kept his eyes downcast. After last night, Andie had almost forgotten Guy could look like that. That anxious, brooding man she’d first met seemed like a stranger from a lifetime ago. Last Night Guy was much more fun. That was the Guy she wanted to see again now.

“Then, why so glum?”

“Oh, nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Guy laid his cheek against the top of her head. His words were kind, but his tone almost reeked of condescension. Andie could see that Guy’s jaw had set back into that glowering, rigid line. It was the same one he’d worn when he’d gotten so pissy that she hadn’t carried a giant neon sign announcing “I’m the Professor” when they’d first met.

Andie rolled her eyes and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
Not this again. So much for Last Night Guy.
“Okay then. I won’t. Thanks for the latte.” The all too familiar feel of tension sizzled between them.

With her eyes rolled upward, she could see him glare stubbornly at her, but she was determined not to break first. He could glare to kingdom come. Minutes ticked by with neither of them speaking. Finally, Guy broke. He made a frustrated, groaning sound. The edge of his jaw softened. “It’s nothing, Andie. Really.” He attempted a kiss on her cheek, but she turned her head slightly. His lips brushed her hair instead.

“Andie,” he pleaded. The absurdity made her giggle. As much as she hated false “nothings,” she didn’t need to push it. He’d tell her eventually. He tried her cheek for a kiss again. This time she stayed still, but just out of the reach of Guy’s lips.

“Aw, Andie.” Guy’s voice was playful and the words came out in a singsong whisper, like John Travolta serenading Olivia Newton-John in
Grease
. “
Oh, Sandy…”

“Hmm?” She tried to give him the cold shoulder, but let out a small laugh. Damn him for being so stinking cute.

“Andie.”

She didn’t avoid his kiss this time. Instead, she turned to face him.

When he moved in to kiss her this time, she allowed it to land. It wasn’t a playful kiss. It was tender and intimate with soft, with rolling lips and careful tongues. For a second, Guy paused long enough for Andie to open her eyes and see him gazing back at her, and then his palm cupped against the side of her face and brought her back to him. He held her and kissed her, and she never wanted it to end.

BOOK: Untangling The Stars
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