The Friend Game (Games for Two #1)

Chapter 33

“SO SORRY I’M late,” Lexie goes on, looking smugly around the room until she finds me. Her eyebrows pop up almost imperceptibly and her smirk deepens. “I got caught up dealing with a little snafu over at The Chapman. You know,” she’s staring straight at me as she speaks, “the prestigious art gallery that Hannah here managed to get some of our kids’ artwork into? Odd how she managed to do that with so little clout of her own in the art world.” She cocks her head as if pondering this.

Cold dread drenches my body as I transfer my attention to Marshall. Is she suggesting what I think she’s suggesting? Did Marshall get the kids that invitation? No. No. No! My head starts shaking back and forth like it’s the bob of a pendulum.

“Oh wait,” Lexie lets out a fake laugh, “she didn’t. Her boyfriend did.”

Everyone looks at Luke. Except for me, of course. My gaze stays fixed on Lexie like a bystander unable to look away from the car wreck in front of them.

“Sorry, not that boyfriend,” Lexie corrects. “Although, congratulations to the two of you,” she says, lifting a hand to Luke, then moving it over to me. “Such a lovely speech you gave on Hannah’s behalf, Pastor. It almost makes me sad that I have to be the one to spoil things between you. By the way, have you met Marshall Donovan?” She angles her body toward Marshall and he steps forward. “Hannah’s married boyfriend?”

“Woah,” Marshall speaks for the first time, “I’m not married,” he says.

“Oh, right. I apologize,” Lexie says hastily. “You were engaged to be married. To your long-time, live-in girlfriend but then you met Hannah.” She clucks her tongue in disapproval. “And she had you rethinking that choice.”

I’m frozen in my seat. I should stand up and refute all of these claims she’s making. Tell everyone that it wasn’t like that. I didn’t know he was engaged! But I can’t move. Some part of me is reminding me that Lexie isn’t completely lying. Unwittingly or not, I did play the part of the other woman. And I deserve this penance.

“Oh get off your high horse!” Jill is up off her feet and storming toward Marshall and Lexie, Brooke not far behind her. “And you,” she jabs the air in the direction of Marshall, “how dare you even set foot anywhere near my sister, you, you,” Jill scrambles for the right word, seeming to remember that she is inside a Christian school, “butthead,” she finishes.

“Funny,” Lexie interjects with a laugh, “that’s the same word your daughter used when she told me all about Marshall, Jill.” She mimics a child’s speech as she adds, “My Aunt Hannah has a butthead boyfriend.”

Ellie. Horror chokes me. I thought she’d outed my relationship with Luke to Lexie, but she’d done far worse by telling her about Marshall.

“Didn’t take much digging on my part to find out the rest,” Lexie goes on. “What a disaster your last art show was, Hannah.” She shakes her head with another clucking sound.

“Yeah, thanks to him!” Jill cries, looking more flustered than I’ve ever seen her. The news that her daughter outed me has clearly shaken her. I wish I could tell her that I don’t blame Ellie. She’s only a child, after all. But I can’t seem to make any words come out of my mouth.

“I’d like to wipe that smirk right off your face,” Brooke announces.

“Ladies,” Marshall is unperturbed by their ire, “have I mentioned how nice it is to see you both again.”

“The feeling is not mutual,” Brooke seethes. “You skeevy a– ”

“Donkey!” Jill cuts in quickly. “You skeevy donkey!”

“Look,” Marshall actually looks bored, “I only came here because this woman here showed up at the gallery saying there was a problem with the Grace Canyon submissions for the Desert Sunrise exhibit. She asked if I could come down and help her fix it, which of course I was happy to do.” His gaze fixes on me. “As I mentioned in my email, I am more than happy to discuss any issues that might arise with you, Hannah. Perhaps over that dinner we discussed in your classroom the other day.”

My mouth opens and closes like a fish as I try to get my bearings back. Dinner? I definitely did not agree to go to dinner with him! In fact, I distinctly remember rejecting his invitation. And what email? The only email I got was from the director of the exhibit saying that he was pleased to have received my submissions and I should feel free to follow up with any questions or issues that may arise. Sincerely, M.T.D. —Desert Sunrise Exhibit Director.

The other shoe drops. Marshall is the director of the exhibit. M.T.D. is him, Marshall Thomas Donovan. Here I thought it was just the exhibit director being quirky, signing only his initials. But of course, it was Marshall all along—luring me in under false pretenses. He knew I’d never be able to resist having my students' art showcased at such a prestigious gallery. Then once I discovered he was to thank for the opportunity I’d feel indebted to him.

It’s the beginning of our relationship all over again. Same dynamics—him using his power and connections to manipulate me into feeling things for him. To control me. Only it won’t work this time.

“Wait, you’ve been emailing Marshall?” Jill is aghast. “You knew it was him running the exhibit and you still did it?”

“You were going to go to dinner with him?” Brooke cries. “Hannah, what were you thinking?”

“What?” I finally find my voice. “No! Of course not!”

But my adamant denial is drowned out by Lexie speaking over me. “Parents and congregation members, I ask you, is this the type of person we want molding the young minds of our precious children? Sure she’s fun, but she’s dating a married man.”

“I am not!” I cry, getting to my feet. “I am not dating Marshall!”

“So you say,” Lexie says flatly. “But you have a track record of lying to keep yourself out of hot water.”

I rear back like I’ve been slapped. “I’m not lying,” I say weakly. “I swear, I’m not dating that man.” I point to Marshall. “I did a long time ago, and yes, he was engaged at the time,” the whole room seems to gasp at this, but I continue, desperate to explain, “but I didn't know that he was getting married and as soon as I found out I broke things off with him.”

“A likely story,” Lexie sniffs. “What’s worse is now you’ve sunk your claws into our beloved pastor. Your second illicit affair.”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Jill re-enters the conversation, coming to my defense, but I barely hear whatever she’s saying. I’m too busy looking back at Luke, my heart sinking as I see the confusion and hurt on his face.

But why? He knew about Marshall. I know how bad this must look to everyone else here, but Luke already knew about what happened with Marshall. So why does he look as if I’ve ripped his heart out?

“Luke?” I whisper his name, but he doesn’t acknowledge me.

“That’s enough, Lexie,” his voice rings with authority and the whole room goes silent. “I am extremely saddened by the lengths you’re willing to go to to besmirch Miss Garza’s character all because your daughter’s art didn’t get submitted to the category you would have preferred.” I should feel better that he’s coming to my aid, but he sounds so distant and formal. Like he’d say this on anyone’s behalf .

“No, not just saddened,” he amends, “disgusted. This is not the type of behavior I would expect from a parent at this school, let alone from a member of our congregation. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave and we can set up a meeting with Principal Novak to discuss what changes we’ll need to see going forward if your children are going to remain at Grace Canyon.”

Lexie gapes at him, her face pale. I know Luke faces off with her on things from time to time, but I’d hazard a guess that this is the most public rebuke she’s ever received.

I don’t feel any triumph, though. I’m too sickened by what’s just happened, too torn up at the realization that I likely won’t walk out of here with a job tonight. Worse, I think I may have lost Luke.

No, I force that thought away. He’s not going to leave me over this. He said as much earlier today. That I needed to stop worrying about tarnishing his reputation. That’s what he said. I remember.

Only now that he’s having to put his money where his mouth is, it would appear he’s having second thoughts about his grand assurances.

And I don’t blame him.

I blame myself for dragging him into this mess in the first place. I was so selfish. So misguided in my actions since the very first day I first set foot in that art classroom .

“You can’t do that,” Lexie finally says. “I am the lifeblood of this place.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Luke says, “Jesus is the lifeblood of this place.”

His pronouncement is followed by a long silence, but then—

“Here, here!” Someone from the crowd says. “Preach the truth, Pastor.”

“Praise Jesus!” Another person shouts.

“Come into this place, Lord Jesus,” Etta enthuses, lifting her hands.

Similar cries erupt around the room one after the other. Twin spots of color appear on Lexie’s cheekbones, then she whirls around and hurries out of the room.

I turn back to look at Luke, but he’s busy saying something to George. Looking somber, George shakes his head, but Luke says something else and George gives a resigned nod, glancing my way with clear consternation on his face. My eyes are wide and unblinking as Luke steps back from his dad and addresses the crowd.

“I’m sure many of you have questions for me, but tonight was always meant to be about Miss Garza and her employment here at Grace Canyon. I have already made my statement on the subject and my opinion remains unchanged, but in light of recent events I’m afraid my presence would only serve as a distraction. With that said, I am going to take my leave. I will be available via email or during my usual office hours. Thank you.” He nods once then exits the room through its other door, not looking in my direction at all.

I sit there, stunned. My heart sputters in my chest like a car engine about to die. Wait— am I dying? I feel like I’m dying.

Luke left.

He left.

“Well,” George booms to the room, “this has been quite a dramatic meeting. You,” he catches sight of someone in the back, “you should be going now. You’ve caused enough trouble.” In a daze I turn to see that Marshall is still standing there. As are Jill and Brooke, both still scowling at him.

Marshall narrows his eyes. “You do realize it’s down to me that your school was invited to participate in the Desert Sunrise exhibit at The Chapman Gallery, don’t you?”

“What’s your point?” George asks.

“I suppose I’d expect a greater show of gratitude and appreciation,” Marshall says, puffing up his chest in importance.

“How’s this for appreciation?” Brooke snaps, shaking a finger at him. “We’d appreciate it if you’d leave.”

“Well,” Marshall crosses his arms across his chest, ignoring them both to seek me out, “I came here in hopes of talking to Hannah. She refused to speak with me last time, but now that she knows I’m responsible for getting her students invited into the exhibit I assume she’ll be more open to a conversation. Right, Hannah?”

I blink across the room at him barely even comprehending what he’s saying.

Luke left.

He left.

“Hannah?” he repeats my name, a bite of impatience in his tone now.

I get to my feet.

Luke left.

He left.

So what am I still doing here?

“That’s what I thought,” Marshall says, shooting a smug look at my sisters. Brooke practically growls at him, meanwhile Jill steps toward me, concern etched across her features.

I focus on her, ignoring everyone else in the room. Jill will understand. And if anyone can represent me better than I can represent myself it’s her. “I have to go,” I say a bit numbly. I can’t believe I’m doing this. My job is at stake.

But some things, or rather, some people are more important than jobs.

“Hannah,” Jill implores, “you can’t be serious. You’re going with him?”

“No,” my voice is ragged. My whole body feels weak, like it’s missing its other half.“I have to–” I break off, looking desperately back at the door Luke walked through.

Understanding dawns on her features, and she nods, striding the rest of the way forward. “Of course. Go. I got this.” She reaches into her purse, her hand emerging holding a shiny red button that I can see reads: Hannah Garza: finding your way into your heart through art.

I don’t hesitate a second longer, racing toward the door Luke walked through.

“Hannah!” Marshall calls after me in shock, but I don’t turn back, I just push through the door and into the silence of the hallway. I have to find Luke.