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  Elizabeth grinned. “All of a sudden, it’s ‘Tom and me’? My, don’t we work fast?”

  Amanda waved a hand dismissively. “Just stop it . . . I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. I gotta get to bed. We’ve got another long day of rejection and failure ahead of us at the Ball office.”

  “I’m worn out just thinking about it,” Elizabeth said as they both stood. “You know, I bet he kept a key,” she added, picking up her purse and heading for the front door.

  “A key to what? And who are you talking about?”

  “Tom, of course. And I’m talking about a key to this house. I’d use the dead bolt. Unless you want to just leave the door ajar.”

  “Mother!” Amanda feigned exasperation.

  “Sweet dreams!” Elizabeth called over her shoulder as she headed out the door. “In Tom’s bedroom, no less!”

  “Mom, you stop it. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She shook her head in mock disapproval at her mother and headed upstairs to bed. My mother is hilarious and awesome, Amanda thought gleefully. How has it taken me this long to figure that out?

  Across town, phone lines were burning. Amanda and Tom had been seen together, and by midnight, almost everyone in Hillside Park knew about it.

  Heather hesitated to call Sharon, because she knew how deeply Sharon had always fantasized about being Mrs. Thomas Harrington, but Heather figured if she didn’t break the news, someone else would. On top of that, there was a certain sick thrill in passing along news that was potentially devastating, even to a friend. Not that she didn’t love Sharon wholly and completely—she’d give her right arm for her best friend. But after all, what were best friends for, if not to impart a little suffering here and there?

  “Sharon, honey?” Heather asked when Sharon answered.

  “Is everything okay?” Sharon sat up in bed, yawning.

  “Something you need to know.” Heather went right to the point. “It’s, like, kind of a big deal. Amanda’s mystery suitor. It’s Tom.”

  Sharon blinked repeatedly. “Tom? As in Tom Harrington? Am I dreaming?”

  “No, no, sweetie. It’s true. She was at Nobu with Tom. In a room in the back. Obviously trying to keep a low profile. As if that were possible.”

  “Of all the men,” Sharon said, unable to keep the shock she felt from affecting her tone. “How sure are you about this?”

  “I’m absolutely, positively, one hundred percent sure. Dead certain.”

  Sharon was livid. “This just won’t do,” she said bitterly. “Of all the men! I never even had a chance with him!”

  “Do what you gotta do.”

  “You bet I will. Now it’s personal.”

  “As if it wasn’t before?” Heather purred.

  “Now it’s really personal.”

  Chapter 24

  The next morning, the only woman in Hillside Park who did not know about the blind item in Ellen Salter’s society column in Hillside Park People was Amanda herself. She and the children had fallen into a familiar rhythm of getting ready for the new school day—getting dressed; getting lunch together; for Sarah, last-minute homework review; and for Will, making sure that his skateboard, Game Boy, and iPod were all in perfect working order. Elizabeth, however, took the Hillside Park People, a weekly neighborhood publication. It fell to her to deliver the unwelcome story to Amanda, whose cell phone rang just as she and the children were stepping outside to begin the six-block walk, or, in Will’s case, skateboard ride, to school.

  “I’m just getting the children out,” Amanda told Elizabeth. “Can it wait?”

  “Not really,” Elizabeth said as the Vaughns left their house and began the short journey.

  “If it’s about last night—” Amanda began, but Elizabeth cut her off.

  “It’s not about last night,” Elizabeth said flatly. “Just listen.”

  “Listen to what?”

  Elizabeth read aloud, “ ‘Hostile takeover at the Longhorn Ball? Amanda Vaughn, who recently ankled multimillionaire hubby number one in sunny SoCal, has elbowed her way to the top of one of Hillside Park’s most important soirees. Since then, it’s been handcuffs and leg irons for anyone who gets in her way. Both Susie Caruth and Sharon Peavy found themselves in the grasp of the long arm of the law in recent days, and Hillside Park ladies are shying away by the droves from any involvement with the Ball, lest the same thing happen to them.’ ”

  Amanda’s jaw dropped as she listened in horror. Her children looked at her, as if to say, “What’s wrong?”

  “But wait, there’s more,” Elizabeth continued.

  “ ‘Tales of stacks of cash and high-dollar gift cards from many top Dallas emporia going missing are also a highlight of the new reign. Where does it end? What price philanthropy?’

  “Are you still there?” Elizabeth asked when she was finished.

  “Barely,” was the only word Amanda could muster. She felt dizzy, as if the whole world were spinning and collapsing onto her. “How could anybody write something like that?” she asked when she was able to start breathing again.

  “Write what?” Sarah asked brightly. Will was lost in his own world of skating and music, oblivious to his mother’s plight.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Amanda told her daughter, trying to sound brave. “It’s nothing.”

  Sarah studied her mother. “Whatever it is, Mom, it’s something and it’s not nothing.”

  “Mom, I’m with the kids,” Amanda said into her cell phone. “I’ll meet you at the office at eight thirty. We’ll figure it out then. Where did that appear?”

  “Ellen Salter’s column. The good news is that nobody believes a word she says.”

  “As I recall, that’s why everybody opens the paper to her column first,” Amanda replied sarcastically. “So they can find out what they’re not supposed to believe for the week.”

  “Try and look at it this way—at least it’s not like it was Alan Peppard’s column in the Dallas Morning News, thank God.”

  “But, Mom . . .”

  “Whatever. Stiff-upper-lip time. See you at eight thirty.”

  Amanda disconnected. She was seething, and she was scared. The article made it sound as though she were responsible for the arrests of both Susie and Sharon, which was absurd, because she hadn’t even been involved with the Ball when Susie was marched out of the office by the police. As for Sharon, the truth was that Sharon had been headed for state prison when Amanda essentially destroyed the case against her single-handedly. But what was this about bags of cash and gift cards? It had to be Sharon giving Ellen Salter the information, because she was the only one who had any knowledge that there was cash in the office, or that Amanda had taken it to the bank.

  If the article should have been smearing anyone, Amanda thought, it should have been Susie. She’s the one who was using the Longhorn Ball as her own personal ATM machine. Once again, no good deed goes unpunished. Amanda, glum, did not even notice that her daughter had been trying to get her attention for two whole blocks.

  “What’s wrong, Mommy?” Sarah asked, taking her hand. “What did Gigi tell you? She was talking for such a long time.”

  “A lady wrote some things about me in the newspaper that aren’t true,” Amanda explained, deciding that telling her daughter the truth was the fastest way to end the conversation. If she appeared to be holding back, Sarah would be after her like a bloodhound to get the facts.

  Sarah thought about it for a moment. “If it’s not true, then you don’t have to be sad! Nobody will believe it!”

  Amanda looked down at her daughter and shook her head sadly.

  “I’m gonna tell you how some adults can be sometimes. The less truth there is in something, the more people want to believe it. It’s like there’s a really dark side to some people—the worse they can think of someone else, the better they’re allowed to feel about themselves.”

  “I don’t understand,” Sarah said, bewildered.

  Amanda noticed as Will, obl
ivious, skated out into the street without noticing the early rush-hour traffic cutting through Hillside Park. “William Armstrong Vaughn,” Amanda yelled, “you’ve got to pay attention!”

  Will looked back at his mother, his expression saying, “They didn’t hit me, so don’t worry about it,” and went on skateboarding.

  “It’s an ugly thing about human nature,” Amanda told Sarah. “Sometimes, the worse the thing you say, the more people want to believe it. And then they can’t wait to repeat it.”

  “But gossip’s a sin,” Sarah said, still not getting it.

  Amanda sighed. “You’re right, Sarah, it is. Gossip’s nothing more than evaluating and exploiting other people, and it’s wrong but very easy to participate in, unfortunately. Too many people get their value from being the one ‘in the know’ and more often than not, they have bad information—and it’s very hurtful and damaging to people. Everyone’s entitled to their own opinion of someone, but no one’s entitled to their own set of facts about someone. So often, gossip is presented and then repeated as fact, and it can be devastating to someone’s reputation. Your reputation’s your most valuable asset, so when people are being cruel, they’re also being very irresponsible and careless.”

  Sarah pondered that and looked around. She noticed that one of the new friends she had made in school, a girl named Lacey Wood, born and raised in Hillside Park with family who had been friends with the Smiths for decades, was approaching. “Hi, Lacey!” Sarah called out. “Wanna walk with me?”

  Lacey eyed Sarah and her mother. “My mom says your mom’s a bitch,” she said, crossing the street without another word.

  Sarah burst into tears.

  “And everybody says your healthy eating is just a cover for your anorexia,” Lacey called back. “Nobody wants to room with you at the church retreat this weekend because they say you’re going to be making yourself throw up the whole time! It’s disgusting!”

  “That’s so not true!” Sarah wailed, burying her face in her mother’s skirt. “Mommy, how can they all just tell lies about me?”

  “Those little girls said you’re anorexic?” Amanda asked, astonished.

  Sarah nodded, her tears flowing freely. “They all said that.”

  Amanda had to suppress the urge to scream or to kill someone. It was one thing to mess with an adult. It was another thing to start a rumor about a defenseless child. That was unforgivable. Heartbroken and furious, Amanda grabbed her daughter’s hand and stalked after the other girl.

  “Lacey Wood!” she yelled. “You get back here this instant, young lady!”

  Lacey turned and glared insolently at her. “Well, it’s all true!” she retorted. “My mother said it. You were even in the newspaper! And we’re not letting you in the gymnastics carpool, either! They’re gonna tell you we don’t have room, but we have room. We just don’t want you!”

  Sarah, bawling by now, was shouting, “I don’t want to go to school!”

  Will, piling on, had taken the ear buds out of his ear to listen. “That’s ’cause you’re a big baby!” he shouted at his sister.

  Sarah wailed louder.

  “Lacey,” Amanda railed, “I’m gonna tell your mother what you said, and she’s gonna wash your mouth out with soap!”

  “Oh, then let me guess . . . you’re gonna have my mother arrested?” Lacey shot back.

  Amanda was shaking all over. It was hopeless. Suddenly she felt an enormous urge to call packers and movers and put everything on the next moving van back to California. It might have been the land of fruits and nuts, but at least nobody got into your business the way they did here.

  “I can’t go to school, Mommy,” Sarah said through sobs. “They’re gonna crucify me.”

  “Only if they’ve erected two crosses and not one,” Amanda said, thinking quickly. “Will, you go on ahead. You go to school. Sarah’s staying with me today.”

  “That’s not fair!” Will exclaimed. And then he brightened. “It’s okay, Mom. I was gonna ditch all my classes anyway.” With that, he darted ahead into the growing crowd of skateboarders and students making their way to school, and he was gone.

  Amanda was desperately trying to suppress an outburst that would’ve terrified the devil himself. Anorexia? Shutting her out of a carpool over this ridiculous Longhorn Ball nonsense? And let’s see . . . who were the moms we were carpooling with? Oh, that’s right, one was famous for having an affair with the married father of one of her kindergarten students while she was teaching at Hillside Park Elementary. The other was famous for shutting herself in at home alone every night, drinking so heavily she knows better than to ever answer the phone past seven p.m., chain-smoking twenty feet from her child who has asthma so bad she’s on a nebulizer for home breathing treatments, and for being the only mom in the history of Hillside Park to be cited for endangering a child by trying to drive carpool while still under the influence of Ambien! By all means, ladies, please feel free to take my inventory! I can certainly see how you’d think you were in a position to judge me and my family! Amanda was seeing red, she was so angry, but she had to keep it together for Sarah’s sake.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” Amanda told Sarah, lovingly stroking her hair. Amanda made a mental note to talk with Will about his school attendance. As if I don’t have enough on my mind already, she told herself. “They want to go after me, that’s one thing. But if people are going after you, well, this means war.”

  “War?”

  “It’s just a figure of speech. I’m not going to let you go to school and be humiliated. You’re just gonna hang around with Gigi and me today at the Longhorn Ball office. Incidentally, I’ve got a feeling today might be my last day as Chair.”

  Sarah stopped walking. She wiped her tears away and looked up at her mother. “You mean you’re gonna let them run you off? But the Ball helps sick kids, doesn’t it?”

  Amanda realized she had no comeback. “You’re right. I’m not going to let them run me off. You, Gigi, and I are going to go to the office. We’re going to put in a full day of work, and we’re going to get this Ball off the ground. So help me God.”

  Sarah brightened. “That’ll teach grown-ups to believe everything they hear.”

  “How did you ever get so smart?”

  “I’m a Cali girl. We don’t take crap off nobody!”

  “Sarah!” Amanda exclaimed. “Where did you ever learn an expression like that?”

  “From Gigi.”

  “I should have known.” Amanda laughed, set on salvaging the day and forcing it in a better direction. With a determined expression, she took her daughter’s hand, and they headed back to the house to get the car.

  Chapter 25

  When Amanda, Elizabeth, and Sarah arrived twenty minutes later at the office of the Longhorn Ball, they were surprised to find a chauffeur-driven Bentley idling in the no parking zone across the street, in front of Hillside Park Presbyterian. As Amanda’s SUV pulled up, the Bentley’s driver went around to the back of the car and held the door open. Tom Harrington emerged.

  “Tom!” Amanda exclaimed, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

  “Who’s he?” Sarah asked her grandmother.

  “That’s Mr. Black Mercedes himself,” Elizabeth said.

  “Really! He’s much younger than I imagined.”

  Elizabeth glanced quizzically at her granddaughter but said nothing as Tom crossed the street and joined them. “I saw the paper this morning,” he said, totally disgusted. “I figured you could maybe use some help or another person to bounce ideas off. Or maybe just somebody with a gun.”

  “You packin’?” Elizabeth asked Tom.

  Tom grinned. “I’m not, but he is.” He gestured toward his driver, a man who clearly tipped the scales north of three hundred pounds and bore a striking resemblance to Hoss, the character played by Dan Blocker on the old Bonanza TV show.

  “I hope you’re not paying for him by the pound. That’s a big boy.”

  “Even if I did, he’d
be worth every penny. . . . Am I invited in? Or is a man unwelcome in the sacred precincts of the Longhorn Ball office?”

  Amanda glanced at Elizabeth. “I think it’s time to pass an emergency bylaw to admit men.”

  “All in favor, say aye,” Elizabeth said.

  “Aye,” chorused Amanda and Sarah.

  “Good news!” Amanda told Tom. “You’re in.”

  Tom returned a smile, Amanda unlocked the door, and the four of them went into the office.

  Elizabeth turned to Sarah. “Let’s you and I go out and get coffee and doughnuts, okay? I think we ought to let these two do the high-level strategizing without our company.”

  “But Gigi—” She took one look at her grandmother and knew that resistance was futile. She and Elizabeth went around the corner to get coffee, but not before Elizabeth gave Amanda a big wink, to which Amanda responded by rolling her eyes.

  “After you.” Amanda held the door for Tom.

  “Wouldn’t think of it. Ladies first.” The two of them headed into Amanda’s office, and Tom took a seat opposite her desk.

  “We’ve still got no lights,” she said apologetically. “I’m hoping that maybe by next week, once we get our bills paid, we can get the power turned back on.”

  “I think the lights are the least of your worries,” Tom replied, looking around. “So this is the nerve center of the mighty Longhorn Ball operations.”

  “I’ll tell you who has a lot of nerve,” Amanda said, settling into her seat. “Sharon Peavy. How could she have said all those things about me to that reporter? Doesn’t she realize I kept her out of jail?”

  “You want to walk me through that gift card thing? That’s the only piece of the puzzle I don’t think I have.”

  Amanda summarized the events surrounding the Neiman’s gift card. “So I feel like I’ve got a world of trouble, and for no reason,” she concluded.

  “Yeah, you do. What are you going to do about all this?”

  “Honestly, I’ve got no idea. I’d like to tell all these people to go to hell, or much worse, but I don’t see what good that’s going to do. I’d really like to walk away from the Ball, but I don’t know what kind of example I’d be setting for my children. I feel like I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”