by Wendy Wax
The theme song from Jaws began to play in Amanda’s head. “Da dum . . . da dum . . .”
The appropriately named Tiffany grabbed Rob’s arm as they reached the dugout. Stopping at the chain-link fence, Rob leaned forward to say something to Wyatt and the hot flame of anger ignited in Amanda’s stomach.
Leaving them had been unconscionable, but showing up here with this . . . child . . . was beyond belief. Amanda’s anger built; every move they made, Rob’s laugh, Tiffany’s flick of her hair, the fact that they were breathing when she could not, stoked that flame into a billowing inferno.
How could he do this? How dare he do this? No longer caring what kind of show they put on for those assembled, Amanda rose and walked down the steps and directly toward her husband. It was hard to see him, what with the red haze before her eyes and all, but she continued to move forward as if some unseen hand pushed from behind. She could not let this travesty continue.
Suddenly understanding the concept of second-degree murder, Amanda imagined the headlines if she were to give in to the bloodlust she felt right now: DISCARDED WIFE GOES BERSERK AT BALL FIELD. BASEBALL MOM BATS CHEATING HUSBAND OVER LEFT-FIELD FENCE. No jury with a married woman over thirty-five on it would convict her.
Every eye in the stands was focused on Amanda’s back, but she told herself it didn’t matter because this couldn’t possibly be happening. As she reached the ground and began to move toward the dugout, the whole situation turned surreal; this was not just her facing down Rob, but WonderWife facing down every dastardly husband who had dared to spit in the face of his family.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed when she reached them. “How could you bring her here?”
Tiffany flushed with surprise and Amanda wondered exactly what the girl had expected.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Wyatt swivel around on the dugout bench to watch them. His face was white, the freckles across the bridge of his nose stood out in stark relief.
“It’s OK, Wy,” she said, though of course it wasn’t. “You just focus on your game, you hear? We’re going to work this out.”
The coach stepped up next to Wyatt. He placed a hand on her son’s shoulder and gave Rob a steely look. Thank God for Dan Donovan. “You all right, Amanda?”
“Yes, thanks.”
Donovan led Wyatt to the other end of the dugout, out of earshot. She looked Tiffany in the eye.
“You’re dating a married man and you come to a place where his wife and child will be?”
“Oh, Robbie’s going to. . . .”
She stepped closer, needing to invade their personal space in the same way they’d invaded hers. “Shame on you!” Amanda said, angered anew by the inadequacy of her words. “Shame on both of you!”
“But, Robbie, you said—” the girl began.
“It’s not Robbie.” Amanda put every ounce of disdain she was feeling into the nickname. “His name is Rob, and at the moment he’s still married to me. He and I need to have a conversation. We’re not going to have that conversation here in front of an audience. You can go sit down until we’re done, or you can go play on the slide, I don’t care which. But if I see your face again tonight, I’m going to rip every one of those blond hairs out of your head and stuff them in your mouth.”
Tiffany gasped and stalked off. Without looking to see if Rob followed, Amanda marched off in the other direction. She walked until she reached a tree beyond the stands and out of the others’ line of sight. When she turned around Rob was standing in front of her.
HOSTILE MAKEOVER
A Bantam Book / November 2005
Published by Bantam Dell
A Division of Random House, Inc.
New York, New York
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved
Copyright © 2005 by Wendy Wax
Bantam Books and the rooster colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
eISBN: 0-553-90202-4
www.bantamdell.com
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