The Teacher's Billionaire

know.”
    Lauren patted her on the arm. “I don’t think you could’ve kept it a secret forever.”
    “It was a secret my entire life. I think it could have stayed that way for a few more decades.”
    “That was before anyone else knew, including you,” Lauren began in the same voice she used when she tried to make a student see reason. “Too many people knew to keep it a secret forever. Eventually it would’ve come out.”
    Callie knew she was right. “It still sucks.” Standing she went to get some iced coffee. “Do you know there have been at least four reporters and I don’t know how many photographers parked across the street all week? They follow me. I can’t even take Lucky for a walk without someone bothering me. I actually asked Neil to do it for me last night so I wouldn’t have to deal with them.” Callie slammed her glass down on the counter causing some of the coffee to slosh over the sides. “And I’ve lost count of how many reporters have called or just showed up looking for a statement from me.”
    Lauren remained silent just letting Callie unload. Something she hadn’t done in awhile. “To top it off Mrs. Brooks called this morning and let me go,” she said referring to her boss at the summer camp.
    “I’m sorry. I know how much you liked it there.” Lauren accepted the iced coffee Callie handed her.
    Callie shrugged. “I don’t really blame her, but it still makes me mad.” It was true; she didn’t really blame her former boss. Her presence at the camp was disruptive for the children. Still she resented the situation. She would miss working with the children. This was her fourth summer there.
    “I think I’ll just take the summer off. Maybe by September I will no longer be newsworthy. My fifteen minutes will be up.” She hoped that would be the case. She couldn’t risk losing her full time teaching job too.
    Lauren didn’t reply, and Callie didn’t know if that was a good sign or not. Instead Lauren reached for the discarded magazine, which was still open to the pictures of Callie and Dylan. “Have you spoken to him?”
    Forcing herself not to look at the pictures, Callie took a long sip of coffee. “No and he hasn’t called again.”
    “Maybe you should call him. Hear what he has to say,” Lauren said gently.
    Callie opened her mouth to reply but Lauren cut her off. “I know what you’re going to say. But it
is
possible that it wasn’t a lie. That he does care about you.”
    And pigs can fly.
“You didn’t hear him.” Callie didn’t want to have this conversation with Lauren again. She thought about Dylan enough without having to talk about him too.
    “No, but these pictures tell another story. He could really care about you. Maybe even love you.”
    “It’s called acting, Lauren. People do it all the time.”
    Lauren held up her hands in surrender. “If you say so.”
    Her friend’s words resonated in Callie’s head long after Lauren left. How she wanted them to be true. The time she’d spent with Dylan had been magical. Never had she been with someone and it felt so right.
    Without intending to she’d fallen in love with him. Even now after his betrayal he was lodged in her heart. Yet wanting something to be true didn’t make it so.
Don’t you know that by now?
    She wanted to go for a walk. Sometimes that helped clear her head. Pulling back the curtain she saw that three cars were parked outside waiting for her to leave. Already that morning she’d dealt with several reporters and photographers when she’d tried to take Lucky for his walk. In the end Neil sent her back in the apartment and did it for her.
    I just don’t have the energy to deal with them again.
She let the curtain fall back into place. Instead she settled onto the couch to watch the Red Sox game and consider her options.
    Maybe I should go to Newport.
No one will bother me there. Security at Warren’s mansion won’t let anyone through.
She wouldn’t stay long. Just long enough to recharge. With any luck some other big news story would break in the mean time. Then everyone would forget about her and life would go back to normal.
    The plan sounded perfect assuming Dylan wasn’t there. He’d told her once that he visited Cliff House occasionally. What constituted occasionally to him? Did that mean once a month or once every few months?
    She couldn’t handle running into him. Not now anyway. Sure it was bound to happen someday. After all his mother and Warren were