“So formal! Already drunk on that newly-minted teacher power, huh? Hey, whatever you say, Ms. Browne.” His gaze swept down my body until it landed on my left hand. “Or is it Mrs.?”
“Miss,” I said sharply. If he wanted to be an ass about it, fine. I was through playing nice. “Although I prefer Ms.”
It might’ve been safer for me to lie about being married, but I shouldn’t have to pretend to belong to a man for my disinterest to be valid. Just because I was a generally quiet and polite person didn’t mean I let people walk all over me.
“I like Ms. better too,” he said with a slight sneer. “Very professional. And what do I call you if we wind up going out for lunch?”
I wanted to ask him if he was deliberately being obtuse or if his lack of ability to read people only applied to women, but something told me that wouldn’t go over well. I could only hope that my tolerance would outlast his idiocy.
“The same. School meetings outside the building are no different,” I said, crossing my fingers that he’d take the hint.
No such luck.
“Christ on a cracker, girl! We never gooutfor lunch. It’d be seen as ‘wasting time.’”
I could almost hear the air quotes. While I knew that teachers were often taken advantage of by people who thought of education as an easy field filled by people who worked from eight until three and had all sorts of breaks throughout the year, this school wasn’t exactly hurting for money. As a new teacher who hadn’t gotten her Master’s degree yet, I was at the bottom of the pay ladder, and I’d been shocked at the salary on my contract. The school hadn’t done any name-dropping when it came to who its sponsors or its parents were, but I was starting to get curious.
“No, I was thinking just you and me, some nice sushi, maybe some wine. I know the best sushi place in town. My treat, don’t worry.”
I wasn’t a shallow person, but he had to be nearly twenty years older than me and had yet to show me anything he had to offer that would make me evenconsidergoing on a date with him. “Drinking before class would be completely irresponsible and inappropriate.”
The words were out of my mouth not more than two seconds before I realized my mistake. I opened my mouth to ensure he knew that lunch with him wasentirelyout of the question, no matter when or where or whatever else he tried to–
“This Saturday, then.”
Fuck.
I shook my head. “I’m busy Saturday.”
“Sunday, then. Or Monday. Long weekend, baby!” He laughed, then quickly cleared his throat. “I mean…MisssssBrowne.” He drew the sound out like a snake, somehow thinking that was charming.
It wasn’t.
“No,” I said flatly. If he couldn’t take a direct no for an answer, this could end up turning into a huge problem.
“Hey, just think about it!” he insisted, showing me his palms again and backing up toward the door. “Why don’t you sleep on it? I know I will.”
I didn’t even want to think about what that could possibly mean. “Mr. Harvey,” I said, “I’m not–”
“I’ll see ya tomorrow, Lumen!” he shouted over me, waving as he backed up through the doorway. “Keep up the good work! We’ll talk about lunch! Peace out!”
And he was gone.
“–Comfortable with this,” I finished as the door slammed shut. At least that meant I was alone in my classroom when I let loose a string of expletives so foul that they rarely ever left my mouth.
This wasnothow I’d wanted my first teaching job to end up.
Ten
Alec
Normally,I had Evanne one to two weekends per month, depending on how work was going, but three-day weekends like Memorial Day or Labor Day, those were mine, and as inadequate as I sometimes felt when it came to parenting an eight-year-old girl, I loved having that extra day.
A couple weeks ago, Keli had asked me to take an extra day this weekend, dropping Evanne off on Thursday evening instead of Friday night. At first, I’d thought about making an excuse, but I’d felt a flood of guilt after a few seconds. Keli had always been so good about our arrangement that I felt like a complete bastard telling her I couldn’t take a single extra day off from the company my family owned.
I’d checked with my assistant, Tuesday Boswell, and she’d assured me that MIRI – McCrae International Research Institute – could survive without me for four days. I’d almost snapped at her for being so smug, but she was an excellent assistant, and I could be a difficult bastard to work for sometimes. Fortunately, she’d known all that when my father had first hired her to be my assistant.
It wasn’t the extra time with Evanne that had me on edge right now though. That was all thanks to Keli.
