See? Flame, fury.
But it’s confusing too, because I’ve coached dozens of wayward, bad-boy celebrities, and never have I experienced this level of consternation, which leads me to confusion.
Also, I’d like to make it public record that he has a man bun. I wear a bun. “There is only enough room in this manor for one bun, and it’s mine,” I hiss.
I slap my hand over my mouth as Pippa rounds the corner. Her brow ripples before she plasters on a friendly smile.
“Everything okay?” Before I can come up with an answer, she all but begs me to trade clients. Although Pippa is competent, I wouldn’t pawn off Connor “the Wolf” on her. I’m not cruel.
“Okay, I understand.” She sounds a little plastic, but it’s her first day with what’s surely an unruly and pompous football player, so there is bound to be an adjustment period for all of us.
“Glad to hear it. If you excuse me, I have—” I point vaguely toward the stairs. I’m so flustered, I don’t know what I have to do right now, other than my job.
Focus, Cateline.
I pound down the steps like a peevish teenager. I’m certain that, like Gaston, Connor sees me as little more than a good time, someone toconquer,which means he’s little more than a superficial jerk.
No matter whether the soft resonance of his Appalachian accent is charming or that his eyes are captivating—objectively speaking, of course. Those aren’t details from the interview that will help me better frame the training for the next thirty days.
And yet, I paid attention to them.
Letting out a little groan of frustration, I adjust my bun and march through the foyer.
If I were looking for a guy, which definitely is not the case, I’d want someone with depth, substance, and who takes me seriously.
But seriously, I’m not looking.
A pointy little thought pokes me in the ribs, reminding me that although I’m not looking, I did look...at Connor and his muscles.
I feel like growling, but that only reminds me of him.
As I pass Arthur in the hall on the way to my office, he gives a cordial little bow. “Thank you again for the time off, Miss Berghier.” He lifts his chin toward the administrative offices. “Good luck.”
That gesture and comment could only mean one thing. Regina has more bad news.
Arthur somehow knows everything that goes on at Blancbourg ahead of everyone else. It’s as though he has a sixth sense or has been around long enough—since the former king and queen of Concordia attended as students—to have seen every manner of triumph and calamity befall this place.
Although I headed up the opening of the school’s doors to the world, in recent years, our numbers and revenue have gradually declined, no matter how much money the Board of Regents approves for advertising. The funds evaporate more quickly than they offer a return.
And most recently, they seemed to have fallen precipitously off a cliff. One that I feel like I’m looking over.It’s a long way down, my thoughts echo.
Bracing myself before knocking on Regina’s office door, I draw a deep breath. It’s an old habit from my days as a ballerina. At the curtain call, on an inhale, I’d leave everything that was going on in my personal life behind, so I could be fully present to whatever would come on the other side.
And because dancing is quite the workout and requires strong lungs—though I suppose a guy like Connor would disagree and say it’s for sissies or something—I take a second breath.
Given Arthur’s comment, I’ll probably need all the help I can get.
Regina doesn’t answer. Somewhat relieved, I pad down the hall to my office. When I open the door, ready to flip on the light,I hear shuffling. I press the switch to find Regina in a squatting position, as if she were sitting down or getting up from the chair at my desk.
We both remain quiet in alarmed or polite shock.
There is no reason to lock the doors since Concordia is so safe, but the faint tint to Regina’s cheeks suggests she’s been caught.
But at what?
I don’t have anything to hide. Maybe she’s curious about the boisterous football players. There is no escaping the fact that they’re all good-looking, though Regina is at least twenty years my senior and married.
By most accounts, the position of headmistress should have gone to her, but the Board selected me from the pool of candidates.
