Christine lifted two fingers in greeting, waving them at the group before putting her hand on my back and pushing me forward.
“Ladies. This is Emma James. She’s a probationary employee at the academy, but we’re hoping to lure her into a full-time position soon. She graduated with a master’s degree from the University of South Carolina and has a double minor in education and psychology. Emma, this is Daliah, Elizabeth, and Pepper.”
My eyes widened, listening to Christine—I had no idea she knew so much about me—it was like she was reading straightfrom my employee file. I half expected her to list my hobbies and the last five places I’d volunteered. Perhaps she knew the most recent color of wool I’d bought from Hobby Lobby, hoping my skills had progressed enough to knit newborn hats for the local hospital.
“Oh, yes. Erwin mentioned your name when we approved Mrs. Dawlish’s retirement request. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Daliah said, finishing her glass and holding her hand for me to shake. I swallowed, smiling, as I took her hand, holding back my urge to curtsey. “John said your name was on the list of candidates for the upcoming position.”
“Yes,” I answered, sipping my wine to gather my thoughts. “I’m honored to be considered.”
“Hmm. I’m sure,” Pepper said, snapping her fingers at a nearby waiter, who hurried closer to refresh her drink. “What conditions did the headmaster require of you, Miss James?”
“Conditions?” I parroted, feigning ignorance and tilting my head to let my eyes drift between the ladies.
“Oh, yes. That man loves his little power plays. I remember when Coach Riley was on probation, he had to keep his face cleanly shaven for ninety days and maintain an active gym membership to set a good example for the students.”
The ladies nodded as my eyes widened, equal parts surprised and annoyed.
“And when the media specialist was onboarded, she was required to take part in the school’s production ofGuys and Dolls.”
“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. Luckily, no one will be subjected to my less-than-pleasant singing voice, but he made it very clear that he’d need to meet my significant other.”
“That man,” Elizabeth scoffed, passing her empty drink to a nearby server. “If he weren’t so good at his job, the board would stop this nonsense.”
“Hmm,” I mumbled, knowing there was a fine line between gossiping and saying something detrimental that could get back to the wrong person and sabotage me. “I’m glad his idiosyncrasies are not limited to just me.”
Christine giggled, her laughter sounding like crystals tinkling on a chandelier. The other ladies followed suit, and I joined in, glad to have a reason to contribute to the conversation without digging myself into a hole. I couldn’t help but feel optimistic that Christine sought me out. Perhaps all the hoops I had to jump through, combined with the shitty dates, would be worth it.
“Exactly. Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, Miss James. It’s all a game to him, and the board allows him to think he controls the king.” Delilah leaned closer, resting her hand on my arm and winking as if the entire group hadn’t taken a collective step forward to hear what she had to say. “He may be the king, but these ladies are the real chess masters, controlling the pieces how they see fit.”
My eyes widened and then drifted between the ladies. Their eyes were kind, but the smiles were predatory—as if they were waiting for the faintest trace of blood before devouring their prey.
“I suppose it’s not unreasonable that the headmaster wants to ensure his staff is well-rounded. I figured that meant he was interested in where I volunteered instead of who I dated.” I shrugged, setting my drink down and picking at a rogue cuticle. “I suppose getting the dirt on my love life is more exciting than listening to the number of sea turtle nests I helped relocate last season.” I cupped my hand around my mouth, leaning close and winking at the group. “The number is fourteen, by the way.”
They laughed along with me, and I let myself dream that instead of trying to impress the academy with witty words and guys who didn’t exist, I’d be sitting at the faculty table discussingpolicy changes while a faceless guy approached the table slowly with a Ketel One and grapefruit held between his long fingers.
Perhaps he’d ask the bartender to add a salted rim to the glass and lean forward as he placed it in front of me, brushing my hair aside and whispering that my eyes were to stay on him whenever my tongue tasted the salt.
“I know that look, Miss James,” Pepper said with a salacious grin.
Does anyone use first names around here?
“Young love,” Christine added, nudging my shoulder.
Nope. Just fantasizing about long fingers and hazy looks.
“Do share with the class why you suddenly looked lost in the sauce,” Delilah prompted, her look fixed on me.
Oh, no.
“Don’t be shy, deary. What’s your favorite thing about him?”
“Um. Well—” I started, drawing my bottom lip between my teeth and running through a list of subpar answers.
Hair?Too cliche.
Smile?Too cheesy.
Bulge?Too pornographic.
