Nope. I was just looking at the empty spot on your desk where a picture of you and your wife used to be before you divorced.
“But, you understand, of course, that the parents have certain expectations of the staff.”
Wasn’t there a scandal last year involving the captain of the squash team and prescription drugs?
“And with those expectations, we, the staff, have obligations to fulfill.” He clasped his hands in front of him and laid them on the desk, smirking like the villain in a Dr. Seuss story.
“Yes, sir. I understand the importance of having a well-rounded staff.”
“Excellent. I’m glad we understand each other. I look forward to receiving your official application and references once the position has been posted.”
He stood, motioning to the door, and I set the tea down and grabbed my apple, following his lead.
“I also look forward to meeting your beau at the Fall Formal.”
My what?
I froze, my mouth open to say goodbye, and waited. Perhaps I needed to add another multivitamin to my morning routine because my brain seriously lacked the ability to keep up with this convoluted conversation.
“My beau?”
“Yes. Apologies, Miss James. I thought we just discussed the importance of a well-rounded character.”
Ah. No guy. No job. That’s crystal clear, Mr. Headmaster, sir.
“We did. Of course. My apologies. I’m sure he’ll also be thrilled to meet you, sir.” I bobbed my head, looking like a velociraptor, and swallowed, the inside of my mouth turning to cotton. I wasnotin a committed relationship. I was not inanyrelationship other than the no-strings fun I had with Miller—and thinking of him attending formal events with me was laughable.
Perhaps at some point over the last decade, I turned left instead of veering right, causing drastic changes in my life that led me to this point—unattached and alone. But I was Emma James, for fuck’s sake, destined for great things after being my high school’s valedictorian and ready to set the world ablaze with my intelligence and fiery good looks.
I was perfectly capable of living my life without relying on anyone. There was no dramatic desire pulsing through me to meet someone because, truly, I was happy with my life. I appreciated my job—most days—I saw my friends once or twice a week, and spent my evenings immersed in several hobbies that kept my calendar filled.
Every once in a while, perhaps a little more lately since the big three-zero was just over the horizon, I’d feel a flutter ofothernessthat resembled, maybe, an interest in finding someone to spend the rest of my life with. Plus, there were always thephysicalaspects of a committed relationship. One-night stands were never something I partook in, especially with the awkward conversation that was sure to happen afterward.
The entire issue was that the men I met either fell into the overbearing types who couldn’t carry on a conversation or ones who wanted to skip straight to sex. It couldn’t be too much to ask for someone firmly in the middle.
I didn’t need a relationship to prove my worth to anyone—but I did need this job. A job that was going to make me jump through hoop after hoop until I showed I was the right fit. So here I was,sansrelationship and nothing more than a growling stomach and flats that pinched my toes.
“Fantastic. Then I’ll let you get back to your duties. Please give my regards to your father. We enjoyed a rousing game of squash last week.” He dismissed me with a nod, and I swallowed the urge to curtsey before I left his office. I took a bite of the apple and powerwalked back to the library with nothing but a sinking dread in my stomach and the sound of my shoes on the polished tile.
The tales of the headmaster’s oddrequestswere nothing new since they mostly surrounded trivial things like the menus served during team meetings and the proper height of high-heel shoes so the recently replaced tile floor wouldn’t scuff. Sure, Iremembered Mr. Donovan complaining that Hopkirk required him to send the same attachmentseparatelyto each member of the foreign language department, but nothing as intrusive as questioning a person’srelationship status.
Nausea replaced the dread as I stopped in the middle of the hallway, pressing one hand to my forehead and the other to my stomach. It wastoo muchof a coincidence,too convenientthat I was given such an unusual request as opposed to a simple one like replacing all the disposable coffee mugs with teacups or ensuring the landscapers only planted white azaleas around the campus.
There was only one person who could burrow his way into my life, hoping I’d be too naive or grateful to notice the intrusion. I’d play his little game—and I’d win. The vindictive light would leave his eyes when he realized his youngest daughter not only snagged a full-time position but did it with a smile on her face and a boyfriend on her arm.
Game on, Dad.
Chapter 3
The hot watercascaded across my back, loosening my muscles and turning my legs to jelly. I braced one hand on the wall and groaned, rubbing the water from my eyes, blissfully in that euphoric state that only happened post-orgasm. My muscles bunched and released as I stretched before grabbing the four-in-one shampoo—that there was absolutely nothing wrongwith—happy to relive last night and this morning while skirting my responsibilities.
The business I ran with my two brothers, TriVolt Electric, was a well-run machine with Maverick at the helm and Brooke, his dutiful second mate and office manager, keeping the rest of us in line as we worked toward opening the showroom. Even though partially finished light fixtures and chandeliers covered every available surface of the office, it would all be worth it once we finished the space and had a proper area to showcase our designs.
Magnum was in Summerville picking up some special marble he didn’t trust shipping, and my crews were finishing up two jobs I was due to inspect this afternoon. But now, Friday morning, after waking up between the legs of a beautiful girl, I couldn’t help but grin shamelessly at how awesome my life was.
My phone blinked as I toweled off, hoping Emma had changed her mind about calling in—not that she would. Her work ethic was next level, and she’d pointed out more than once how Ishouldtake a page out of her book.
No, thank you.My life had theproperbalance of work and play, unlike hers, where the majority of her waking hours revolved around pleasing whatever department head needed assistance.
