That realization hit me as I stared at the almost empty glass, filling me with an overwhelming sense of wrongness, almost like I was purposely doing something sinister to ruin a relationship with Miller before it had begun.
The wrongness stayed as I rubbed my chest, feeling my heart beat under my palm. The beat was reassuring. As long as I could feel the steady thump of the organ, it reminded me there was a man out there who kissed me like I was the most precious and important thing in his life.
And here I was, waiting for someone who wasn’t him.
It was sickening—I was sickening.
Desperation oozed out of my pores as I stared at the now-empty flute, wishing it was something stronger.
“I hope this isn’t becoming a habit, Miss James,” a tittering voice said. I shook my head, loose curls bouncing around my face as I brought my empty glass to my lips before realizing there wasn’t more than a drop or two left and assessed Mr. Thomas. My eyes narrowed, and my lips pursed, but those remained the only outward signs of my aggravation.
Don’t take his bait. Remember your manners. Or the p words, perhaps.
Patience.
Perseverance.
Punishment?
I grinned, letting one side of my mouth rise as I lowered the glass and placed a hand on my hip.
“We indulge John with his little idiosyncrasies, you know? But what good is that if the headmaster’s subjects don’t follow through with his requests?”
Dean Thomas tittered again, crunching the ice in his drink, as I leaned in closer before raising my brows. His cologne was cloying, smelling of bergamot and leather. On another, it might have been mildly appealing, but the scent burned the insideof my nose, and I held my breath before stepping back and responding. “Subjects?”
“Oh. Come, now.”
Pretentious idiot.
“Don’t mistake my word choice as a lack of respect, dear. You’ve been the talk of the board. ‘Making waves’ is the term Jacob Mulciber used at the last meeting.”
“Waves?”
I was being vague—practically opaque—but after the long overdue confrontation with my father, a small part of my confidence was restored, and it felt good to see someone else squirm. A petty part, sure, but that was just semantics, and watching a vein in Dean’s forehead throb as he struggled to tip the balance of power back toward him was satisfying.
“Yes, young lady, waves. I know how important this job is. Wouldn’t want to disappoint us, would you?”
Us? Did he have a mouse in his pocket?
I swirled the remaining drops of liquid in my glass and watched the legs drip down toward the bottom. My eyes stayed firmly on the champagne, breathing in the sweet aroma as it rose from the center.
“The last thing I want to do is disappoint the board, Mr. Thomas.”
I didn’t sneer, but my words were crisp and biting, letting the annoyance of thisconditionbleed through.
“I’m sure Headmaster Hopkirk always has the school’s best intentions in mind,” I said with a smile. “Although, I would hate to think who I have on my arm is more important than what I can bring to this fine institution. I’m sure you agree.”
Mr. Thomas’ nostrils flared, looking like something particularly offensive had wafted under his nose, and that small, petty part of me peeked around my shoulder, wiggling her butt in triumph.
“Of course, I agree, Miss James. There’s the headmaster now. Why don’t I escort you over to say hi?” He grasped my upper arm between his thick fingers, digging them in and trying to steer me toward the left. I allowed him to move my arm, but not my body. My feet stayed firmly planted on the smooth tile as I pinched my brows, refusing to let himescortme anywhere.
“No. I don’t think I will. My drink is empty, and I need to powder my nose. Please excuse me, Mr. Thomas. I’m sure we’ll speak again soon.”
I jerked my arm away from him, turning quickly and setting my glass on an empty high-top table before hustling to the bathroom and closing the door behind me. I thumbed the lock and leaned against the door, dropping my head to my chest and groaning. My arm stung where that asshole grabbed me, and I ran my fingers over the skin, hissing when I realized how much it had hurt.
This wasn’t worth it.
I whimpered, biting the inside of my cheek hard enough for the coppery taste of blood to fill my mouth. Clenching my fists by my side, I pushed off the door and stalked to the sink, glancing at my reflection in the mirror.
