Liars' Games (Project Chameleon Book 1)
Page 7
Finally, John spoke. “An award, especially in a subject like science, is good. Don’t get me wrong. It’s going to take more than one award, though, to increase the district’s ranking and its prestige in the community. This district’s image is well below par. Manuel and all of you need to push harder on your teachers and students.” He paused, and glanced at his iPad, then said, “Look at his school’s record on sports, for example. They’re near the bottom in every activity. What does that say about Manuel’s leadership?”
Claire watched Manuel, a middle-aged man in a well-worn suit, who sat across the table from her. His smile melted, and he loosened his necktie and wiped beads of perspiration off his forehead. That poor man. She would talk to him after the meeting and let him know he had her support despite John’s unreasonableness. No doubt John wasn’t an educator and didn’t know how difficult the job was.
John Richmond was white-haired and bronze-skinned, in his sixties, Claire guessed. When he’d entered the room moments before the meeting began, she’d noticed him right away because he was at least six-foot-three, attractive, and distinguished looking. He reminded her of a former colleague, a professor she’d admired years ago, but after listening to his many condescending comments this morning, she found nothing to admire.
“I have to disagree with you on that one, John,” Steve Jensen said. Today, he was all business, dressed in a crisp white dress shirt, striped black-white-gray tie, and a black business suit. “In the two years Manuel has been at Cooper, he’s done an excellent job encouraging students to stretch their minds and participate in scholastic competitions. This isn’t the first win one of his students has achieved. And yes, the sports teams have had a rough patch, but aren’t academics our number one priority, John? Manuel’s one of our best leaders.”
Manuel’s face reddened, and then he glanced at Steve and smiled.
Steve nodded at Manuel and Claire held her breath, waiting for John’s reaction. When he didn’t respond, she breathed a sigh of relief for her fellow principal.
After another fifteen minutes of idle talk, she looked at her untouched coffee cup and debated whether to drink it. She’d already drunk two full cups this morning at the school. Hmm. She glanced at her watch. Probably need the extra caffeine to get through this meeting without falling asleep. She took a sip of the hot liquid. It went down the wrong way, sending her into an uncontrollable coughing fit.
All eyes turned her way, and she felt her face grow hot.
“Are you all right?” Liz Olson, another principal, asked.
Claire’s eyes watered and she coughed one more time, then nodded.
“Ah, our newest principal,” John said. “I almost forgot about you. How could I have forgotten someone so lovely?”
Claire squirmed in her seat like a child caught doing something mischievous.
“We haven’t heard anything from you yet,” he said. “Do you have any school successes to tell us about?”
She set down her cup and cleared her throat. “I’ve only been here a fortnight. There’s not much to tell yet.”
“A fortnight?” He looked around the room at the other faces. “Who uses that word these days? Didn’t that go out of use at the turn of the century?”
“Well, actually, fortnight is simply a shortening of the longer ‘fourteen nights’. It’s used often in many countries,” Claire said. Underneath the table she pinched herself for her mistake in using the British term for two weeks. Must be more careful.
“Okay, I guess I stand corrected,” John said, with a little wink. He leaned back in his chair and put his hands on the back of his head. “You know, it seems to me like two weeks is plenty of time for you to enchant everyone at Midland with your charm and cleverness. You’re telling us you haven’t worked your magic yet?” He smiled and waited for her to respond.
What was his game? Was he flirting, or taunting. She couldn’t tell. “I guess it’s time for me to visit Ollivander’s Wand Shop in Diagon Alley. Maybe they’ll have something that will work.”
He squinted, and said, “Huh?”
Liz laughed. “It’s from the Harry Potter books, John.”
Several people chuckled, including John.
“Ah. I remember that now,” he said. “I saw one or two of the movies with my grandkids.” He turned his attention back to Claire. “You know, we were led to believe you were somewhat of a miracle worker, that you could snap your fingers and get anything you wanted. Were we misled?”
Surprised, Claire said, “I don’t really know how to answer that.”
John shook his head, and Claire thought she heard a faint snicker from him.
“We’ll talk later, in private.” He straightened up, gave her one last look and then called on another principal.
An hour later when the meeting adjourned, she started to leave along with everyone else, until John caught up with her and took her aside, waiting for the last to leave.
John said, “I let you off easy in the meeting. I had no choice. But I want to make something clear to you. We didn’t hire you for your glowing abilities. You were forced on us. Apparently, you snapped your fingers and Senator Alan Reynolds gave you what you wanted.”
“Huh? What on earth are you talking about?”
“You’re Reynolds’s mistress.”
Her cheeks now felt like they were on fire. “I’m no one’s mistress.”
“That’s not what I was told.”
At that comment, alarm bells went off in Claire’s head. What had Brad and this senator done to get her this job? She bit her lip and squelched the expletive that came immediately to mind. “There must have been a misunderstanding. I’ve never even met Senator Reynolds.”
John shook his head.
“You can play it that way if you want, but you aren’t fooling anyone. We aren’t idiots. And this isn’t the first time I’ve been in this position, having to hand over a job to a man’s lover because she’s young and beautiful and knows how to manipulate a man into doing whatever she wants. It happens more often than most people think.”
She pressed her lips together and tried to hold in her anger, but words spilled out anyway. “How dare you. It wasn’t like that. Not at all. And besides, this job is certainly no prize.”
John leaned into her personal space. “If you don’t like it, we certainly don’t want to force you to stay. Say the word. We’ll gladly cancel your contract. Although the other board members aren’t here, I can assure you they’ll agree.”
She stared at him, wordless. She felt nonplussed, and for all her intelligence, she couldn’t think of anything to say to extricate herself. Even if she could, she couldn’t trust her voice.
“You can muddle through for a while. We all know it’s only a matter of time before you fall on your face. That’s what happens when someone takes on a job they aren’t qualified for.” He paused and smirked, then added, “Oh, and don’t forget you have to take the PLACE test #80 for Principals required by the Colorado Department of Education and then complete the Alternative Principal Preparation Program. Helen Jackson told you about that, didn’t she? Imagine your lover’s disappointment, though, if it got out that his mistress couldn’t pass the test or the program or messed up in a job he’d recommended her for. Not good for his re-election campaign.”
Claire opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut. Now she understood why the school board had put her in the principal position. They wanted her to fail. And how could she fight back when she hadn’t even submitted a resume? According to Brad, she didn’t need one for this job, like she had for her previous jobs. His superiors had taken care of everything—but without telling her what background information they’d given the school district.
She drew in a deep breath. Relax. Don’t give the chauvinistic snake the satisfaction of seeing your distress. You can do it. She wrapped the strap of her laptop bag over her shoulder, said “Nice to meet you as well”, then turned on her heels, and walked out the door without looking back.
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On her drive home all Claire could think about was placing an emergency call to Brad Meyers. He had to move her again, move her into a situation where she stood a chance of making things work. Her eyes began tearing-up, making it difficult to see. As she wiped at her eyes, she suddenly saw a car in front of her. She slammed on her brakes and barely avoided a crash. Her heart racing now and her hands shaking, she wiped her face and sat up straight. When she was calm enough to proceed, she planted her hands firmly on the steering wheel and forced herself to concentrate on her driving until she pulled up to her condo complex.
RETURNING TO CENTRAL Administration after the Round Table Meeting, Steve Jensen sat down behind his desk and began checking his phone messages. Forty voicemail messages. Good God. That always happened when he was out of the office for half the day, but the number of messages seemed to get bigger every month. He punched the message button and listened, scribbling notes on a pad of paper as he did so.
He prioritized the notes, number one being a question from the mayor, one that required research on Steve’s part. He turned his chair around so that he could retrieve the book he needed off the bookshelves behind his desk. Before he found the right book, he heard a knock on his door.
Frank stuck his head around the corner. “Hey Steve, you got a minute?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Your luncheon was today, wasn’t it? Sorry I couldn’t make it to this one. What’d I miss?”
Steve shook his head. “Not much. John Richmond was his usual obnoxious self.”
He thought about the odd remarks John had made to Claire about her not using her magic yet. Damn strange. And he was sure he saw John wink at her once, which was something he’d never seen John do before.
“Where are you, somewhere in the Alps?” Frank asked, bringing Steve back to the present. “Aren’t you going to tell me what happened this afternoon? Come on old man. I want details.”
Steve smiled and shook his head. “Funny. Look who’s calling me an old man. Takes one to know one, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah, come on.”
Steve gave a summary of the events at the meeting.
“So why do you think John dislikes Claire so much?” Frank asked.
Resting his elbows on the arms of his chair, Steve swiveled the chair and steepled his hands. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure. After the meeting, I stopped to talk to Manuel outside the conference room. John was talking to Claire inside the room. The door was open and I caught a snippet—something about Alan Reynolds and a mistress. She came out a few minutes later and looked really upset. I tried to talk to John afterwards, but he brushed me off.”
“I sure hope she doesn’t walk off the job tomorrow,” Frank said. “I really like her. What did you think of her?”
Steve hesitated, remembering her shimmering light brown hair with its gold highlights. Sometimes, when the room’s lighting was just right, her hair had a slight reddish tint. Oh, and her sparkling blue eyes were incredible. Yes, she was beautiful, sexy, intelligent, witty, but he damned sure wasn’t going to say it, not even to Frank. He hadn’t told anyone about his date with her. “I don’t know her very well yet. I like her. I’m usually a good judge of character. I hope I’m right about her. Gotta admit that John’s behavior toward her during and after the meeting bothers me a little. Of course he often doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“My lips are sealed. You know how I feel about him, too.”
Steve nodded. He knew darn well that he and Frank weren’t the only people around here who didn’t like John Richmond. Although most wouldn’t dare say it aloud, their body language spoke volumes.
“Hey, that reminds me,” Steve said. “If you find out anything about why the board hired Claire, let me know.”
CHAPTER SIX
CLAIRE FUMBLED WITH her front door lock, then entered and closed the door, wanting to cry. She couldn’t let her son and his nanny see her that way, though. She pulled off her suit jacket and hung it on the coat rack. Regaining a modicum of composure, she went into the living room.
“Did you have fun at work, Mommy?”
She nodded and pulled him into a hug. Kate then summarized what they’d done during the day and left. Setting her laptop, handbag, and mobile phone on the coffee table, Claire plopped onto her sofa, and stared off into space.
Marcus hopped around in front of his mother like a puppy dog, drawing her attention. “Are we gonna read a book? I’ve been waiting all day.”
She stood up and walked over to him, picking him up in her arms. “Sorry, little man. You’ll have to wait a bit longer, I’m afraid. I need to make an important phone call. Can you go upstairs to your room and play for a while? I’ll read with you later.”
“Okay.”
She set him down, and off he went like a windup toy, spinning and rolling and giggling—the epitome of innocence. Suddenly, she longed to be a child again, even if that meant reliving her not so easy childhood filled with long days locked in her bedroom, forced by her father to study from the time she’d get home ‘til bedtime on school days and from morning ‘til night on non-school days.
Claire’s mother had tried to intervene, tried to tell her husband that no one needed that much studying. He wouldn’t listen. He told her he envisioned his daughter going down in history as the youngest person ever to attend Oxford. Later she had indeed made it into Oxford, but wasn’t even close to being the youngest, and her father never let her forget his disappointment in her. That wasn’t the kind of childhood she wanted for their child, and her former fiancé, Callum, had agreed.
How sad that that part of her life had become the good old days.
For the past hour she’d been desperate to call Brad. Now that she had the opportunity, she couldn’t bring herself to pick up the phone. How would Brad react? He’d told her point-blank that she called him too often with worries. Would he tell her she was overreacting again?
While she worked up the nerve to call him, she opened her laptop and googled ‘Colorado Alternative Principal Preparation Program’ and read through the requirements. Oh God. It was worse that she’d imagined and she doubted she would even be accepted into the program. Sighing, she leaned forward and picked up her phone, then slumped back against the sofa back and hit the speed dial number that connected her directly to Brad.
“Brad Meyers here.”
“It’s Juliet Powell.”
“What?” Brad said in a shocked tone.
Oh bloody hell! She wasn’t supposed to use that name, not even with him. That person no longer existed. “Oh. Sorry. Claire Constantine.”
“What the hell? You know better than that.”
“I’m sorry, Brad. I’m having a bloody miserable day. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” She sighed, and her breath vibrated with emotion as she exhaled.
“What’s happened? Please tell you aren’t in some kind of danger. ”
“No. I mean I don’t think I’m in any danger,” she said. “It’s not that. It’s—it’s this job. It isn’t working. Not at all.”
“Okay. Hang on a minute. You’re gonna have be more specific. What isn’t working? Did you blow your cover again?”
“Uh, well, no, that’s not the problem.” How could she sum it up and not sound like a whiny baby? “It’s the school board. They—they think I’m having an affair with some senator. A Senator Alan Reynolds, I think. It’s insane. Until today, I’d never even heard the name. They think he helped me get hired because . . . .”
She couldn’t finish.
Brad groaned into the phone without saying a word.
“Are you going to move me?”
“Before I do anything, I want to know what happened. You’ve been in Colorado less than two weeks. We can’t keep moving you, especially on a whim.”
“It’s not a whim.”
“Okay, so give me the details.”
She relayed the scene for him, and when she finished
, he said, “Damn. They were supposed to hire you as a teacher. You were supposed to blend in, be invisible. Why didn’t you tell me they’d offered you a principal position?”
“I—I thought about calling you, but I couldn’t call in front of the HR Manager, could I?”
“You couldn’t excuse yourself and call?”
“I thought about it. Then I remembered what you told me the day you brought me to Denver. You said, ‘don’t keep calling me and asking what you should do. It’s been almost ten months. I can’t keep holding your hand. You’ve gotta stand on your own’. Don’t you remember that?”
“Now, you choose to listen to me!” He sighed. “We obviously need better communication.”
“Yes, and speaking of better communication, I need to know what background information was given to this school board.”
“Huh? You mean you didn’t know? No one discussed that with you? You’ve gotta be kidding.”
“Does this sound like I’m kidding?”
“Hold on, let me pull up your file on my computer.” Silence followed for a moment, and then he said, “Okay, you’re supposed to have taught math at two high schools, one in Indianapolis and one in Cleveland. You’ve taught for fourteen years. As for the other issue, I’m gonna have to do some checking, talk to some people. I’ll get back to you.”
Claire hung up and sat slumped over with her head cupped in her hands. Finally, she rose, went into her bedroom to change into pajamas, then flopped across her bed. An hour later he still hadn’t called back.
“I’m hungry, Mommy.”
She looked up and tried to smile. “Oh, Marcus, I’m sorry. I forgot all about dinner. I’ll start it now. What do you want?”
“Mac and cheese,” he said. “Mackie and cheesy, mackie and cheesy.” He giggled and hopped, and Claire smiled in spite of her bad mood.
“That, I can do.”