Detention

by Stephanie Williams

  It had been eight years…eight long, eventful years.

  As a teaching principal of Fremont High, she had more control over the curriculum, and students were finally getting the classes they actually needed to get into college. But she had little control of her personal life.

  The last seven years had seen her married and divorced, and she’d lost someone who was dear to her heart. Frank Sampson’s death had traumatized her. She went out on sick leave for almost a month. She didn’t know then that his passing would hit so deeply, but he’d been more than a father figure and mentor. He was a close friend and confidant. And although his death hadn’t come as a surprise, she hadn’t had the chance to say thank you or goodbye.

  Then her best friend Tracy divorced her cheating husband. That hadn’t been much of a shock. But since then, Tracy had been in a funk and on a man-hating campaign. She couldn’t fully disagree with Tracy, either. Her own marriage hadn’t been much better, but Mia’s failed marriage had nothing to do with him; it was her. She realized it on their wedding night. She and Ralph slept together long before they married, but she thought things would improve over time. They didn’t. He just wasn’t satisfying her needs.

  She got sick and tired of telling him what she wanted. Yeah, a man can’t read a woman’s mind, but damn. She’d hinted she wanted him to be more aggressive in the bed, and the one night he acted like he was taking control, she just about fell asleep.

  The wedding night he’d said he wanted to be more romantic. Hell, she had that! She needed more. She felt ashamed and like a bit of a failure. Even though sex shouldn’t have been the end-all in their marriage, she caught herself looking elsewhere and reading books that shouldn’t have been in a married woman’s possession, in her opinion. Then came the annual teacher development conference in Austin, and the mixer on the final night, where she’d come oh-so-close to accompanying the multidisciplinary curricula expert back to his hotel room.

  After that night, the writing was on the wall. So before things got out of hand and she actually strayed, she did the right thing and filed for divorce.

  Through it all, though, she always found solace thinking about her former students every now and then, and keeping busy with her current classes. Brett stood out in particular.

  Those days that she’d had him for detention—and there were a lot of those—she’d learned a lot about him. He wasn’t a bad kid, but she’d sensed something was out of place in his life. There had been times she would see him brooding alone, yet when he was in her office for detention, he’d come alive. He’d always been willing to help her with anything that had to do with the students. She had nearly fallen out of her seat when he’d given his graduation speech. Had he meant what he’d said, or had he just said what he thought people wanted to hear?

  She wished she’d spent more time with him. Maybe there was more to him than the shallow, troublesome jock she’d thought he was. However, she wasn’t his parent or savior, and perhaps he wouldn’t have wanted her help anyway.

  When newspaper headlines announced the sudden death of Brett Wyndam Sr. six years ago, she hadn’t known what to feel. Sorrow had been her first emotion. She hadn’t known how close Brett was to his father, but losing a parent, no matter the state of the relationship, was devastating.

  She should know.

  She got up from her chair and looked out her window for any sign of him. Nothing. But that candy-apple red Porsche parked in the visitors’ section? That must be his. She returned to her desk and began sorting through some of the paperwork she kept putting off.

  Got to keep busy, got to keep busy.

  She stood up and went to the coat closet and grabbed her briefcase. She had some essays that she was going to take home and grade. This was an opportune time to get a head start on them.

  ***

  “Why, Brett Wyndam!”

  A tall, thin, African American woman came toward him, arms outstretched.

  “Mrs. Murphy, how are you?” Brett greeted her in kind, giving her a big bear hug.

  “I’ve been doing well. Oh, my Lord, how you’ve grown!” Mrs. Murphy looked him up and down as if he were her grandchild coming to visit. “And such a handsome man.”

  “Yeah, I thought I stopped growing after my first year in college, but my body had other plans.”

  They both laughed, then Mrs. Murphy’s face turned grave. “I’m so sorry about your father,” she said. “I remember reading something in the paper the other day. About a park being dedicated in his name. I remember the day he passed—”

  “Thanks.” He’d read that same article. Someone had found out he was in town, and wondered if he would be joining the ceremonies, maybe make a speech. He’d lied and told them he had other plans.

  “How’s your mother?”

  “She’s fine, thanks.” That was another topic that was off-limits. “Say, is Ms. Bradford in?”

  Mrs. Murphy looked in the direction of Sampson’s old office. “Yes. I’m sure you heard about Mr. Sampson?”

  “Yes. I was shocked. I really liked the old man.”

  Mrs. Murphy drew back with a skeptical grin.

  “No, really. I might not have shown it, but I did admire him. I’m afraid I waited too late to tell him.”

  “You’re not the only one. Ms. Bradford took it real bad, real bad. She took sick leave for a long time. Oh, shoot.” She put her hand over her mouth. “I shouldn’t be telling you all this, but I just don’t want you to say the wrong thing, you understand.”

  Ms. Bradford lost it? Hmm, that was interesting. But then death had a way of bringing out the most interesting emotions. “Yes, I do.” He took Mrs. Murphy by the elbow and kissed her cheek. “Do you think I can see her now?”

  “Sure. I’ll go let her know you’re here.”

  Brett looked over the familiar surroundings, and out of habit, took a seat. How many times had he been in these chairs awaiting his punishment? Well, not these exact ones, he quickly noticed. He looked around the old lobby and saw many changes and lots of upgrades.

  His attention was suddenly captured by the giggles of young girls. He turned and saw no less than five of them peeking around the corner. They started to do wacky things to gain his attention.

  They had to be kidding. First of all, they were jailbait, and second, he hadn’t been into teenage girls even when he’d been a teenager himself. He loved women He had always loved women.

  He looked over at them and wondered if he was getting old. The clothes they had on! He shook his head and sighed. Fashion was crazy eight years ago, but what they were wearing was borderline pornographic. Daisy Dukes and stilettos? If he had a daughter, she wouldn’t see the light of day wearing some of that garbage. How they sneaked under the radar and avoided Ms. Bradford’s eagle eyes was a mystery, but he remembered his high school years. Students always tested the administration. Brett smiled to himself. He would like to be the fly on the wall when Ms. Bradford got hold of these girls.

  “Brett,” Mrs. Murphy said, coming toward him.

  “Yes?”

  “You can go in, but she said she only has a few minutes.”

  ***

  There was a hard knock on the door, and Mia knew it was now or never. Usually she was elated when one of her own came back to visit. To see what they’d accomplished in life was her biggest payoff.

  But Brett Wyndam? Just seeing him like this disturbed her, and she knew why.

  That troublemaking jock, the practical joker, the gangly boy, had become a grown man. A man she hadn’t seen the likes of before. Even from a distance she could see what genetics blessed him with.

  He was a good-looking kid in high school. Girls threw themselves at him, but back then, she’d seen him as an awkward teenager. Only when he was on the football field had he looked like he could conquer the world. But today, he was all grown up, a blond Adonis, walking around like he owned the world. He had that swagger—no woman with a pulse could deny him.

  She didn’t like how she r
esponded. She needed to keep reminding herself that he was a former student, and there was a big age difference. Even though she was unusually young for a principal, she had twelve years on him. Twelve years.

  But there was part of her that did want to see Brett again. She wanted to see the man he’d become. Was he still arrogant and constantly getting into trouble?

  “Come in,” she said, clearing her throat.

  “Hello, Ms. Bradford! Remember me?”

  Chapter Three

  Mia tried to stand up to greet Brett, but found she couldn’t move.

  My God! Could this man be any more beautiful? Some kids just got taller. He had become perfection personified.

  Brett filled the doorway completely. His sky-blue Polo shirt—a real one, not some discount-store knockoff—clung to his body like a second skin, emphasizing every muscle. His khakis did the same to his powerful-looking thighs.

  A Polo and khakis on most men wouldn’t have brought any image other than a regular guy going to work on casual Friday, or off to play golf. On Brett, they looked delicious.

  He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. As he walked toward her desk, Mia realized she hadn’t moved since he’d walked in. She finally stood up. “Brett Wyndam. How could I forget?” She stepped sideways and extended her hand.

  “Hey, is that any way to greet a sheep returning to your flock, Ms. Bradford?” he asked mockingly. He reached for her and gently pulled her to him. He hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek. Then he released her and smiled. Deep dimples cut into a strong jaw. His skin was tanned and golden, and baby blue eyes twinkled in mischief.

  Mia almost wondered what trouble he had gotten into.

  “So, Brett,” she managed to say as she quickly returned to the safety of her desk. The expensive cologne and his natural scent launched images to her brain she knew would never leave. “What brings you back to Fremont? How are you doing? Are you in grad school?”

  “Whoa! Slow down.” He held up his hand. “Let me have a seat, and I’ll be glad to give you the laundry list.”

  “Of course, of course.” She pointed to the chair in front of her desk. “I’ve been trying to catch up here.” Mia began straightening her piles of papers, occasionally looking up, only to see Brett staring at her with an intensity that was unnerving.

  “Mrs. Murphy told me you were busy, but this will only take a few minutes. We can talk in more detail later.”

  Later? There was going to be a later? Mia didn’t think she could take one more minute with him, let alone “later.”

  Mia finally sat down, leaned back in her chair, and took off her glasses. She placed them on the desk and began pinching the bridge of her nose. When she put her glasses back on, Brett was still staring at her. He was very direct. His full mouth turned up at the corners, making his dimples even deeper. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. Sexy and annoying, because it meant only one thing—he was up to no good.

  Then she mentally slapped herself. She hadn’t even given her condolences about his father. She wondered how she should approach it. He seemed to be in a jovial mood. It had been several years since his father’s passing. She wasn’t sure he’d gotten over it; he was probably at the stage where time had done a great deal to heal the wound, but she had to say something to be respectful. “Um, Brett, I-I just want to say that I’m sorry about your father.”

  His animated expression was replaced with a look she couldn’t read.

  “Thank you.” He nodded his head. “I was sorry to hear about Fremont High’s loss.”

  Mia felt a lump in her throat and a knot in her stomach. Time didn’t always heal grief. Whoever said that it did had never met Frank Sampson. “Yes, it was a shock to the rest of the faculty.”

  Brett cocked his head. “The rest of the faculty?”

  “Yes.” Mia stood up and went to the window. She had to get over this. He’s gone he’s gone. “I…uh, knew about his illness years before he passed.”

  “What?”

  She heard the squishy sound of the leather chair and turned to see Brett coming toward her. She tried to move away, but he took her by the elbow.

  “Ms. Bradford, what do you mean you knew years before? What illness?”

  She looked into his eyes and saw real concern, real emotion, his face actually etched with grief. Why hadn’t she seen that when she’d mentioned his father?

  “Anyway, he came to my office and….” Mia trembled. To her surprise, she felt Brett wrap reassuring arms around her. He felt so good. She tried to relax, to accept the comfort and safety he was offering. “I can’t begin to describe how I felt when he told me. Frank…Mr. Sampson…was diagnosed two years prior to his death with incurable prostate cancer. Even then, the doctors gave him only six months. They didn’t catch it in time. He had no clue before that.” Mia started wringing her hands.

  “I know. Mrs. Murphy told me—” He stopped mid-sentence when she quickly turned in his arms. “She felt I should know before I came in here and said something stupid, but between you and me, I miss him, too.”

  Her mouth nearly fell open. He was serious!

  “You’re the second one to give me that look of skepticism. Really, I liked the old man. I didn’t show it then, and for that I have deep regret.”

  “I don’t think I showed him enough,” Mia said, hanging her head and returning to her chair.

  “Ms. Bradford, from what you’re telling me, and from the rapport between you two, I think you must have. He knew.”

  Mia took a tissue and wiped her eyes. “Thanks, Brett. I needed to hear that from someone else.”

  “Hey, I mean it.” He sat down and crossed his legs. He leaned back and smiled at her again.

  Is it possible the infamous Brett Wyndam has grown up?

  “Well, Brett.” She looked at her watch and pushed some papers aside. “I guess we could have lunch to catch up on old times. Or I could order—”

  “Like I told you, there’s no hurry.” Brett made himself more comfortable. “In answer to your previous questions, what brings me into town? I need letters of recommendation for a graduate internship. How am I doing? Fantastic. What was my major in college? Microbiology. Now, I’m working on my Master’s.”

  “I was never your teacher, but I can certainly give you a character reference. I’ll be glad to write one.”

  “Really?”

  “Brett, I never had a problem with your brain. It was all the shenanigans, but it looks like you turned out all right.” She smiled at him.

  He smiled back, turning up the wattage that sent goosebumps to places she didn’t think could get them. She immediately crossed her legs. She was not getting aroused by a former student.

  He’s twenty-five. Only twenty-five. She had to keep that in mind before she got carried away. She just celebrated her thirty-seventh birthday, and lusting after this boy…young man…should have been the furthest thing from her mind. Besides, he was a former student. She’d be run out of town.

  But there was something else about him that made her jittery. She’s seen handsome men before; however, when Brett walked into the room, he commanded attention. He strolled in as if he could take control of any situation under any circumstances.

  It wasn’t arrogance. This was something natural in him, organic, and it sparked something in her.

  “I really appreciate that, Ms. Bradford,” he said, getting up. He walked to the side of her desk and sat on the edge. His arms folded, eyes piercing, he stared at her with an interest she couldn’t put a handle on.

  “What kind of internship will you be doing?” Mia squirmed in her chair to get more comfortable, more at ease. She tried to give the appearance that he wasn’t affecting her. Just then her phone rang. She raised her finger. “Just a minute. Ms. Mia Bradford speaking.”

  “Hey, baby.”

  It was her boyfriend, Tim. “Hey, honey! How’s it going?” She had to fake her enthusiasm. She’d been enjoying the way Brett made her feel. She hadn’t fel
t that way in years.

  “Pretty good. We got the Holland account.”

  “Great!”

  “Want to celebrate?”

  “Of course. You pick the place.”

  “Hmm. Let me think.”

  Mia took off her glasses and sat back in her chair again. In all fairness, Tim was a good man with a proper upbringing, thanks to his mother. He was successful, funny, and treated her with the utmost respect.

  He was also boring as hell.

  She rolled her eyes, thinking of the weeks she’d patiently pretended to listen as he’d blathered on about his latest conquest—the Holland account.

  “How about The Blue Oyster?” Tim finally said.

  And he was so predictable, thought Mia. “All right. See you tonight.”

  Mia hung up the phone, adjusted her frames, and turned her attention back to Brett. Tim’s passive nature just made Brett was more exciting, more delicious.

  She mentally pulled herself back to reality. This was someone who was off-limits.

  “Now, where were we?”

  ***

  Who the hell was that? Brett fumed silently, even though he knew he shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course she had a man.

  When he first walked into her office, he had been immediately transported back in time to the troublesome jock he had been, coming to serve his penance.

  She was breathtaking then, and she was breathtaking still. She was the epitome of a schoolboy’s wet dream. Curvy, voluptuous, and just plain sexy. In spite of trying to hide that body under those Little-House-on-the-Prairie clothes, her figure could not be contained. Legs that went on forever, skin that looked like smooth chocolate. Light brown eyes with long lashes that seemed endless. And even though she wore those hideous horn-rimmed glasses, it didn’t take away from those expressive eyes.

  Her lips were the perfect shape and made for kissing. She never wore lipstick. In fact, her makeup was never overdone. She played her looks down, but her natural beauty always shone through.