Detention

by Stephanie Williams

  “I see.”

  Even though he told his story with such ease and dark humor, Mia saw the pain in his eyes and body language, and she heard it in his voice.

  “I’m sorry, Brett. I didn’t know. Did you…get counseling?” she asked cautiously.

  “No, I didn’t need it.”

  “And now?”

  “I still don’t need it.”

  “But, Brett—”

  “Did you seek counseling after Frank’s death?”

  Mia’s blood went from hot to cold. How dare he? “How could you say something like that?” Just the thought of Frank brought her close to tears, and all she could think about was leaving. She reached for her purse on the counter. “Take me home. I’m not hungry.”

  Brett grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to him. “I spilled my guts. Why can’t you tell me why Frank’s death hit you so hard?”

  “I can’t.” She began crying, all the while trying to escape his grasp.

  “Mia, please. I’ve told you something that I’ve never shared with anyone. The least you could do is talk to me. Or do you want to continue holding on to that pain like some badge?”

  “You’re one to talk! At least I loved Frank!” she yelled, then broke from his hold and ran to the living room. “Call me a cab.”

  “I admit, I despised my father for everything he represented, and I make no apologies for that.” He took Mia by the shoulders and turned her around. “Tell me, Mia. Tell me everything.”

  She sat on the couch and slumped over. She didn’t want to relive this. “Please, Brett, I just want to go home.” Her voice was whiny and weak. She hated feeling this way.

  “Mia, look at yourself. This is tearing you apart. This is not the I-got-it-all-together Ms. Bradford I know. This is some scared little girl.”

  “I feel like a scared little girl sometimes.”

  “Talk to me.”

  Mia took a deep breath and reached for the handkerchief Brett offered her.

  “When I graduated from grad school, I was a little younger than you, just twenty-three. I was the youngest in my class, and the first in my family to finish college. Two months after graduation, my father was killed in a warehouse accident. The insurance covered everything. Everything, except the hole in my heart. Brett, he was my biggest fan. He was like Superman to me. He could do no wrong. He always said the right things when I had a bad day. Made me laugh when I was feeling my worst.

  “He worked himself to death, literally. You see, he was so tired from working a double shift the night before that…that….” Brett took her trembling hands and held them tight. “He slipped off a forklift and fell on the pavement and broke his neck. He was killed instantly!”

  Brett hugged Mia and held her tight. Mia had never let go like this in front of anyone. Anyone except….

  “After the funeral, I left St. Louis. That’s where I’m originally from. My mother left us when I was still a child. Dad raised me, and after he was gone, there was nothing to keep me there. I came here and got a teaching job. At first they only offered me an assistant position, even after I passed all the required tests. I mean, I scored in the top tenth percentile! I didn’t want that, and daddy told me never to settle.”

  Mia got up and paced a bit, wringing the handkerchief.

  “There was one person who was willing to go to bat for me.”

  “Frank.”

  Mia turned and nodded.

  “I was told so many bullshit excuses for why I didn’t get the job: I was too young; I hadn’t done my time; this, that, and the other. Frank called it as he saw it. I was a young black woman, trying to go ahead of all these older white teachers and be top dog at a private school. And this was coming from a white man.

  “So I applied again for a teaching position. I finally got it because one of the board members was sick, and they actually had an African American on the board who argued my case. After a year, Frank came to the school as the new principal. We hit it off again. He was fun to talk to, had a wicked sense of humor.” Mia looked over at Brett and saw skepticism all over it. “I know what you’re thinking, but you didn’t know the real Frank Sampson. He was like a second father to me. I wanted to be vice-principal after he arrived. The school board wouldn’t have it, and the school surely wasn’t going to have it. With all my credentials, my age got in the way. I mean, I did everything by the book. Got recognition. Dotted my i’s and crossed my t’s.

  “I had a lawsuit pending, but Frank didn’t want me to waste my time—yet. He had another idea.”

  Mia rejoined Brett on the couch. “Frank had paid his dues and knew the system like the back of his hand. He knew how to play politics and knew who to go to for favors. He knew how to ‘fix’ things. So when my first application was rejected, we waited a while until they forgot about the ‘uppity young girl’, and I applied again. He changed two things: my age and tenure. We both knew it was a bit unethical, but we’d both seen worse. We knew they couldn’t reject me then.”

  “And if they did, you would have had a racial discrimination case, which meant more publicity and more money out of their pockets and into yours. That sly old fox,” Brett said, rubbing his chin.

  “Exactly!” Mia was getting excited just thinking about the way Frank pulled the wool over the board members’ eyes. “So I got in, and we both made some changes.”

  “But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” Brett asked knowingly.

  Mia sighed and looked at her hand and the now wrinkled, damp handkerchief.

  “Yes.”

  “Go on.”

  “I could go to Frank about anything. It was like having my father all over again. It was during one of our many long conversations that I found out he had lost a daughter. He had no other children. I said something to the effect that I always saw him as a father figure, and he said….” Mia began to shake. “He said, ‘You can call me Daddy whenever you need a shoulder to cry on.’ And I did!” She began crying uncontrollably again. Brett took her in his arms and rocked her slowly, rubbing her back.

  “It’s going to be okay, Mia.”

  “When he told me he had been diagnosed with cancer, and he only had a few months, I was devastated. Then a year passed, then two, then three. I thought he had it beat, but then his health deteriorated fast, and he was gone. I lost two daddies, Brett!”

  “No. No, Mia, you didn’t lose them. You of all people should know that. They’re still with you and always will be, but you have to let go.”

  She pushed him away and looked at him. “Let go? How and why should I?”

  “I mean let go of this torture that you’re putting yourself through and live your life. When was the last time you went on vacation?”

  “I don’t understand? What does that have to with anything?”

  “When was the last time you went on vacation, just got away from it all?”

  Mia sat and thought a moment, but she really didn’t have to think that hard. “I went on vacation four months before Frank’s death. When I came back, he was gravely ill. He didn’t even call me to tell me, he knew where I was—”

  “Shh.” Brett put his fingers to her lips. “He wanted you to enjoy yourself. If he told you, you would have been on the first plane back to worry about him. He knew he was a lost cause. I know that sounds harsh, but, Mia, you couldn’t do anything for him.” Brett paused. He brushed the hair off her forehead. “I take that back. You had already done something for him. You gave him another daughter.”

  Mia broke down again and wept on Brett’s lap. She felt as though all the negative energy in the world was draining from her soul. All the pain and guilt from so many years was finally purging itself from her body. She had never cried like that, not since the day Frank died, and even then she had cried alone.

  ***

  Mia Bradford was a complex woman. Everything he thought he knew about her flew in the face of his previous assumptions. Well, you know what they say about assuming. He looked down at the beauty sle
eping on his lap. She’d cried for a good twenty minutes and then fallen into a blissful slumber. It was as though both her father and Frank came to her and told her that everything was going to be okay. That explained a lot about Mia’s need for control. She probably felt she’d lost control with both the men in her life dying. Maybe we have the same issues after all.

  “Sir?”

  Brett jerked his head around. He forgot he’d called Hunter.

  “Is she…?” Hunter pointed to Mia curled up in his lap, still asleep.

  “She’s fine, just tired. Pull the car around, will you?”

  “Yes, sir. Should I carry her, sir?”

  If any other man had asked that same question, Brett would have decked him. But he and Hunter shared a special bond, and not just that of employer and employee.

  Brett smiled and looked down at Mia. He swept her hair from her cheeks and gazed at the little girl who’d been temporarily lost. He was certain she’d found her way. “I’ll carry her,” he said, carefully getting up and taking her in his arms.

  Once in the car, Brett made sure Mia was lying down comfortably before he told Hunter to leave.

  They were just blocks from Mia’s home when she woke up.

  “Brett?” Groggy, she looked over her surroundings, trying to focus.

  “We’re in the car, babe.”

  “Oh.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “Better, believe it or not.” She stretched, then covered her mouth to yawn.

  “I believe it.”

  “Brett?” She put her hand on his lap.

  “Hmm?” He stroked the back off it, enjoying the feel as always.

  “Thank you.”

  He kissed her tear-streaked face. “You don’t have to thank me.”

  The car came to a stop, and Mia got herself together, then froze after looking out the window.

  “Oh, my God!” Mia dropped her purse on Brett’s foot.

  Brett stifled a yell. Damn, what was in there? “What is it?” Brett looked out the window and rubbed his toe, trying to follow her gaze. He saw was a pink Cadillac parked in the driveway. Someone in it was looking for something.

  “That isn’t your car, is it?” Brett asked, getting ready to get out and confront the intruder.

  “No, it’s Tracy.”

  “Tracy? Tracy.” Brett began thinking. “Tracy Caldwell? I remember her, your lunch buddy on Thursdays.”

  “Yes, and it’s back to Wilson.”

  “Huh?”

  “She’s divorced. Her husband couldn’t keep his hands to himself.”

  “When will we men learn when we have a good thing? I remember her. She was a nice-looking woman.”

  “Well, thanks.” Mia frowned.

  “Why, Mia, is that jealousy I hear in your voice?” Brett asked playfully.

  The door opened, and Hunter held out his hand.

  “What am I going to do?” Mia asked, looking like a frightened horse.

  “What do you mean? Get out of the car and go say hi to your friend.” He started to get up.

  Mia pushed him down to the seat. “You don’t have to walk me to the door.”

  Brett sat back and stared at Mia. “Did you not learn anything from our experiences last night?”

  “What?”

  “Why do you care if someone sees us together?”

  “I was thinking of you.”

  “Please, I couldn’t care less, and no one knows what we do behind closed doors. But that’s not it, is it? The fact that the uptight and proper Ms. Mia Bradford is seen coming home in the morning with a younger man and a former student is what’s worrying you, isn’t it?”

  Mia threw herself against the seat and let out a long breath. “Yes, Brett, it is.”

  “I’m a grown man, and you’re a grown woman.”

  “Think of my position. Frank is not here to protect me anymore.”

  “But I am.”

  Mia looked at him and shook her head. “I wouldn’t want you to.”

  “It’s the least I can do, don’t you think?” He stroked her face with the back of his hand.

  ***

  Mia just sat there. She needed to stop acting like a fearful little girl. She needed to confront her own demons and deal with her own life. She didn’t need to justify anything. So what if she came home with Brett Wyndam? Besides, no one she worked with lived near her, and no one had anything against her, on the off chance they happened to see her.

  Still, she was cautious. She took in a deep breath, grabbed her purse off the floor, and stepped out of the limo. Brett was right behind her. After she straightened her blouse and dusted off her pants, she proceeded to her house. Tracy got out of her car.

  “Hey, Mia! I’ve been call—” Tracy stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Well, hello there.”

  Mia wanted to die.

  Chapter Twelve

  I knew it! I knew it! is what Tracy was more than likely screaming with delight inside her own head. Mia wanted to run straight back into the car.

  Tracy was sure to ask if there was more to Brett Wyndam’s visit than just catching up on old times.

  “I’ve been calling you since eight last night. I didn’t panic then, I just figured you were still grading papers and didn’t want to be disturbed, but when I called you this morning, and you didn’t answer, I got worried. I was about to put out an APB.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t,” Mia said, avoiding eye contact. She kept walking straight ahead, trying to get to her house.

  “I was still worried when I got here. I saw your car in the driveway,” Tracy continued, as she followed her. “And then this Escalade pulls up.”

  Mia fumbled in her purse for her keys.

  “But, on to a more, ahem…pleasurable note. I was shocked when, lo and behold, I see you step out with Brett Wyndam close behind.”

  “Where are my keys?” Mia groaned, trying to ignore her. She had her head bent way down in her purse, hoping Tracy would get the hint. She wanted to derail this conversation somehow.

  “So where were you?” Tracy asked. She’s smiling so hard, it’s a wonder her jaw doesn’t lock.

  “I was out last night.” Mia said, rushing past Tracy to the door.

  Brett stepped between them and stuck out his hand. He smiled the winning smile he was famous for.

  “Hello, Tracy. Remember me?” Brett’s appearance allowed Mia to get into the house and away from the third degree.

  “Who could forget you, Brett?” Tracy asked, taking his hand.

  “I’m not sure how to take that.” Brett laughed. He joined Mia as she walked into the living room.

  “Sir, should I leave and return later?” Hunter asked.

  Mia noticed how Tracy spun around to the cultured voice to her right and looked into the eyes of not a chauffeur, but a Greek god come to life. Mia had to admit, Hunter was a looker. And if anyone could snag Tracy’s attention, it was Brett’s friend and sexy driver.

  Inky black hair, olive skin, dark mysterious eyes, and a gorgeous, kissable mouth. Mia didn’t remember chauffeurs looking like that. And the way Tracy was staring at him, she wouldn’t forget.

  “Keep the motor running. I’ll only be a minute,” Brett said.

  Tracy did a second take on Hunter. He nodded to her and smiled, showing straight, white teeth and a deep set of dimples. Turning on his heel, he marched off to the limo.

  Tracy shook her head, then walked into the house.

  Mia quickly headed for the den. Brett grabbed her arm to stop her.

  “Whoa there, baby. Where’s the fire?” He brought her close to him, his mesmerizing blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

  “The fire is out there.” She pointed to the foyer, knowing Tracy wasn’t too far behind.

  “Afraid of what she might be thinking?”

  “I already know.”

  “You’re a grown woman, Mia.”

  “You don’t know Tracy. The FBI should have such investigators.”

  “
Tell her everything, except for the obvious, of course. So what, you had sex with a former student from your school. And, might I add, that student is a grown man.”

  “Brett, that kind of thing is still—” She stopped when she saw Tracy enter the room.

  “So, you two doing anything today?” Tracy asked, leaning against the entertainment center. She was grinning so hard again, Mia though she had an extra row of teeth.

  “Nah,” Brett said. “I leave her to you. I’m sure you ladies have some things you want to do today. Mia.” He turned back to her and took her face in his hands. He leaned into her and kissed her with a passion that burned both her flesh and her soul. It was a long, soulful kiss that went straight to her toes and back to her brain, nearly frying it. “Until tonight,” Brett said, his voice low and husky but loud enough for Tracy to hear.

  This was confirmed by the look Tracy gave Mia as Brett left the room.

  Mia stood in the middle of her own living room, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “Girl,” Tracy started, drawing the word out. “You slept with Brett Wyndam!”

  Thud! Didn’t have to wait long.

  “Tracy, please, keep your voice down.” Mia went into the kitchen. She was going to need a strong cup of coffee.

  Tracy followed and stood by the sink. “So? Details.”

  Mia turned to her, mouth hanging open. “What?”

  “Details,” Tracy said, snapping her fingers.

  “Tracy, doesn’t the fact that I slept with a former student disturb you?”

  “Not as much as it disturbs you, apparently.”

  Mia looked at Tracy as she twisted her mouth. “So, you don’t see anything wrong?”

  “Nope.”

  “How about Tim?” Mia felt a knot in her stomach, remembering how quickly he got off the phone at the mere mention of a commitment. Admittedly, she’d set him up, but damn, did he have to bite so quickly? Jerk!

  “What about him? I’ve been telling you he’s not for you.” Tracy went to a cabinet and grabbed her favorite coffee mug. “Besides, nothing wrong with having a stud-puppy for fun,” Tracy said with a big grin on her face.

  “But, Trace, Tim’s a stable, hard work—”