“MS. TATE, Ms. Tate, there’s a ghost!”
I smiled at the little boy who was working with pieces of magazine prints to recreate his own picture story as a part of an assignment for one of my education electives. “There’s a ghost in your story?”
I would miss them when the class was over. I loved being in the classroom. Answering their questions. Watching a student exploring art was an experience without compare.
The little boy named Tony was a mischief maker, but he did well if he was encouraged to stay on task. He shook his dark brown curls and said, “No, Ms. Tate.” Then, he pointed toward the classroom door. “Right there!”
I glanced over his shoulder, prepared to humor him, but found something more horror inducing than a ghost—Mrs. Hampton stood at the door—her pale overly made-up face peering through the keyhole window. I gasped before I could check my response, causing several other students to perk up from their assignments and follow my gaze to the door.
Mrs. Hampton knocked twice in rapid succession, then opened the door before I could get to my feet. She was as intimidating as ever. Not a hair was out of place and her outfit—a sleek, feminine suit—cost more than my entire wardrobe. She took a step inside, pausing by the door.
“Tony, why don’t you finish up here while I talk with our visitor?” I replaced the glue I was using and got to my feet.
I trembled with a combination of humiliation and rage, but I tried my best not to let it show. Lifting a hand, I gestured to the hall. “Why don’t we talk outside, where there’s more privacy?”
With a derisive little sniff, she turned on her heel and I followed her out into the hall.
“What are you doing here?” I asked when we were alone. The hallway was blessedly deserted. It was embarrassing enough being confronted by her again, without having it witnessed by a colleague or student. “This is my job. You shouldn’t be here.”
“I wouldn’t be here if you’d taken my advice from our last conversation.”
“What I do or don’t do in my personal life is none of your business.”
“If it involves my family, it is my business.” She reached into her leather bag, dug around, then pulled out a checkbook. She flipped it open with ease, clearly used to spending money like it was water. The gold glint of her pen flashed in the dingy light from the fluorescents overhead. She scribbled in a neat scrawl on a blank check.
I took a step backward, uncomprehending. “I think you should leave,” I sputtered before she could say a word. She wasn’t doing what I thought she was. People only did that sort of thing in the movies. There was no way this was real life. I glanced back at my classroom to find my students peeking up from their work to see what I was doing. At my glance, they turned their attention back to their desks.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” she said, still writing.
“Don’t make me call security,” I warned. How had she even gotten past the front desk? I didn’t think she had any kids here at the school.
She gave a mirthless laugh and arched a perfect brow. “Please do,” Mrs. Hampton invited. “My family has donated thousands of dollars to the public school system.”
I gritted my teeth. It was like dealing with a steel wall. She should have gone into politics instead of her husband. People like her, and my mom, expected others to bow to their will. They saw the world as theirs for the ruling. A migraine pounded behind my eyes.
“Then what do you want?” I asked in a measured tone. The sooner I could get it out of her, the sooner I could make her leave. “Dash and I aren’t together, so I’m not sure what you’re doing here.”
She ripped a check out of her checkbook and snapped it closed. After thrusting it back into her bag, she pursed her lips, then said, “I’m not an idiot, Ms. Tate. Dashiel may have brought Jessica to the gala last night, but a woman knows when a man isn’t interested, and his mind was on someone else.”
I brushed my hair out of my face, wishing I could feel half as put together as she was. “I’m not sure what you want me to do about that. I can’t control how someone feels.” Which was an understatement.
She shoved the check under my nose. “That may be so, but you can make sure he has no reason to keep his hopes up.”
I glanced at the check. I couldn’t help it—it was practically down my throat. There were so many zeroes my eyes crossed. “Is this a joke?” I blurted out. “I’m not taking your money. Are you insane?” My voice rose with each word and I checked myself before someone else could hear.
“Think about it, Ms. Tate. This money could set you up for the next chapter of your life. You’ve only been with Dashiel for a short time. Is that acquaintance worth passing up such an opportunity?”
Heat flamed across my cheeks and my eyes narrowed. I clenched my hands into fists at my sides. “You must think very little about your grandson,” I said, my voice vibrating with fury.
“On the contrary,” she said coolly, “I think very highly of my grandson.” The disdain for me couldn’t have been clearer. “I want what is best for him. I thought I’d been perfectly frank the first time around, but I should have considered you’d need a motivator.”
“This conversation is over. I’ll do you the favor of never speaking of this to Dash, because it would break his heart, but let me make it clear: whatever I do with Dash is none of your business. I will never take your money. Now you need to leave.”
She reached forward, but I was so angry I was frozen to the spot. With a quick movement, she tucked the check into the pocket of my khaki pants. “In case you change your mind.” Mrs. Hampton put on a sleek pair of sunglasses, then stopped a few steps away. “I hope I’ve made myself clear. I wouldn’t want something to happen with your education. It would be a shame.”
With that parting shot, she waved her fingers in my direction and sauntered off.
I stayed by the door to my classroom. Less than five minutes had passed, but it felt like my whole world was off its center axis. Did that really just happen? It was a complete nightmare.
Before returning to my students, I took some time to calm my emotions. I couldn’t let them see me upset. Even though I waited until my breathing calmed and my face cooled off, the moment I walked into the classroom and sat next to Tony, he turned his boyish face up and said, “Is everything okay, Ms. Tate? Do you want a candy? Candy always makes me feel better when I’m upset.”
I ruffled his silken hair. “I’m fine, sweetheart, just grown-up stuff. Nothing to worry about. Why don’t you show me what you were working on while I was gone?”
ALL I WANTED after my student teaching was done for the day was an hour at the gym to clear my thoughts and a long, steaming hot shower. It had been hours since our confrontation, but I still felt like I was covered in a sticky, slimy residue. It was the same feeling I got after a family vacation with my mother for a week without an escape.
I went home to change into gym clothes and made my way back to campus. The gym was always packed with students, but the equipment was top-of-the-line and free for students, so it was worth the drive. I scanned my I.D. at the sensor and plugged in my headphones, hoping to drown out the booming music and buzz of conversation. All I wanted to do was disappear for a little while.
When I saw Charlie on the treadmill, I had to admit, I wasn’t super stoked. I didn't want anyone to see me like this. Didn’t want them to read the conflict in my eyes. But I couldn’t turn away when she recognized me, brightened, and waved.
I crossed the crowded gym to her side and took out an earbud. “Hey! I didn’t expect to see you here.”
She bounded off the treadmill, her face pink with exertion. “Layla! I’m so happy to see you. It’s been so busy at work, I feel like it’s been forever. I don’t want to interrupt your workout, but I’d love to catch up with you. It’s not the same nice I moved in with Liam.”
I shook my head. “Of course. You finished here?” I asked.
“I’ve got about fifteen more minutes, if you don�
�t mind joining me?” she said.
“Sure.” I wrapped my towel around the bar and stepped up to the treadmill beside hers. “How has work been?”
Charlie bumped up her speed and resumed her trot. “Hell, that’s why I’m here. Liam got tired of listening to me complain, so he forced me to go to the gym a couple times a week to work off my frustrations.”
“That bad, huh?” The brisk pace of my own treadmill caused me to pant a little.
She grimaced. “It’s not bad, really. Just a lot of red tape and a lot to learn. I complain about it, but I’m loving it.” Charlie shot me a look and swiped at her brow. “But that’s not what we were going to talk about. Ember updated me about everything that was going on. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the last powwow.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I know you’re busy. You don’t have to drop everything for me.”
Even though she was nearly jogging, Charlie still had energy enough to give me a look that said don’t-be-stupid. “I’m not even going to touch on that. From what Ember said, you’ve had a lot on your plate, too. I just want to be there for you.”
“You’re always there for me.”
“I hate to say this, but you look like you got run over by a truck. Did something else happen? Do I need to kick Dash’s ass? You say the word and I’ll do it.”
I laughed, but it was half-hearted. “Well, I’m assuming Ember told you about what his grandmother did a little while ago?”
“Yeah, the dusty old bitch. Oh my God, did she do something else?” She abruptly turned off her treadmill. “Let’s do some weights. I need to be able to focus, and I can’t do that when I’m almost out of breath.”
“It just happened,” I said, following her. “I don’t even know what to think.”
“Well, spill. I’m happy to commiserate and say some chants to curse her for life. One of my patients in a witch and she’s been teaching me some stuff.”
Selecting a dumbbell, I sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“We have time. It’ll help you feel better to talk about it. What happened?”
“Fine, but no curses. I don’t need the bad karma.”
Charlie did a few bicep curls. “I promise.”
As we worked through several weight training exercises, I recounted the conversation with Elizabeth Hampton, getting more and more angry and desolate the second time around.
“You have to tell Dash!” Charlie said when I finished.
“I can’t. Would you want to hear that?”
It was already bad enough I hadn’t mentioned the first conversation to him. The second would kill him. As much as this break was killing me, I was grateful for the time to process what had happened so I could figure out how to handle it.
“I would want to know if my family was scheming behind my back. So would he.”
I reverse curled as I considered. “Maybe. I have some time to think about it while we’re on this break until the end of the semester. You never know. Maybe he won’t even want to get back together, and it won’t be an issue.”
Charlie just shook her head. “You’re being too pessimistic. We’ve all seen how Dash is around you. You’ve got it bad for him, too, and you know it. You’re just too afraid to admit it to yourself.”
“We don’t even get along most of the time!” I blurted out. “We argue more often than not. Not to mention his grandmother. There are so many things working against us.”
“Then don’t make a decision now. Take the break to think about it. But first, you’ve got to tell me... How much money was it?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not telling you that. No amount of money could have convinced me to walk away from him.”
Charlie just smiled. “I guess that means you have your answer.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
DASH
I HAVE three missed calls from Jessica and three times as many text messages, but there’s nothing from Layla. Not that I was expecting there to be. She made it clear, taking this break meant minimal to no contact and I understood.
That didn’t mean I had to like it.
She would have killed me if I took a ride down to her apartment, even though I thought about doing just that dozens of times a day. My sleep was shit because all I could do was remember her in my bed and think about how impossibly close she was. Just an elevator ride away. In less time than it would take to order an espresso, I could have my hands on her, could have her body beneath mine.
The time between now and the end of the semester seemed to multiply with each passing day.
I’ve kept our relationship as professional as possible, like she requested. I only saw her during class and never showed her any preferential treatment. She sat every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday in the same spot in the lecture hall. I made it a point not to stare, but I’d watch her out of the corner of my eye whenever I gave a reading assignment or when the other students were distracted.
I began searching for her face in the crowds on campus. Even though there were thousands of students, I always seemed to think I recognized her everywhere. It drove me a little crazy.
Sighing, I got to my feet. It had been another sleepless night, and I’d need about two pots of coffee in order to face the day. While it brewed, I took a shower and stroked myself under the hot spray, thinking of Layla’s face when she’d come in my office. There was something about pushing her to those limits. Watching her overcome the apprehension and dive into the pleasure without hesitation. I ached with the need to see her, touch her, taste her again. Hell, another one of our arguments would probably do it for me at this point.
The shower and jerking off didn’t help. Thinking about her only made it worse. It had been less than a month since we agreed to take some space; another month was going to kill me.
I thought about visiting my parents for a distraction when I was finished with my own classes for the day but decided against it. When they visited, it almost always ended with my grandmother barging in at some point, and I really didn’t want to be poked at any more about what a nice girl Jessica was.
I poured the coffee into a thermos and dressed in loose gym shorts and a light long-sleeved shirt. I had a couple hours before I needed to be in class and a long, exhausting walk sounded like the best way to spend it. As I was locking up, the elevator dinged and drew my eye. Cursing, I jogged to it, hoping to reach it before it shut again.
“Hey, man,” Tripp said as I walked into the elevator. He had a bag slung over his shoulder and was wearing a similar getup, track pants and a light long-sleeved shirt.
Relieved at seeing a familiar face, I said, “Hey, what are you doing up so early?”
Tripp also lived in the building and hung out sometimes during Taco Tuesdays with Ember. An idiot could tell he had a thing for her, but both of them tried to say they were just friends. Not my business.
He adjusted the bag over his shoulder. “Practice, dude. I’ve got gym for an hour this morning for weight training, then some team drills.”
“It’s not even season yet, and you have to get up this early to practice?” Sports outside of recreational football, had never really been my thing.
“Year-round, dude. Baseball is life. Where are you going this early?” he asked, as we got off the elevator at the parking garage.
I waved my thermos of coffee around. “I thought about heading out to do some working out of my own.”
“Why don’t you ride with me to the gym?”
“Are you sure, man? I don’t want to get in your way.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s free training in the off season, so the other guys won’t care. We can throw some balls around. Whatever.”
“Sure, why not?” I could use the distraction.
“We can take my car. I’ll drop you back by here after the gym.”
Tripp lead me to a beat-up, old Honda Civic. For some reason, it wasn’t the sort of car I imagined the star baseball player would drive, but I didn’t commen
t.
“Haven’t seen you around Taco Tuesdays lately,” Tripp said as we buckled up.
I shrugged. “I figured I’d give Layla some room.”
“Did the two of you have another fight?”
The teasing tone in his voice made me smile a little for the first time in a while. “I guess we aren’t very subtle.”
“About as subtle as a foul ball to the back of your head.”
“We’re just taking some space. It’s hard being objective when she’s one of my students. She takes her education very seriously.”
“Ahh, I get it,” Tripp said with a sly glance in my direction.
“Get what?”
“You’ve got a thing for her, right?”
“That obvious?”
Tripp drove lazily with one hand on the wheel and the other on his thigh. I’d never given him much consideration before now because I’d been so focused on Layla, but he wasn’t all that bad. I didn’t normally hang out with the jock types, but he wasn’t in your face about it. In fact, he seemed pretty down to earth.
“Nah, I overheard Ember talking to Charlie about it the other day, when we were studying.”
“Oh, studying. Right. Is that what the kids call it now?”
“It’s okay, I won’t say you’re projecting. And I won't tell Lay you’ve been pining over her.”
“You mean like no one has ever told Ember you’re into her, too?”
Tripp grinned, surprising me. “That’s old news, man. I asked her out once freshman year, but I was a bit of a manwhore back then, and she didn’t take me seriously. Blew my chance. Then she hooked up with Chris and the rest is history. We’re just friends now.”
“You do know she and Chris have been arguing, right?”
“They always argue. Get back together. It’s a two-person soap opera.”
“So why do you stick around? Star baseball player, self-proclaimed ladies’ man and all. Do you enjoy watching her with her boyfriend or something? No judgment if you do, I know some people are into that.“
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