by Aria Blue
Ms. Jones studied the ceiling thoughtfully. “No. As much as I loathe you, if you quit, someone else would be brought it and who knows who that would be? I’d rather work with the demon I already know. This conversation is over, pig. You have until Friday to make your choice.”
She turned on her heels to leave, but Presley stopped her. “How did you know we were in here?” he asked. He got an uneasy feeling. When he’d had a threesome with the PTA moms, Jones had shown up just as they finished. She knew something had happened, but she couldn’t prove it. Jones had no reason to be backstage in the auditorium. Now here she was again. What was she doing in the kitchen after school hours?
“Are you following me or something,” Presley asked. “Watching me on the surveillance cameras?”
Jones scoffed at the accusation. “Don’t flatter yourself. Presley, I do both my workload and yours. Do you really think I have time to be following you around this campus? Unlike you, I do my job. At the end of each day, I do a full sweep of the campus to make sure that everything is clean, secure, locked-up, and in its place. Have you ever done that? Even once?”
No, he hadn’t, and he felt guilty because that was a pretty good reason.
“Anyway,” she said, “I feel like I need to take a shower just being near you. This conversation is over. Friday.”
That time when she turned to leave, Presley let her. He’d always known that one day his sexcapades would lead to trouble, but he had no idea this would be the cost.
Chapter 4
The next day, against his better judgment, Presley stopped by Marcia’s classroom early before school. She hadn’t answered his calls the night before and he needed to set her mind at ease. Even though Marcia had been an active participant, and the kitchen had been her idea, he was her superior, so ultimately he felt responsible.
Marcia was busy scribbling instructions for her first period class on her dry erase board. Presley forced himself to keep his gaze off her ass as it moved from side to side.
Marcia turned at the sound of the door closing behind Presley. Her eyes widened when she saw him. “Pres, I’m sorry but you shouldn’t be in here. You can’t come in here ever again.”
Presley walked toward her but made sure to keep a considerable distance between them. “I know I shouldn’t be in here, but I needed to talk to you. I wanted you to know that everything is going to be okay. I’ll take care of it.”
Worry flashed across Marcia’s face. “What does that mean? What did Jones say? What is she going to do to us? You know that bitch has had it out for you since day one.”
Presley sighed and perched himself on a desk. “She promised not to tell anyone anything about what she saw, but I have to do one thing first.”
Marcia frowned. “Really? What’s that?”
“I have to stop down as principal and tell my father to give her the job.”
Marcia put the cap on the dry-erase marker and set in on the ledge of the board. She moved closer to Presley so that they were standing face to face. “Pres, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want you to.”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s done. I’ll be alright. I’m not going to let your career be ruined over this.” Presley shuddered. “I suppose it won’t be so bad having Jones as principal.”
Marcia shook her head. “Are you kidding me? She’ll totally going to change the entire mood of this place. Everyone will hate to work here. Isn’t there another way?”
“I wish there was,” Presley replied.
Marcia smiled slyly, wrapping her arms around his waist. “For what it’s worth, it was totally worth it.”
Presley’s face warmed remembering their encounter in the kitchen. It had been fun and exciting until Jones barged in and ruined it. His hate for her intensified the more he thought about her. The woman was hell-bent on ruining his life.
Marcia brushed her fingers over his lips. “Pres, thank you. I really mean that. You’re saving my job.” She stood on her tip-toes to press her lips against his. Presley lost himself in her kiss, clasping the back of her head gently, running his fingers through her hair.
“Ms. Fox, I needed to—”
Presley and Marcia pulled apart abruptly and turned toward the door. Sara Snow stood there open-mouthed. She cleared her throat, keeping her eyes on Marcia as if Presley wasn’t even there. “Ms. Fox, I needed to speak with you about a student, but I can see you’re busy. I’ll come back another time.”
Sara turned on her heels and stormed away. Presley gave Marcia a look before following Sara down the hallway.
“Sara,” he called after her, but she wouldn’t stop. Not until they were behind the closed doors of her office.
“What, Presley? What do you have to say?”
“Look, I’m really sorry you had to see that, but . . . I mean, like you said, we’re not officially together. You’re seeing other people.”
Sara lowered herself into her desk chair. “First of all, you lied to me, straight to my face. I asked if you were screwing her and you said ‘No, Sara. Of course not.’ She’s a teacher. Presley, must I really explain to you how inappropriate this is?”
Presley hated how she could do whatever she wanted but always wanted to judge him. “Listen, Sara. You can’t have it both ways. If you don’t want to be in an exclusive relationship with me, fine, but you don’t get to throw this stuff in my face. What Marcia and I do is none of your business?”
Sara sighed. “You’re right, Presley. It’s not. But I don’t think you’re looking at things from my point of view. Let’s say we do get back together and we are exclusive, what happens with you and Marcia? You still have to see each other every day. I still have to look at her and know that you screwed her. I’m never going to get that visual out of my head.”
Presley was done worrying about her feelings and walking on eggshells for a woman who kept acting as if she didn’t even want to be with him. If she would just get back with him, they wouldn’t be having this problem. “That’s just too bad. You’ll just have to deal with it.”
Sara hopped up from her seat. For a second, Presley though she was going to slap him, but she folded her arms over her chest. “I’m kind of glad to hear you say that, because I’ve kind of been keeping something from you.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” What else could she tell him that would break his heart?
“You know the guy I’m going out with this weekend.”
A knot formed in Presley’s stomach. His mind ran through all his friends and he didn’t think any of them would stab him in the back like that. They knew how he felt about Sara. “Yeah? Who?”
“Most of us know him as Dean McGuire, but you call him dad.”
Chapter Five
Presley glared at her. “You’re lying. Don’t even joke like that.”
Sara smirked. She was enjoying this. “I’m not lying, Presley. He asked me a few weeks ago. At first I thought it might be weird, but I thought about it. Finally, I said ‘why not?’”
“Why not? I’ll tell you why not? For one, he’s old enough to be your father and two, he’s my father. You don’t date your boyfriend’s father. What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck is wrong with the both of you?”
Sara sat down again. “First, you’re not my boyfriend, and second, after we broke up, I dated my fair share of older men, even older than your father. I like them. They’re more refined and they have their shit together. They’re actually ready to be in a mature relationship and they treat me well. None of this frat-boy shit that you pull that you’re too old for, by the way. And like you told me, you’ll just have to deal with it.”
Presley was seething. He couldn’t hear anymore. The bell was ringing to start the school day. Part of him hoped that Sara was making this up just to get under his skin. Only one thing would clear it all up. Talking to his father himself.
Presley stormed to the Dean’s office which was located in another section of the school. Dean McGuire liked to work in peac
e away from everyone else. He had an office with his own personal secretary and for most of the day, it was just the two of them.
Presley walked in to find Amber sitting at her desk. “Good morning, Amber. Is my father in?”
She nodded. “Yes, Principal McGuire, but he’s on a phone call.”
Presley didn’t care. He barreled through the doors of his father’s office, slamming the door behind him.
Dean McGuire looked at his son and held up a finger.
“Hang up!” Presley demanded.
The dean frowned and Presley pressed the END CALL button on the phone. Dean McGuire slammed the receiver down. “What the hell is wrong with you, Presley?”
“Are you or are you not going out with Sara this weekend?”
The dean sat back in his chair, staring at his son. He was a good-looking man, an older version of Presley. He kept in shape and still had a full head of salt and pepper hair. This was the man Presley got his looks and charm from, but Presley never imagined they would one day be competing for the same woman.
“Presley, I asked her out before I knew the two of you were going to give it another go.”
Presley sat in a chair across from his father. “Fine. Then you can call the date off now that you know.”
“I can’t do that.”
Presley sat forward. “Why the hell not?”
“Because a date is a date and when I tell someone I’m going to do something, I do it. I promised Sara and spectacular weekend and I’m going to make sure she has one.”
“What the hell kind of father are you? I know you’ve never liked me, but I never thought you would betray me like this. You know how I feel about Sara.”
The dean sighed. “I know how you feel about Sara, and Natalie, and any other woman you’re screwing.”
Presley clenched his teeth. “Natalie was your idea so don’t you dare throw that in my face. I only dated her because you told me to so I’d get the PTA moms off my back. Now you want to use that against me? And I’m not screwing any other women.” Except Marcia, but that was okay because he wasn’t in an exclusive relationship. “You’re going to call this date off with Sara.”
The dean grinned. “Presley, you’re my son and I love you. God knows I raised you the best I could especially after your mother died, but you don’t know how to treat a woman outside of your wanton sex fantasies. Sara deserves better and I can give her better. If you really loved her, you’d want her to be happy and I just don’t think you can give her happiness. Maybe I can.”
Presley narrowed his eyes at his father. “So you’re really going to do this? You’re really going to do this to your own son?”
“I’m not doing anything. If Sara didn’t want to go out with me, she wouldn’t be. Ultimately, it’ll be her choice. Let the best man win. Surely, the great Presley McGuire doesn’t feel threatened by his old man.”
Presley thought about the times he and Sara were together. All the dinners they’d had with his father. The times the three of them had hung out together. What had been going through the dean’s mind then? Had he been visualizing himself with Sara, plotting ways he could get her for himself? Presley had never wanted to slug his own father.
“I never want to speak to you again,” he said. “And I mean that.”
The dean smirked not looking bothered by that at all. “Okay, son. I think you should be going now. I think we both have work to do.”
Chapter Six
Presley closed himself up in his office. He didn’t want to speak to anyone and he couldn’t focus on his work. He was supposed to be going over that quarter’s budget, but it would have to wait.
There was a sharp knock on his door and he knew who it was immediately. As usual, the door swung open before Presley had a chance to respond. Ms. Jones sauntered in and parked herself in one of Presley’s chairs.
He rolled his eyes. “Why do you even bother to knock? You just come in without an invitation, anyway.”
She sneered at him. “Why is your door even closed? Why do I have to knock? What could you possibly be doing in here that you wouldn’t want people to see?”
Presley had no energy left to fight with her. He’d used it all to keep from hitting his father. “What do you want?”
She glanced at her nails. They were always filed low and she only ever wore clear polish on them. “I was just checking to see where we were on the whole job-switching thing. I saw you go into your father’s office but I assumed you didn’t tell him because I haven’t received a phone call yet.”
Presley came to a conclusion right there. Ms. Jones was indeed stalking him. That had to be the only way she always knew where he was. He should have never brought the bullshit reason she gave of making sure everything was okay around the school.
“We were talking about something else. You gave me until Friday. It’s only Wednesday so why are you here?”
Ms. Jones crossed her legs and grinned. “I wanted to run some things by you—specifically, Mr. Murphy, Ms. O’Brien, Mrs. Ying, and Mr. Kirby.”
“What about them?”
She clicked her tongue. “I think you’ve let them slide under the radar for far too long. As principal, my first order of business will be to get rid of them. Their test scores have fallen, their classroom management is lacking, and what they are giving our students is subpar to the kind of education they should be receiving at McGuire Prep. How are we supposed to keep our reputation for being the best school on the west coast with these types of teachers?”
“You’re not firing anyone,” Presley said between clenched teeth. This was just what he had been afraid of. “They’re all fine teachers.”
“You’re only saying that because Murphy is one of your friends. He’s horrible at his job. Pull his scores.”
Presley felt the need to defend his friend, not only because he was his friend, but because he really was a good instructor. “You have to cut him some slack. Algebra is a hard subject, and he’s doing the best he can.”
She scoffed again. “Enjoy giving me your two cents now, because after Friday I won’t care and it won’t matter. You’ll be a quiet little church mouse sitting in your corner while I run things and those weak teachers will be gone. I’m thinking we should hire some kids fresh out of college. That way I can teach and mold them to be the way we need them to be. After that, my next order of business would be to get rid of these old biddies who need to retire. Their teaching methods are outdated and they cost us a lot more money. We can hire newbies who’ll work for much less. I’m really going to clean house.”
“Cleaning house” meant that good teachers who had dedicated many years to McGuire Prep would be out of jobs. Presley couldn’t let that happen. These people were like his family.
He leaned back in his seat watching the idea of power take over Jones. Marcia was right. Jones was going to turn this place into a prison and make everyone miserable. “You know, I’ve been thinking. You are the last person in the world who should be the principal of any school. Teaching is hard enough without you making it worse for these people. I’m going to keep my job. I’m not stepping down.”
The look of pleasure drained from Jones’ face. “You’re not, huh? Well, why don’t I pay a little visit to your father and let him know what you’ve been up to.”
Presley stood up. “Go ahead. I’ll even come with you. How’s that?”
That wasn’t the reaction she’d been expecting. Jones scrunched her face at him, storming from the office. Presley followed right on her heels. The office staff watched them, probably wondering what was going on. Something was obviously wrong, and it wasn’t unusual for Presley and Jones to bump heads.
Jones flew by Amber who stared at her and Presley, but before she could object to them barging in, both Jones and Presley were in the dean’s office with the door closed behind them. The dean was filling out a form. He looked back and forth between the two of them and then dropped his pen. “Whatever it is, can’t the two of you work this out?”
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“No, Dean McGuire,” Jones answered quickly. “I’ve some across some troubling information that I need to share with you about your son.”
The dean looked warily at Presley. “What has he done now?”
Presley felt like he was five years old all over again, in trouble for sending his baseball through the neighbor’s window.
Jones took a deep breath. “Unfortunately I found your son in a compromising position with a Ms. Marcia Fox. They were in the kitchen engaging in sexual activity. I found them both completely naked and I suspect this isn’t the first time they have indulged in such dalliances.”
She looked at Presley triumphantly, proud of what she’d done, but Presley wasn’t worried at all. How could his father chastise him when he himself was involved with an employee of McGuire Prep?
Surprise flashed across the dean’s face, then it was replaced by the look of ‘I shouldn’t be surprised at all. This is what Presley does.’
“Is this true, son?” he asked Presley.
Presley nodded. “Yes. I am ashamed of my actions and it won’t happen again. I only hope that you will give both Ms. Fox and I another chance.”
Jones scoffed. “Another chance for what? Dirtying up the sterile surfaces of the kitchen where the students’ food is prepared?”
“Adella, that will be all,” the dean said.
Her jaw dropped. “Dean, what do you mean, that will be all? What are you going to do about this? I know Presley’s your son, but he needs to be fired or at least demoted!”
The dean clasped his fingers in front of his face. “I thank you for bringing this to my attention, but he’s neither going to be fired or demoted. Don’t worry though, I will deal with Principal McGuire accordingly.”