That’s what I loved about Kennedy, nothing seemed to bother her much. I’m sure plenty of things did, but she never let it show. Except once when Brett, the guy she dated in college, cheated on her with one of her sorority sisters. The situation called for weeks of vodka, pints of rocky road ice cream and a medium pizza with the works.
Several minutes later, I rushed out of my bedroom towards the smell of French Roast wafting through the air and into the open area of the kitchen – dining room combo. The apartment couldn’t have been no more than 900 square feet, but I loved our little apartment. It was quaint, cozy and definitely quiet. A nice way of saying small but I didn’t care.
“You are such a lifesaver.” I grabbed the thermos and a half-eaten strawberry flavored pop tart out of her hands.
“Hey, I was eating that!” Kennedy’s voice called out as I made a dash for the door.
“Thanks again!” I gave her a wink.
“Good luck!” she waved me goodbye as I shut the front door.
Thirty minutes later, I arrived at John Hill Academy and parked my rundown VW Bug, a hand me down from my father before he passed away. It was one of the main reasons why I haven’t upgraded to something newer. It was the last precious thing of his that I owned besides pictures of him. I’d rather spend twice as much keeping that car going than using it for a down payment on a new one.
I rushed down the hallway carrying my lesson plans, academic planner, and other miscellaneous paperwork haphazardly until I stumbled slightly on an uprooted piece of linoleum causing everything I struggled to hold onto, to fly away and land on the floor in front of me.
“Great, just my luck. Happy Monday to me.” I sighed as I grabbed paper after paper before they flew away from me.
“I happen to like Mondays.” a familiar and deep baritone answered above me. I looked up from the pair of black oxfords before me to find a well-dressed man smiling down before he knelt to help me pick up the disarray all over my little corner of the hallway. “In fact, it’s one of my favorite days of the week. There’s something about having that natural feeling of ambition that I love. It’s never as great as it is at the start of a work week.”
“Patrick? What are you doing here?” It was the first time I’ve seen him since our split, many moons ago. He still had the most magnetic brown eyes I’ve ever seen and a killer grin that gave me goosebumps but this time around he adorned a 5 o’clock shadow. He used to stay clean cut, but I guess everyone changes at some point. After a while, I realized he still hadn’t responded to my earlier comment before I cleared my throat. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see someone. What about you? What are you doing in San Francisco? In fact, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, I…uh…live here. I teach at this school, I’m one of the fifth-grade teachers. Who are you here to see? Are you here to see me?” Ugh, why did I say that?
“No, no, no.” he gave an endearing smile. “I’m here to see Phil Williams, he’s the administrator here. He gave me directions but for the life of me…I…uh…I think I’m lost. I’m so embarrassed, I’m normally not directionally challenged.” he opened the leather portfolio he held and scanned the papers inside. It looked like he used it for everything. God forbid it gets lost. Otherwise, he’d be shit out of luck. This definitely wasn’t the Patrick I remembered.
The Patrick I knew was disorganized in his life, obsessed with his looks and his charm centered on the fact that he knew what women wanted deep down and used it to his advantage. He said and did all of the right things until he ditched them. So unless this was some random stranger that looked like Patrick and was named Patrick, then he changed a lot and grew up a little.
“Uh, yeah. Just go down the hallway, turn right at the corner and it’s the first door on your left.” I pointed behind me.
“Great, thank you so much. So you teach fifth-grade now? Last I heard, you were teaching at a community college back in Chicago. Don’t they require additional credentials to teach at the elementary school level?”
“Yes, they do, and I’ve got them all done just in case. Never imagined I’d actually use them as I was content with teaching college students but things happen for a reason I guess.”
“Well, it’s good to see you Emily.” he smiled again.
“It’s Morgan now.” I corrected.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I go by Morgan Tucker now. I figured if I was going to move across the country for a fresh start, I might as well do it right.” I shrugged and gave an awkward chuckle.
“Morgan Tucker. So you went back to using your first name. Hmm.” he eyed me a little.
“What? What’s wrong with using the name I was given.”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I could ever get used to calling you anything but Emily. It suits you better. I’ll see you around.” Patrick winked before heading towards the direction of the Administration office.
He really did change, or at least he was putting on a front, but I don’t think he was. I’d like to think he finally grew up and learned the error of his ways but only time would answer that question. Hearing how he admitted how he didn’t think he could get used to the idea that I have changed to was something Patrick would say now.
It’s apparent that despite the fact that Patrick was as charming as ever and probably even more so now, he was organized, well-dressed and doing well for himself. Cocky too. Realizing the fact that he was the pompous ass that interviewed me was no surprise. It looked like everything worked out for Patrick and was proud of what he must have accomplished.
As far as calling me Emily, my dad was the only person in my family besides Patrick who called me that or some version thereof while the rest of the world called me Morgan, my actual first name. I guess that was why Patrick used to mean so much to me, he was the only guy my father actually liked and Patrick reminded me so much of him. They were close and got along well, and my dad treated Patrick like the son he never had. They often debated over various athletes and the most recent games on television. When my father passed away, I expected Patrick to be there, but he wasn’t.
That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was one thing to not get married or make some excuse about not wanting to be with me, but he was the one person I expected to be there for me besides my sister Corrine and my mother, but he wasn’t. He went off the grid and disappeared for months.
When he finally made an appearance, he didn’t bother explaining where he was. The only thing he bothered to say was that ‘we’ weren’t working out and he didn’t see a future with me.
Now here he was, looking as good as ever. In fact, he looked better than when I saw him last. His hair was cut and trimmed neatly pearly white teeth, he looked more athletic and built and damn good in that sharp black suit he wore. He looked like he embodied the definition of power and even his dark purple tie made him look like he was royalty.
I sighed with emotion, and I needed to get out of there. I felt a sense of panic and stress rise in my chest quickly to the same heights they were at when he and I split, and I just didn’t want to go there again. I was at a good place in my life, and I refused to let Patrick ruin everything I worked hard to fix.
Chapter Two
PATRICK
When Phil Williams of John Hill Academy in San Francisco found my contact information and reached out to me in desperate need of rehabilitation, never in my wildest dreams, did I expect to run into Emily here? Even when I saw her name on the Staff and Faculty roster I had the option to interview, it never dawned on me that it could be her. Sure the name was familiar, but it didn’t really spark any sort of recognition. I spent the years we were together calling her Emily, I pretty much forgot what her actual name was.
Seeing her now brought on memories I had long forgotten and affected me more than I thought it would have. I believed that her presence and closeness no longer had any power over me like it used to because a lot has changed since we split. Months after our
split, I moved to Los Angeles to start a marketing firm with my fraternity brother, Sean. We spent the past couple of years setting up the infrastructure and carefully grew the business to where it was now. A few months ago, we landed a big account with a national hotel chain and had been growing warp speed ever since.
My partner, Sean, moved to Chicago recently to build up our second office location to make it easier when we worked on projects for what was our most significant account while I stayed in Los Angeles to take care of our existing clients. Every month or so we took turns visiting the other to catch up in more detail about what was taking place at our respective office locations. It was the only way we were going to keep things going as well as they have been so far. Skyping could only do so much.
Sean asked me a few weeks ago if I would ever consider moving SP & Associates to Chicago completely, making it our new headquarters. I haven’t given him an answer yet because it was a hard decision to make. There were so many moving parts to think about beyond me changing my life, we had employees to think about.
I mean, I would and could move at the drop of a hat, but I doubted any of our employees could do the same. Some of them had children, relatives and established lives that would be impacted by a decision to move over two thousand miles away.
The other worry I had that Sean didn’t think about was that we didn’t know how long the hotel chain would remain our client nor how long they would be happy with the work we were doing for them. It didn’t matter if the person in charge of the continuation of our business relationship was the boss and friend of Sean’s girlfriend, Bridgette. We still had to be prepared for the day the client who controlled 70% of our revenue may not want to continue working with us one day.
The idea worried me, and I kept trying to identify different sources of new clients to balance out portfolio when I was contacted to assist John Hill Academy in their pursuit of revitalization to bring more of the students they identified for long-term sustainability.
It wasn’t very common for schools like John Hill to contact a firm like ours for assistance with rehabilitation and revitalization. Educational institutions had to go through various hoops and approvals to even hire a company like us to do the type of work that wasn’t quite common but I was grateful for whatever work I was able to find and hopefully they could become a continued client of ours. The steadier the clients I brought in, the less power the hotel chain had over Sean, the company we built and me.
These were the types of problems I’ve grown accustomed to handling but running into Emily today was something else altogether. Never in a million years did I ever expect to see her here and if I knew she’d be here, then there was a strong chance I wouldn’t have accepted this client. As much as SP & Associates needed to obtain a stronger foothold by diversifying a steady stream of clients, I wasn’t sure if it was that important if it meant running into her again.
I shook my head to dilute the thoughts that were coming close to the surface after putting it behind me a long time ago. Once I crossed that line, there was no going back, and I would have to get over Emily all over again. I wasn’t willing to go there again.
After a few minutes of preparing myself, I made my way into the Administration Office where Emily said I could find Phil Williams. I pushed open the wooden door into the modernized office space. I tapped the bell on the front counter, and within seconds, I heard squeaky footsteps across the mint-colored floor. It had specks of white matching the mint gum I rolled around in my mouth. It was a nervous habit I was trying to break.
Muffled conversations grew more vibrant as each second passed, “We could definitely consider that, but I think our objective today is to finish up the last round of counseling appointments and sift through their secondary plans.”
“Yes, Mr. Williams. I’ll get right on it.” a stern-faced woman confirmed. She looked serious, the kind of woman you didn’t want to mess with. She reminded me of my old Dean, Dr. Sherry, during my old college days. The entire student body feared her, and we even dubbed her ‘Scary Sherry.’
“Thank you, Mary. Oh, hello there! You must be Mr. Mitchell.”
“How’d you guess?” I laughed in amazement.
“A wild guess and the fact that I didn’t have the slightest clue who you were. I know all of the parents, so I figured you were either a prospective parent or were from SP & Associates.” the burly man shook my hand before patting me on the back. “I’d like to thank you again for taking the time to be here. We are forever grateful for your assistance. John Hill has needed a complete reorganization for a long time.”
“I do what I can, but I assure you once I complete all of the faculty and staff interviews, sit in some of the classes and assess various minor things I’ll be able to generate a report of the recommendations needed to be implemented. It’s hard to say at this point what the solution is without getting a full picture of what is happening internally.” I added.
“Well, shall we get to it then?” Mr. Williams gestured towards what must have led to his office.
“Certainly.” I smiled and followed him down the mini hallway.
A few hours later after going through the in-person interviews with a small handful of faculty and staff, I took a lunch break to ponder over the information I gathered thus far. After skimming through everything, there were some comments made by the faculty that alerted me to some areas of concern that I wanted to address down the road, but I still needed to sit in on some of the classes. I also had a few miscellaneous things to go over to decipher if it was a personal belief that they had or it was a comment they made with objectivity.
“…and here we are at one of our fifth-grade classrooms taught by one of our newest yet more prized faculty members, Ms. Tucker.” Mr. Williams explained. “Come, I would like for you to meet her. She originally from the east coast so I think she would be such a great resource for you to get additional insight from technically an ‘outside observer.’ I’ll introduce you after the bell rings.”
“Sounds great.” It was almost like a movie in slow motion – red heels popped into view as we entered the vibrant classroom draped in the three primary colors. Red, Blue, and Yellow. Inch by inch as I stepped forward into the classroom, the more I realized it was nothing like how I imagined the environment was going to look like.
There she stood, no less than twenty feet away, towering over the children in her 5’4” frame. Even though she was dressed in what I imagined what she typically wore when she taught, she looked good and still took good care of herself physically. By the way, she carried herself, the confident way she spoke and the way the students responded to her, she was good at what she did.
She was also as attractive as she was the last time I saw her, if not more so. She still was the type of woman I was physically attracted to – dark hair, light eyes, average height, and a fit build but so wrong for me at this stage in my life. Although Sean and I always spent our lunchtimes critiquing the women we encountered, I wasn’t looking for someone to settle down with. I did have the occasional fling now, and then but ever since Sean moved to Chicago, I was far too busy to do anything but work these days, but if I ever came across a woman who was looking for nothing but sex with no strings attached, I’d be up for it.
When the bell finally rang, it alerted everyone that it was time for one of the scheduled break times the school gave the students throughout the day, “Alright kids, that’s the bell. Just leave your work on your desk, you’ll be able to continue working on it after the break.” Emily clapped.
Mr. Williams and I waited until all the students exited the classroom before we approached her, “Ms. Tucker, could you come here for a second?”
There was a slight dip in the smile she had for the children when she looked up towards our direction. It was subtle but noticeable. No doubt that it had to do with her deeply set feelings she had about me. I had no doubt that they weren’t good.
“Yes, Mr. Williams?” she asked when she stepped within a few fee
t of us.
“I wanted to introduce you to Patrick Mitchell, he’s here to conduct the observations we’ve spoken about.” he explained before turning toward me, “Patrick, I wanted to introduce you to Ms. Morgan Tucker, one of our most exceptional fifth-grade teachers at John Hill Academy.
“I wouldn’t say exceptional, but I do try.” she smiled.
“Ever so modest.”
“It’s very nice to meet you in person.” I shook her hand, continuing the façade of pretending to not know her. Her hand was soft, feminine yet firm and I held onto it a little longer than necessary. Just like how I remembered. I flipped through a few pages in my portfolio, and I pretended to mull over a few notes before I spoke again, “I wanted to thank you again for taking the time out of your day to interview with me last week and sit in and observe today.”
“You’re quite welcome.” Emily gave a quizzical look at first with one eyebrow raised before she finally caught on.
She probably thought I was still a stoic bastard, she called me that once. She said I didn’t seem like I had a compassionate bone in my body, but that was far from the truth. If only she knew.
“Mr. Williams, I think I’ll just merely observe Ms. Tucker for a couple of hours today while I jot a few notes down. Then we can move on to one more classroom and then continue tomorrow. Is that alright with you?”
“That’s perfectly fine, do whatever you have to do. If there’s anything you need, feel free and let us know. Right, Ms. Tucker?” he eyed her with a fake plastered grin for my benefit.
“Oh, yes. It’s perfectly fine with me. Anything you need or need to know, just ask.” she agreed.
“Okay, great. I guess we can start when the children return. When they do, please go ahead and proceed with your morning as you normally would. I’ll just out of your way and sit here in the back.”
“Sounds easy enough, I’ll just go back and continue reviewing the rest of today’s lesson until they return.”
One Little Lie_An Enemies to Lovers, Second Chance Romance Page 2