by Zana Bell
“Sure, no problem. Leave it to me.”
She rang off, just like that. Jake glared at his phone, then gave the wheel a hefty kick. Swearing under his breath, he began punching the number of the AA, which he’d come to learn by heart.
JAKE ARRIVED very late and filthy. As he entered the school hall the din hit him like a physical blow. Teachers were lined in rows the length of the hall, each facing two chairs filled with nodding, questioning parents. Parents also lined the walls, while boys milled about, laughing and pushing each other. There must have been at least five hundred people in the crowded space. It was his worst nightmare. Even walking into school gave him the heebie-jeebies. Uniforms, rules, expectations. He loathed the lot.
Brad materialized at his elbow. “There you are. Told you the van needed an overhaul.”
He was just trying to get a rise and Jake bit back a rejoinder, saying irritably instead, “So where’s the appointment list? Did you reschedule? Where the hell is Paul?”
“Relax, man. Sass has got both lists and is managing fine.”
“What?” Jake spun around, searching the hall, and yes, there she was. How could he have missed her before? There was one ray of sunlight slanting through the high windows and of course Sass was sitting right in its path, her angel-gold hair twisted into a neat bun. She was wearing a straight yellow skirt that stopped just above the knee and a sleeveless, white cotton blouse. If she’d been going for casual, she’d missed it by a mile. He paused, trying to align this vision with her tales of a trailer park upbringing.
“Pretty hot, ay?” said Brad.
Jake shot him a dark look, but knew he couldn’t be upset at Brad for voicing thoughts that would be going through the minds of every man in the room. “Coming?” he asked succinctly.
“No way. The teachers’ll enjoy bitching about me better behind my back.”
Jake struggled up the aisle, squeezing past the chairs. Sass was deep in conversation and didn’t notice him, so he stood back, waiting for the interview to finish. From the label on the teacher’s desk, he learned she was talking to Mrs. Frazer, English. They were so engrossed that they jumped when the timer on the desk went off, making them both laugh.
“It was lovely meeting you, Sass,” said Mrs. Frazer, and Jake just knew Paul had shifted onto her list of favorites.
As Sass rose, she caught sight of him. Her eyes widened as she took in his oil-stained T-shirt, his blackened hands and dusty boots. But all she said was, “I’m glad you’ve made it. Now, you’re here on Paul’s list and here on Brad’s list.” She pushed two papers into his hands, both horribly crumpled from several days’ incarceration in boys’ pockets.
Jake tried to seem gracious. “Thanks for picking this up, but you really didn’t have to.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve only done the one interview. I explained the situation and was going to reschedule, but Mrs. Frazer said she didn’t have anything confidential, so we chatted away. I’ve got some real interesting things to tell you, but you’d better get a move on now or you’ll miss your appointment with Mr. Braithwaite. He’s over there. I checked out the teachers’ seatings right at the beginning.”
“Of course you did.” Then, seeing her expression, Jake said, “Oh, come on. I can see you’re dying to meet him.”
“Can I?” Her eyes were still that incredible blue, even in this dim hall. “I confess I’m curious. Brad hates him and I’d love to see if it’s mutual.”
“I’m sure it is,” said Jake as he fought his way across to the next aisle.
“But who is the more justified?”
Mr. Braithwaite took one look at Jake’s disheveled appearance and turned his attention to Sass. Jake was annoyed at being summarily dismissed, but at the same time he wanted to see Sass deal with conflict. Information that could prove very useful. By the end of the first minute, he was disappointed. She allowed Braithwaite not only to patronize her but also to move swiftly into bully-teacher mode, listing an impressive array of Brad’s misdemeanors. In the second minute she examined the column of Brad’s poor results. In the third minute she extracted a list of coming assignments and tests, and promised it would be displayed prominently in the house. She was rolling over. Despite his disgust in seeing how easily she caved, Jake felt rising optimism for their own chances in negotiating with her.
In the final two minutes Sass engaged Braithwaite in a brief but efficient conversation on the joys of physics and teaching methodologies in New Zealand. It was hard to see exactly how she did it, but by the fifty-ninth second of the final minute the teacher had, seemingly by himself, outlined a range of strategies that could be used to keep highly spirited, intelligent young men engaged in their studies. Sass pushed back her chair and rose, smiling.
“Those sound like mighty fine ways to teach, Mr. Braithwaite. I’m looking forward to Bradley coming home and telling us all about them. With classes like that, I’m sure he’ll give you no trouble at all.”
Having firmly put all the responsibility back onto Braithwaite, she wished him a “nice day now” and departed.
“Well,” said Jake as they pushed their way to the next appointment. “He certainly didn’t see that coming. Neither did I, for that matter.”
Sass smiled. “My mom’s a teacher. I grew up listening to teacherspeak. Come on, time for the next appointment.”
“You’re enjoying this!”
“Sure, it’s fun finding out how the boys are doing.”
Jake could think of a lot better ways of having fun, but Sass was in her element. She had Head Girl written all over her, though her concern for the boys seemed sincere. He’d also realized that it wasn’t calculated charm that people succumbed to when talking to her, it was her real interest in listening to what they had to say. Which made her nicer than he liked to admit, but also a far more dangerous opponent.
The rest of the interviews sped by, blurring into earnest teacher faces, columns of results and a litany of complaints about Brad. Paul had slipped under the radar for the most part, as quiet, well-behaved boys so often did.
The boys were nowhere to be seen when Sass and Jake went outside so, sitting side by side on the school wall, they discussed everything they’d just heard.
“Paul’s doing okay in all his subjects, but he could probably raise his game,” Sass said. “Because he’s a well-behaved kid, he can get away with the minimum of work.”
“He’s passing.”
Sass pursed her lips. “Not good enough. He’s bright. Encourage him and you’ll see his grades rise.”
Jake braced his hands on either side of his body, shifting his butt on the rough wall. “I’ll try, but I have the feeling you’re the one he’d respond to. He’s getting under your skin, isn’t he?”
She laughed. “Yeah, there’s something about him that makes me want to wrap him up and take him home.”
“I’ll have Customs search you before you leave.” Jake became serious. “Brad’s clearly not settling down.”
“He’s also bright, but needs a boot up the ass.”
“I was wondering if school’s the wrong place for him.”
“No way!” Sass glared at Jake. “If he leaves now, what’re his prospects? If he sticks at school for one more year, then he’ll have a lot more options.”
“I’m not sure he’ll be able to stand a year of it.”
“You’ve got to make him stand it.”
“You sound like my father when I wanted to leave school.”
“What will he do instead? Become a surfing champ like you did?”
Jake sighed, exasperated. “God knows he could if he wanted. But he lacks commitment. I don’t get it. There are kids around the country who’d give their eye teeth for a quarter of his talent, yet he refuses to get serious. Such a bloody waste.”
“Talk to him.”
Jake gave a short laugh. “You think I haven’t tried?”
“Yeah, I know that one, all right.” Her voice was surprisingly bitter and she immed
iately bit her lip.
“Your brothers?”
Her nod was barely discernable. She didn’t meet his eyes.
“I’ve been wondering how you ended up a lawyer while they went off the straight and narrow.”
“Long story,” she said in a tone that did not invite further questions.
Jake had not, however, become a champion by giving up. “Also, if there was no money, how did you pay for university? I thought it cost a bomb to go in the States.”
“A scholarship.”
“And?” he persisted in a deceptively friendly tone.
“I did some modeling.”
“Really?” He kept his voice as casual as hers. “What sort of modeling?”
She shrugged. “This and that.”
“What, like fashion shows?”
“No, nothing in that league.” She looked down the street. “What time is it, anyway? Those boys are late.”
He couldn’t believe she’d try such a lame tactic.
“Swimsuits?”
She threw him an oh-come-on look, but her cheeks turned faintly pink.
“Life drawing classes?” She shook her head, but there was definitely a wariness in her eyes and he feigned shock. “Oh my God, not—not Playboy?”
“No!” she said, outraged. “I did underwear for Wal-Mart catalogs, okay?” Then she closed her eyes. Jake sat back and grinned. Yes.
Sass shook her head. “Jeez, I’ve never told anyone before.”
He laughed. “What’s the big deal? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Quite the contrary.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right. And what would people say if they knew?” She leaned toward him, her face deadly serious, and waved an admonishing finger under his nose. “If you breathe one word of this…”
She was only mock threatening him, but Jake was thrown by the entreaty he heard beneath it. Suddenly he saw things from her point of view. If Whangarimu learned of this, her credibility might take a hit. How could a woman look tough, defiant, proud and vulnerable all at the same time? His sense of triumph evaporated and now it was his turn to feel outraged. Did she honestly think he was the same sort of lowlife as that bastard Branston?
“Of course I won’t tell,” he said, aggrieved.
She stared at him, then nodded. “Thanks.”
Still ruffled, he was not about to let her off that easily. “Yeah, well, my silence has to be bought.” She leaned back and arched an eyebrow. “I demand a peek at a couple of said catalogs.”
“Over my dead body.” But she was smiling now, her real smile. He smiled back and at that moment he could have sworn something between them shifted. But before Jake could put a name to it, Sass pointed. “Hey, look, here come the boys.”
Brad and Paul were loping toward them. Just as well, he told himself as he stood and tried to dismiss the peculiar mix of emotions coursing through his system. Whatever the hell had just happened, she was still the enemy.
CHAPTER NINE
THERE WERE A FEW HOURS
until the meeting that night and as Sass cooked dinner, she reviewed the afternoon. She’d enjoyed becoming involved with the boys, and the chat with Jake had been great, right up until she’d opened her big mouth. But instead of seizing this advantage, he’d seemed offended she might think he’d use it against her. All the way home they’d joked with the boys, with each other, using humor to bury whatever had passed between them. Jake was clearly as keen as she was to put it behind them.
Sass served dinner early and enjoyed the way the boys devoured it. It felt good, surprisingly good, to feel part of their camaraderie. She was reminded of the times when her mom got her act straight and they’d set up the trestle table and sit down outside, under the stars of the wide Texan skies, and behave just like a regular family. There hadn’t been nearly enough occasions like that, though.
At the end of the meal the boys leaped up, and while the twins cleared the table, Paul and Brad went into the kitchen, squabbling over who would stack the dishwasher and who would wash the pans. Jake watched them go.
“Okay, what sorcery are you using this time?”
“Magic isn’t required. It’s all very well being too cool for rules, Jake, but what you are witnessing are routines in action. While we were making pancakes this morning, we discussed tasks and lines of responsibility. Each boy had to sign up for something or cook his own meals. You should have done that the minute they walked into the house. No wonder they sit around waiting for you to baby them.”
Jake leaned back, folding his arms over his chest. It made his T-shirt strain across the shoulders. Even in small gestures he exuded a sense of harnessed power. “I’ve never seen myself as a nursemaid!”
“You don’t know how to see yourself, that’s your problem. You guys entered into this situation without sorting out the fine print. No wonder things were getting out of control.” But before he could start mustering arguments, she fixed him with her best courtroom stare and tapped the table. “The time has come, Jake Finlayson, for you to honor our deal.”
He lost his cocky stance and shifted his eyes as if trying to find the way out of a hole. “What deal?”
“Cut the crap. I want the book. I need to find out more about these birds you’re hell-bent on saving.”
She watched the tide of red rising up his neck. He put on a convincing macho act, but this guy definitely had his weaknesses. Problem was, instead of feeling scornful, Sass was dismayed to find it kind of cute. Then his eyes narrowed. He was never down for long.
“Yeah, well, deal’s a deal, I guess.” He uncoiled from his chair. “Besides, it probably wouldn’t hurt you to learn something about the birds you are so keen to destroy.”
“Oh, good grief.” She rolled her eyes, but he’d already left the room. Jake talked as if she were some kind of ax murderer, but Kurt had already told her they were only talking seven birds here. How much of a deal could this guy make of that?
Jake emerged a few minutes later with a bird’s nest of mismatched papers sticking out at different angles.
“Jeez, what happened? Cyclone hit your room?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t figured out a filing system yet.”
Sass shuffled through the pile. “But you haven’t numbered the pages. Some haven’t even been typed up. How do you know what’s what?”
“Look, I didn’t want to show you the bloody thing in the first place.”
She’d hit a nerve. “Sorry, you’re right. You sort it out. I’ll just shut up and read.”
He was only slightly mollified. “Well, these are the first three chapters I showed to the publisher, and they accepted the book on them.”
These pages were formatted, but dog-eared and creased. She forbore making comments, however, as she banged the pile into shape on the table before she began reading. The first paragraph shocked a small, involuntary gasp out of her. Jake glanced up from the papers he was sorting.
Sass stared at the page in front of her. “Are these figures right? It says here, ‘There are only between thirty-five and forty fairy terns left in the world.’”
“Yeah, that’s right, give or take a few each season. What? Didn’t Branston spell that out to you?”
“So when we talk about seven birds…” said Sass slowly.
“That’s right. We’re talking about your company destroying almost twenty percent, just like that.”
“Oh, come on, it’s not quite like that.” He cocked his head skeptically. Needled, she added, “Just let me read, okay?”
For the next ten minutes, Sass read in silence. The facts were bleak, far bleaker than that slimeball had presented to The Boys. This changed things, but she couldn’t let Jake know that until she’d had time to properly think it through. She decided, as she read, to focus their discussions on him and his writing. That would keep the guy off-kilter.
At the end, she put the papers down and leaned back in her chair. “So far, so good. I can see why the publisher accepted the book. It’s factual and info
rmative.”
“You didn’t like it.”
She bit her lip. “I’m not your target audience, okay? Nothing personal, but a bird book would be just about my last choice, normally. However, I can see you know your stuff, and that’s what counts. So what’s your problem with finishing?”
Jake couldn’t meet her eyes. “Things changed.”
“Changed how?”
“Stylistically,” he muttered, shoving the next wad of papers at her. “You’ll see. I haven’t had a chance to type these pages up yet.”
It took her a few minutes to get used to the sprawling handwriting—a handwriting analyst would have a field day with the strong upward and downward strokes, the looping fluidity—but none of that counted by the end of the second page. In this chapter, Jake was recording the hatching of two chicks. It began with the same dry factual tone as the previous chapter, but as he sought words to describe their fragility, the miracle of their hatching his writing began to shift. Words began to pour forth, filling page after page, as he described their development on an almost daily basis.
Then another pair of terns had two chicks hatch. Eventually, eight baby terns in all, but not just birds, characters in their own right. Jake had an excellent eye for detail, yet it was more than that. Underneath the narrative ran a current of affectionate humor that lifted the pages out of ornithological manuals and into popular nonfiction. It was lucky for her company, she thought, that it wouldn’t be published before the resort went in.
Then came the part where one of the chicks disappeared, taken by a stoat. Jake trapped and killed the predator the following day, but his pain at being too late to save the baby came through clearly. The words blurred in front of her and without thinking Sass said, “Jake, this is brilliant!”
While she’d been reading, he’d been sorting papers, though she’d been aware of him glancing in her direction from time to time.
“You like it?” As always, he sounded confident, but she saw the insecurity in his eyes.