by Kira Blakely
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Charlie whispered. A thin sheen of sweat coated her upper lip. She gulped, then swung toward my mother. “Mrs. Pope, thank you for the invitation, but I—need to go. I think the coffee was too much for me. I’ve been feeling a little sick lately.” She gulped a second time. “Thanks for everything.”
Charlie didn’t look at me, now, not a single wink of eye contact. She barreled past my mother, then past me, and darted out into the hall. I didn’t follow her.
The strangeness of this situation was too much for me.
The door slapped shut a second later, and the noise rang along the marble floor in the entryway.
“That was rude, Houston,” Mom hissed. “You didn’t even say hello to her. You didn’t do anything but yell and act like a total mule.”
“Mom,” I growled. “I came here because you were ill, and you spring her on me like—fuck, I don’t know, like a fucking jack in the box.” One with soft hair and unbelievable curves. “What did you expect? A thank you? Thank you so much, Mom, for dragging me back to this one-horse fucking town. I’m fucked, now.”
“Stop it,” she said. “You’re overreacting, Houston. This isn’t the end of the world. You can’t tell me you were loving life in Alaska. Each time we spoke, you sounded unhappier than the last.”
I held up a hand. Mom silenced instantly.
“I don’t want to get into this with you,” I said, as evenly as possible. And it was true. I respected her. She was my mother, even if she had fucking infuriated me. “I’m not sleeping in this house tonight.”
“Please, Huey, wait a second. Listen to me,” she said and scuffled across the carpet. She whacked into the coffee table again, and this time, one of the cups tipped over and splashed coffee into the tray. “This is a good thing. You’re back here in Summit Springs. You can work here. Women have babies here, too, you know.”
“Summit Springs,” I snorted. “No. This is nowhere, Mom. I’m not even happy that you live here, and I’m not going to sentence myself to this hell hole.” I spun on my heel and walked for the door, gut burning.
“Huey, you’re making a mistake,” she called after me. “You could have a good future here.”
I hurried upstairs to my old room, ignoring the anatomical poster on the wall, right next to my very first degree, which I’d hung up proudly in the only room I’d called home. It’d never fit in any of my apartments.
Those places had all been transient, and this mansion had seemed my whole world at the time. Fuck it, I’d take that with me, too.
This mansion wasn’t a home. It was a trap.
I collected my shit, ripped the framed degree—the first of many—off the wall and tucked that into my bag. I zipped up, then headed out, back down the stairs, across the hall, now empty apart from a lurking Butler in one corner, eyeing me from beside a Ming vase.
I opened the front door and let myself out into the summer night. “Fuck,” I grunted.
The chauffer had left, most likely to ferry Charlie back to her little room in her little cottage, and I was stuck here, fucking fuming with nothing to distract me but a gorgeous view and Jason’s words.
I expected more from you, Pope. I stuck my neck out for you. I don’t know what to say, man. Best of luck. I’m out.
“I’m out,” I said, out loud.
That was it. One friend lost, and no job calling to me. I’d have to cast my net wide, contact people I hadn’t spoken to in years to find another opportunity like the one Jase had presented me with. The one I’d fucked up.
I knuckled my forehead then walked down the stairs and into the night.
My frustration seeped out and was replaced by another emotion—one I didn’t care to identify, but which I associated with Charlie.
Charlie Stinson, as angelic as ever, in her summer dress with her eyes so wide and blue, her hands pressed to her stomach.
Was she the reason my mother had called me back? Could it be that she’d wanted to see me again this desperately?
“Fuck it, I’m arrogant,” I grunted and shouldered my bag. But it was plausible.
My mom had hatched these schemes before, and she’d sprung potential “suitors” on me like I was a princess at a royal fucking ball. It would’ve emasculated me if I’d actually given a shit, but I didn’t.
Still, I’d have to discuss this with Miss Stinson. I’d have to make it clear to her that I was not, and never would be, interested in any sort of relationship.
I just wasn’t the settling down type of guy.
Chapter 17
Charlie
I sat on the plastic chair outside Principal Henrietta’s office like I was the one who’d interrupted a class or made another kid cry. I played with the frayed knee of my jeans and focused on the clock on the wall opposite.
Another week had passed since the total screw-up that’d been Clarissa’s dinner party, and I’d already ignored three calls from the socialite. The other call that’d come through, however, I’d answered.
Principal Henrietta had called me in to discuss my future at Daisy Oaks.
This was Jenny’s doing. And Greg’s.
I should’ve gone to the cops. I should’ve told them, filed a complaint or something. But, no, Greg would’ve squashed it, and that would’ve made me look way worse. To everyone in Summit Springs.
To Houston Pope, too.
Oh god, he was back. He was back!
I’d nearly thrown up all over him, because the universe, in all its friggin’ humor, had decided to give me my first tour of morning – ha, night – sickness about three minutes after he’d appeared in the living room and announced that he’d lost his job.
Was he still in Summit Springs? Had he left?
The more I thought about it, the worse it got.
He’d come back, and Clarissa had wanted me to tell him then and there that I was pregnant. I’d damn well frozen up, because, holy shit, how was I supposed to process his very real presence thrust upon me like that?
I inhaled through my nose, counted to three, then exhaled through my mouth.
Easy yoga breathing trick, Pammy called it.
Kids shrieked and laughed in the courtyard, just a couple feet from the double doors that let into the entry hall. They were happy, at least. Enjoying their holiday program, so that their mommies could get manicures and their daddies could screw the dog walkers.
Ugh, when did I become this cynical? I’m not this person. I’m supposed to be the happy one.
But I’d been the happy one for so damn long. I’d forced a smile each time Greg had greeted me, and each time Principal Henrietta had called me into her office to discuss my inappropriate—ha, ha, whatever—attire. And I’d spent the past few years smiling to give my family strength, to help my father through his worst times.
Maybe it was time for me to be a little cynical and embrace that.
Or maybe it was just the damn hormones.
The principal’s door swung inward and Henrietta appeared, hawkish in a navy-blue pantsuit. Her eyes glittered above that beak of a nose.
“Miss Stinson,” she said and beckoned. “Into my office, please.”
It was phrased politely, but the snarl in her tone said it was anything but. I rose from the plastic chair, winced when the backs of my knees stuck to it, and followed her into her office.
I halted just inside it.
Apparently, this wasn’t a private meeting.
Jenny Harrington sat in front of the desk. Thankfully, her husband wasn’t present.
I balled up my fists and released them slowly, shook out my fingers. Remain calm. Everything’s going to be fine. Tell the truth.
“Take a seat, Miss Stinson,” Henrietta said, her hand on the doorknob. Once again, it wasn’t a welcoming tone.
I took the seat beside Jenny’s and didn’t look her in the eye. I wasn’t ashamed of anything I’d done, but facing her now would’ve likely pressed all the wrong buttons both for her and for me.
Henrietta click-clacked across the wooden floorboards and took a seat at her rosewood desk. She ran her fingers along its edge, then created a steeple under her chin. “Well, here we are.”
“Here we are,” Jenny echoed. Totally malicious. God, her gaze burned a hole in the side of my face, practically melted the flesh off my cheeks.
I didn’t say a word.
The silence grew in the room, spread across the desk and past the principal. It touched the framed kids’ pictures on the walls, the classroom photos, and the drawn art. It pressed against the window, which looked out on the courtyard, so Henrietta would always have her view of the playground and the teachers within in.
The kids, too, but the teachers most of all. She liked her school to run like a well-oiled machine.
Apparently, I was the squeaky wheel.
“Do you know why I’ve called you here today, Charlotte?” Henrietta asked.
I opened my mouth.
“She definitely knows why she’s here, Principal,” Jenny said, before I could get a word out. “She knows exactly what she’s done to warrant this little meeting.”
Henrietta raised a palm to still Mrs. Harrington. “Please, let me finish. Do you understand the consequences of your actions, Miss Stinson?”
I took hold of the sides of my jeans and squeezed the fabric tight. “What actions, Principal Henrietta?”
Jenny snorted, and Henrietta exchanged a glance with her, one that was laden with irritation. She flicked it right back to me. “You’re surely aware of the complaint that has been lodged against you. I believe there was an incident, this past Friday.”
“An incident,” I replied and squished the jean fibers again. “Yeah, you could say that.” Finally, I turned my head and caught Jenny’s ire.
She flicked her purple locks and pursed her lips at me. The woman despised me. She had since the beginning. I should’ve seen this coming way back in the past.
I should’ve… what? There wasn’t anything I could’ve done that would have prevented this. The minute Jenny and the other monster mommies had laid eyes on me, it’d been over. They wanted me out. And they’d do anything to make it happen.
“So, you admit that you were caught fraternizing with one of the parents at this school?” Henrietta asked.
“They weren’t fraternizing,” Jenny replied. “She seduced my husband. She tricked him into kissing her.”
“We didn’t kiss,” I said. “And I would never fraternize with any parent. I never have. I’m a professional.” This woman belonged on another planet. Jenny was unhinged. She needed friggin’ therapy or something.
“Are you calling me a liar?” Jenny snapped. “Are you saying I fabricated this entire story and wasted my time on a Monday morning?”
“No, I’m saying—”
“You’re lucky my husband isn’t here today. You’re lucky he has work to attend to, or this would be even worse for you. He’s furious, too. He sees through all your charms and lies, just like the rest of us do,” Jenny continued.
Henrietta’s palm was up again, but Mrs. Harrington was on a roll. She wouldn’t stop now, not for her, not even for the Queen of England.
“We knew exactly what type of person you were the minute you arrived at Daisy Oaks.” Jenny swiveled her head and speared the Principal with her gaze, instead. “I warned you about her, Henrietta. I told you that she wouldn’t fit in here and you went ahead anyway, and now this has happened. You should be ashamed. This entire school is—”
“That’s enough, Mrs. Harrington,” Henrietta said. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let Charlie explain herself.”
“Why? Why should she get a chance?”
“What is this, a trial?” I asked, at last, but under my breath.
“Charlie, do you have anything to say?” Henrietta asked.
Would it make a damn difference? “I didn’t seduce anyone. I have no interest in Greg Harrington and never have.”
Jenny scoffed but kept her peace this time.
“Greg has approached me twice,” I said and raised my chin. Backbone, Charlie. Stand up for yourself. “On both occasions, he cornered me after hours in my classroom and tried to press himself against me. He threatened me and told me that if I told anyone, he’d get me fired. Apparently, he’s following through on the threat. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.” I finished and only with a couple shaky warbles of my voice. Pretty damn good, given the circumstances.
“Lies,” Jenny said. “All lies.”
But Henrietta didn’t agree with her. She leaned forward in her chair and focused entirely on me, her gaze flicked back and forth, measuring me up. “Let’s get this straight. You’re accusing Greg Harrington of harassment?”
“Yes,” I said. “He cornered me and made me feel uncomfortable.”
“Principal, it’s obvious this is just a last-ditch attempt to cling to her position at Daisy Oaks.” Jenny sniffed. “It’s not right. She’s a manipulator. She’s—”
“That’s enough, Mrs. Harrington,” Henrietta said. “Last I checked, I was the principal of this school, and not you.”
Jenny pressed her lips into a thin line and sat back, arms folded across her chest.
I waited, held my breath.
If Henrietta let me go…
“Charlotte,” the principal said, “we have a very strict policy about fraternizing with parents of children who attend this school, and an even stricter one regarding sexual harassment. Have you reported the incident to the police?”
I bit my lip. Shit, I should’ve gone right away. I should’ve, but I’d been convinced that it wouldn’t have made a difference. Once again, I’d let fear rule me. “No,” I said. “Not yet.”
“Ha, see? If anything had actually happened, if my husband had done what she’s accusing him of, she would have gone to the cops.” Jenny squished forward again. “She’s a liar.”
Henrietta pressed two fingers to the center of her forehead—the only indication that she might be close to losing her cool. She dropped them again. “Mrs. Harrington, I need a moment alone with my employee. Kindly wait out in the hall.”
Jenny huffed and puffed, but she rose from her seat. She swept past the back of my chair, bathing me in too much perfume, and clicked the door open. She shut it behind her with a snap.
Silence, and then, Henrietta sighed. “Charlie, this is serious. Either way, this is incredibly serious.”
“I would never touch a married man. I would never do anything to jeopardize my position at Daisy Oaks,” I said. She had to believe me. I’d done everything by the book this year. I couldn’t afford to lose this job, now, not with the baby on the way and all the complications in between.
“Regardless, I have a delicate situation to deal with. You’ve been accused of fraternization and have subsequently accused Mr. Harrington of sexual harassment. There have been no other reports of this type of behavior from the other teachers.”
I bristled.
“However, I’m unwilling to lose an educator, one who is loved by the children in her class.”
This was it.
“Usually, I have a three-warning policy at this school. If you break the rules, you have three chances to prove that you’re worthy of continuing work here. However, due to the severity of the incident, and the potential for it affecting Timothy in your class, I’m going to give you your final warning today.” Henrietta exhaled. “One more slip-up, Charlotte, and you’re going to leave Daisy Oaks for good.”
She hadn’t fired me. But she hadn’t believed me, either. If I’d gone to the cops first, would it have made a difference? Once again, it seemed simply a case of my word against Greg’s, and his carried more weight.
“Do you understand what I’m saying, Charlotte? This is your last opportunity to prove yourself.”
“I understand, Principal Henrietta,” I said. “I—uh, I don’t feel comfortable seeing Greg, again, though. I know that I won’t be teaching until the last few weeks of the holiday program, but I feel
that seeing Mr. Harrington won’t be beneficial for either of us.”
“I agree,” Henrietta said and rose. “I’ll speak with Jenny about it. She’ll have to be the one who fetches Tim from school from now on.”
I sighed and got up, too. That was better than the alternative, but I’d still have to deal with Jenny’s hate glares every afternoon. “Thank you,” I said.
“That’s all for now,” she said. “You may leave. Please ask Jenny to come in once you do.”
I nodded and walked to the door, the leaden weight in my stomach dragging at my friggin’ soul. This wasn’t how things should’ve gone. Once again, I’d hesitated, let my fear govern my actions, and this was the result.
I let myself into the hall and came face to face with Jenny.
She stared me down, her purple locks drab for once. “You’re not crying,” she said.
“Principal Henrietta wants to see you,” I replied. Not crying? This woman was, quite frankly, a dick.
Jenny moved closer, narrowed her eyes at me. “You think you’re all that. But you’re not. You’re nothing. Nothing compared to me or any of the other mothers at this school. Don’t you dare forget that.”
I squeezed past her, my teeth jammed together to keep myself from saying something I would certainly regret.
Whatever chip Jenny had on her shoulder shouldn’t be my problem. Pity she’d made it that way.
One more foot “out of line,” one more argument or disagreement with Jenny, and I’d be out of Daisy Oaks and a job, with a baby in my belly and very few prospects. I couldn’t go home to my mom and dad—they had enough to deal with, financially and otherwise.
I couldn’t expect Pammy to put up with a baby under her roof.
I pushed out into the parking lot.
The straws piled on my back, and I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the tears back.
They came anyway.
“Charlie?”
Chapter 18
Houston
Tears streamed down Charlie’s cheeks, glistened beneath the morning sunlight, which captured her beauty, as well. The parking lot fucking dissolved around me, the expensive cars, the demarcations and the smooth tar, even the brick face of the damn building—it all became a blur.