by Kira Blakely
“What’s really going on?” I asked.
A commotion erupted outside the office. Voices, far too loud for the school, and Principal Henrietta rose from her seat. “What on earth?”
“What’s going on?” Jenny folded her arms under her breasts, plumping them together at the opening of her less-than-modest blouse. “What’s going on is that you’re trying to trick my husband. To trap him. You’re making out like he’s the one who got you pregnant because you want his money.”
“What?!” I yelped.
The door to the office crashed inward, and Houston Pope loomed, filling the space from jamb to jamb, dressed in his favorite dark blue jeans, which clung to his thighs, his shoulders muscular beneath his plain white tee. His steely gaze traveled from Henrietta to me, then to Jenny and back again.
“What the fuck is going on?” he growled.
“What is the meaning of this? Georgina?!” Henrietta screeched for the receptionist.
“I couldn’t stop him, Principal, I’m sorry.” She was muffled behind Houston’s frame. “I tried.”
I slouched and dropped the water bottle. It splashed over Henrietta’s desk, and she grabbed her papers and lifted them.
The man I’d fallen for, yeah, that’d truly happened. The one I’d technically lied to, stepped into the room and slammed the door shut behind himself. “Somebody better start talking now,” Houston said.
Chapter 26
Houston
“Now,” I repeated.
The two women stared at me like I was a fox in the fucking hen house. Charlie had gone deathly pale and spilled water all over the desk. What had they done to her? What had they said?
“Who are you?” the woman behind the desk asked, and recognition blinded me. She was the one. The hawk-looking lady I’d seen outside the Clear Springs Bar with none other than Greg the sleaze.
“Who am I?” I leveled her with a mirthless grin. “Who the fuck are you?” I asked.
“I am the principal of this establishment, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave or I’ll call the police and have you removed.” She sniffed.
“Don’t entertain this, Henrietta,” the other woman put in.
Oh, wow, she was uppity as fuck now, in the light of day. But when she’d had her hand plastered on Greg’s micro-dick, she hadn’t seemed as powerful. “No,” I replied, simply. “You’re Henrietta.” I nodded to the woman sitting in the chair next to Charlie’s somewhat removed, her platinum-blond hair trashy as the gold necklace around her neck. “And you must be Jenny Harrington. Ain’t that a hoot?”
“Houston,” Charlie said, softly. “This isn’t a good time. We’re in a meeting.”
“Jenny is Greg’s wife, yeah?” I asked and the grin didn’t drop. “And Henrietta is his mistress. This is a fucking party.”
“What?” Jenny snorted. “What are you talking about?”
Henrietta’s lips drew into a thin line.
“She knows exactly what I’m talking about,” I said and nodded to the principal, the hypocrite-in-chief who’d threatened Charlie for something she hadn’t done. Was this why? She’d fucked the harasser. Jesus, this was a mess.
“No, I don’t,” Henrietta said. “Leave.”
“What is this? Greg?” The blonde stared at the principal, and a moment of clarity shot across her face.
This wasn’t the first time she’d been betrayed. A woman with a husband like that, she was probably used to this shit. But she’d stayed all along, and if that was the case, would she accept that her husband was scum? No, she wouldn’t.
“There’s nothing going on,” Henrietta said, stiffly, and brushed off the front of her beige pantsuit. Bland as fuck.
Her affair with the scumbag wasn’t my concern. Charlie was. Charlie and this entire fuckfest.
“You’d throw stones at her when you’re doing worse,” I said and eyed the principal. “You’ll accuse her of something she hasn’t done while you do worse.” I moved across the space, past Charlie’s chair where she sat stationary, staring directly ahead, as if she’d checked the fuck out of this hotel of horror.
I halted directly in front of Henrietta’s desk. ‘I’ll tell you something, if you fire her on some bullshit charge, I will make your life a living hell.”
“Excuse me?” Henrietta squeaked. The pictures on the walls, drawn by kids, didn’t suit the atmosphere in the office. They were warm, and this was cold.
Icy mock professionalism.
I’d rip the roof off this building. Tear it apart if I had to.
“You heard me,” I replied, coldly. “If you have Charlie dismissed, I’ll make your life a living hell. I’ll hire a lawyer, and I’ll blow this room wide open. I’ll make sure everyone in Daisy Oaks knows the real you.” I nodded to Jenny. “And I’ll sue you for defamation of character.”
Charlie ran her fingers through her angel hair, but she still didn’t meet my gaze. She didn’t so much as shift in my direction.
Finally, the silence broke. Mrs. Harrington laughed. She actually fucking laughed.
“I see what’s happening here,” she said and checked her claw-like nails. “This is another man who’s fallen for Charlotte’s charms. Another one of an entire list. Don’t feel alone, sir, we’re here to confront her about that very thing.”
I looked at her as if she’d grown another head because she may as well have.
A list? Of men? Not Charlie. Not a god damn chance.
“You look confused,” Jenny said and shot Henrietta a look, one filled with the promise of rage. “Tell him about the petition.”
Henrietta seized on what she’d said and lifted a page. The principal scanned it, opened her mouth, then hesitated and lowered the sheet again. “This is a closed conversation. It’s between my employee and—”
“It’s too late for that,” Jenny replied. “He barged in here demanding answers. He’s also been roped in by Charlotte, and I’d say he deserves the truth, as much as we all do. This woman is a manipulator. She’ll lie and cheat and sleep her way to the top. We won’t let her get away with it.” Her gaze shone with an almost religious fervor.
I didn’t trust a word from her mouth.
Charlie shook her head. “No,” she said. “Whatever they say is a lie, Houston. I haven’t slept with anyone. I haven’t behaved inappropriately.” She gained strength and met Jenny’s anger with her own. “I would never do any of those things. It was your husband who cornered me and tried to take advantage of me. He harassed me.”
“Liar,” Jenny spat. “Liar!”
“It’s true.” Charlie’s fisted handfuls of her dress.
“Absolute garbage. I saw you trying to seduce him with my own eyes. Drop the act, Charlotte, you can’t deny that you’re planning on trapping my husband. That you’re pregnant with some stranger’s child and—”
“Stop!” Charlie scrambled to her feet and stared at the other woman, breathing hard.
Pregnant? What the fuck? She couldn’t be pregnant, not if she’d taken the Plan B I’d given her yesterday. This was all bullshit.
But my anger waned, regardless, and I homed in on my woman. The one I’d come to save from the bullshit at this school and the rumors flying around Summit Springs. The one I’d fallen for, even though the only way I’d dealt with my past anger had been through denying every emotion.
She’d unlocked part of me I’d kept hidden for so fucking long. I couldn’t go back now.
Pregnant? The word association gave me the chills.
It’d been my bread and butter. It’d been my bane.
My joy and anger revolved around that word.
But I couldn’t place this emotion. The rug had been fucking wrenched out from underneath me.
“That petition,” Jenny said and cracked the silence, “is signed by every mother and father of the children in Charlie’s class, vouching that they’ve either seen her break school rules by feeding children the wrong foods, or dressing in the incorrect attire—provocative dresses and the like—or that t
hey’ve witnessed her inappropriate behavior with the fathers.” Triumph glistened in this bitch’s eyes. “She’s done at Daisy Oaks. Done for good.”
“I didn’t do any of that,” Charlie said. It came out weak, almost muted, as if someone had permanently turned down the volume on her voice box.
Henrietta exhaled, a long thin stream of whatever the fuck it was. Disappointment? Relief? “I’m so sorry, Charlie, but these are clear violations of the school rules. We’re going to have to let you go. You were on your final warning.”
“Those are lies.” Charlie repeated but still didn’t look at me. She damn well avoided my gaze.
Jenny squirmed in her chair, dug around in her pocket, and brought out a cell. She tapped on the screen several times, smiling big and not-so-pretty. “Is this a lie?” She tapped one last time.
A woman’s voice echoed from the phone. One vaguely familiar. “Whatever happens will happen, but right now, you’ve got a baby to focus on. I’m going to be here for you, every step of the way, girl. I’ll help you. You and the baby can stay with me until you’ve sorted out a little apartment for yourselves. And I’ll help you tell him about it.”
Fuck it. That was Charlie’s aunt, wasn’t it? Talking about a pregnancy.
“You will?” And that was Charlie. Christ, what the fuck was this? She was pregnant. She was truly pregnant?
“Not physically, but I’ll help you plan how to do it and what to say.” Pammy again.
Charlie wasn’t what they’d called her, no. She hadn’t slept with a whole long list of men, I was fucking sure of it. But the pregnancy?
She wasn’t loose. But she was a liar.
“See?” Jenny asked and stopped the recording. “This is yet another of her infractions. She’s not fit to teach my child or anyone else’s.”
Henrietta sank into her chair and buried her face in her hands as if she was the one under fire. “This is ridiculous.”
“How did you get that recording?” Charlie whispered. “That was a private conversation. It’s illegal to record someone without their consent.”
“Oh, honey, it’s too late to worry about that. What’s done is done. This is direct proof that you’ve been fraternizing and breaking school conduct rules.”
“You’re pregnant?” I asked.
Silence again, an achingly long one. Even Jenny shut up, though she still bore smugness in every cell. She radiated it, for Christ’s sake.
“Charlie.”
She stood, caught the back of the chair, and gave me a clear view of the shame etched into her expression.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
I blanked out everything but her and this moment.
And then it came.
The memory.
We’re letting you go, Houston. The contract’s ended.
What the fuck? It was self-defense. Even the cops ruled it self-defense.
Yes, but it’s one problem too many. What with the accusation from the mother… this hinges on malpractice. You were at the end of your contract anyway.
I deserve better than this. I’ve given this hospital my all.
It’s over, Dr. Pope. Houston. It’s over.
Blurs of shapes, me and my old Chief of Staff, and the horrible realization that, fuck it, I’d lost my job thanks to a liar.
And now, there was one in front of me. One I’d fallen for.
I hadn’t wanted to admit it to myself, but yeah, I’d fallen for Charlie. I’d been willing to sweep her away from Summit Springs and all this crap at a moment’s notice, if she’d only let me.
What about now? Would I still do it given the chance?
Christ, she can’t be pregnant. We were careful. We used a god damn condom. She can’t be!
But I had to be sure. “Charlie. Are you pregnant?”
She nodded once.
“Is it my child?”
Charlie’s knuckles whitened on the back of the chair.
Of course, it was my child. Who else’s could it be? These bitches were full of it, but so was Charlie, apparently.
“Say it,” I commanded. “Tell me the truth.”
She shook her head, once, twice, three times, pressed her hand to her lips.
“Charlie.” I took a step toward her.
She darted for the door, wrenched it open and stifled a gag, then ran out. A slam followed outside.
Jenny sniffed. Henrietta finally raised her head.
“Guess you should think before you fall into bed with someone, huh?” Jenny smirked.
“Tell that to your husband,” I replied, then spun on my heel and marched out of the door, another wave of anger threatening me, concern laced through it. That made me even more furious.
I shouldn’t be concerned about Charlie. She’d fucking lied to me.
Yet, I couldn’t help myself. I sprinted out into the parking lot and stopped dead.
A VW Beetle pulled out of the parking lot and put-putted toward the exit, Charlie’s silhouette clear in the passenger seat.
My woman and now, my baby.
What the fuck could I do about this?
Chapter 27
Charlie
I lay in bed, my arms at my sides, and didn’t sleep. Yeah, this had been pretty much my constant state since I’d come back from the meeting yesterday. First, because I was mortified and ashamed, and second, because the morning sickness had transformed into full-day sickness.
Morning had officially arrived.
It warmed the insides of my curtains and heated the room with its presence, but I didn’t shift. I squeezed my eyes shut and transported myself back to the office.
How could I have done things differently?
Not frozen up for one. Told Jenny where to shove it for another.
But no, once again, that probably wouldn’t have achieved anything. These people were a law unto themselves. They thought they could do what they wanted, when they wanted, and get away with it. And they could.
The Harringtons threw their money or power at every problem that faced them, despite the fact that Greg had cheated on his wife countless times. They were still a team.
I didn’t have a team. Apart from my aunt.
I rolled onto my side, and my cell swayed into view on the bedside table. I hadn’t touched it either since yesterday. I hadn’t had the balls.
You’ll have to speak to him again soon. You’ll have to explain why you didn’t tell him sooner.
But not today, when I felt as if my belly had happened upon a slush of cement and decided whipping it against the lining was 100 percent the best idea ever.
A knock rat-tatted against my bedroom door, and I lay dead still.
“Honey, it’s me,” Pammy said. “Are you hungry? Do you want some tea? Pancakes?”
Warmth rushed through me. At least, I had her—my second mom.
“Not hungry,” I called back.
A beat.
“May I come in?”
I pressed my lips together then released them real slow. “Yeah,” I replied.
The door handle depressed, and Pammy entered, dressed in her nightgown and cotton, summer robe, her fiery locks tied back in a messy bun. “Hey,” she said and offered me a cheery smile. “How are you feeling?”
“Sick,” I replied. “Nauseated. And overall like a bad person.”
“You’re not a bad person. You’re a scared person,” Pammy replied and shuffled over to my bed, a cup of tea sandwiched between her palms. “Fear makes people do things they regret.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m tired of being afraid. It seems that’s all I’ve ever been. Afraid of consequences, and because of it I never take chances or do things that I know I should.” My mouth was so god damn dry. I took the glass of water on the bedside table and slurped some of it down.
“You do take the right kinds of chances, Charlie.” Pammy sat down on the edge of my bed and patted the hump that was my knee beneath my comforter. “And you were in the process of
doing the right thing. You were about to tell Houston the truth.”
“I know, it’s just—it came out in the worst possible way. He probably hates me now, and I—” I certainly didn’t hate him. Exactly the opposite, actually.
“It’s OK.” She patted me again. “Once again, we’ll come up with a plan to make this better.”
“How?” I asked then rolled my eyes at myself. “God, listen to me. I can’t even make decisions for myself. How pathetic.”
“None of that now,” Pammy said. “No bringing yourself down. Right, have you been to the doctor since this has happened?”
“No. I got some over-the-counter pre-natal meds, and I’ve been taking them, but I haven’t done anything like that yet.”
“Then, let’s do that today.” Pammy glugged down the last of her tea and placed the mug on my bedside table. “You get up and get dressed, and we’ll sort that out. All the Houston stuff can wait.”
“I hope he can give me something for nausea because this sucks.” I sighed and tossed back my covers. Pammy was right, of course. I couldn’t stay in here moping all day. I had to get out there and take action.
Sort this out somehow.
I tightened up all over at the mere concept of seeing Houston after that total mess yesterday. Gosh, I didn’t even care that I’d lost my job. Just that he’d found out like that.
“Meet you outside in twenty,” Pammy said.
I dragged myself out of bed and squared my shoulders. Whatever happened today, I’d make the best out of it. After all, I had this opportunity to have a little baby of my own, one I’d cherish and love.
It was weird that it’d happened this way—I’d always envisioned having a child once I’d married and was completely happy with my spouse—but it was still a good thing. My little miracle.
I didn’t want to consider what it’d be like to do this without a job. At least I had Pammy around to help me out until I found something else. The last thing I wanted was to get into a fight with Principal Henrietta and the momsters.
Twenty-five minutes later, we were in the car headed for the doctor’s offices. Summit Springs didn’t have its own dedicated OB/GYN, but the GP had an old sonogram machine for people in my situation.