by Dena Blake
“Fifteen more minutes and I’ll be up.” Abby blew on her hot chocolate and then took a small sip. “I promise.”
“Okay. If not, I’m coming back down to get you.” Jillian stopped at the doorway, took a sip of her cocoa, and became lost in the past. She remembered the days when she and Amelia used to stay up late and do their homework at the table in the very same spot.
“Are you okay, Aunt JJ?” The concern in Abby’s voice was jarring.
Jillian gave her a soft smile. “I’m fine. Just thinking how nice it is that Logan is helping you.” She turned and went back upstairs.
Since she couldn’t sleep, Jillian booted up her computer and started checking email. First in line, an email from her assistant highlighting her fan mail for the week. When she’d become a celebrity, Jillian had made a practice of looking at all her fan mail. Now that the show had been on for several seasons, she had gobs of it. People asking for advice. People telling her stories of their life. Invasive people asking her for personal information that was strictly out of bounds. Many people who didn’t know her and, for some reason, wanted to be her best friend. Now there was way too much email for her to keep up. She’d hired an assistant to handle the email as well as her social media. She didn’t answer much correspondence personally, but usually a few emails each week garnered her special attention.
Next, she found one from her best friend and personal therapist, Marcus, indicating all was well on the East Coast, except that he’d gone on another failed first date and would require some serious talk time soon. When the nightmares had become too much to handle, Jillian had been referred to Marcus by a mutual friend. Somewhere along the line, their doctor-patient relationship had changed into a personal friendship, and over the past ten years, he’d become her best friend and confidant and vice versa. They clicked so well they probably would’ve been soul mates if either one of them had developed any romantic feelings for the other. It was clear from the start that neither of them was interested in each other romantically or, for that matter, anyone of the opposite sex. It just wasn’t in the cards for them, so best friends they remained. She would make a point to call him soon and let him know who she’d run into here in town.
Jillian’s stomach tightened at the next email, from Kelly, her ex-girlfriend. She’d discovered Jillian had left town without telling her. Jillian had hoped Kelly wouldn’t come back after this last breakup. She’d done everything she could to be the woman Kelly didn’t want, to make it Kelly’s choice to end the relationship. Which she’d done a few weeks ago, very vocally in front of a number of Jillian’s friends at a social event. Nevertheless, it seemed Kelly wasn’t done with her yet.
Hey, love,
I went by your apartment today to make up, but you weren’t there. Looks like you went on assignment somewhere. Did I miss the communication? No harm done. Just let me know where you’re at, and I’ll come as soon as I can. I think we can forget about that silly argument we had at that dinner party and get our life back on course, don’t you?
Your one and only,
Kelly
Her skin prickled, and she slapped the computer closed. Smiling back at Kelly had been one of the biggest mistakes of Jillian’s life. She dumped the contents of her purse out on the bed, found her sleeping pills, and washed one down with a gulp of cocoa.
Chapter Five
Jillian yanked open the heavy metal door of the high school and let it clang shut behind her. The old-book smell filled her nose, and she suddenly felt inadequate. When she was a teenager, Jillian had cursed every day she’d walked these halls. She’d never dreamed she would end up working here someday, even undercover. However, taking college courses at night had been useful in her career. She’d always dreamed of being a reporter, but her parents had drilled into her head that she had to have something to fall back on if that didn’t work out. A minor in education wasn’t a big cushion, but it would help her now. God only knew she had dreams, but she’d never thought it would work out as well as it had.
She stopped for a moment, looking at her reflection in the glass trophy case. Dressed in a pair of black slacks and white blouse, she scrunched her newly dyed blond, shoulder-length hair with her fingers and blinked to re-wet her brown-colored contacts. She didn’t like doing it, but she had to change the color of her hair and eyes to safeguard her anonymity. Her natural crystalline blue eyes, chestnut hair, and makeup were trademarks of Jillian McIntyre, super-journalist. For now, she needed to be plain old JJ Davis, super-aunt.
She shouldn’t have any trouble fitting in here. This morning she’d made sure to wear low heels and a minimal amount of makeup. She didn’t want to draw any extra attention to herself.
“Come on, Aunt JJ. I don’t want to be too late.”
“Coming.” She rounded the corner and stood at the counter for a few minutes while the three women plucked at their computer keyboards, effectively ignoring both her and Abby.
“Hi. I’m JJ Davis,” she said, trying to coax the closest older woman to look up. “My niece, Abby, is a new student.”
She glanced up over the top of her reading glasses. “You have to register her at the administration building.”
“We’ve already been there.” She handed the enrollment sheet across the counter. She’d preregistered Abby before they arrived but had to drop off a few required documents.
The woman got up and rounded the counter. “You’ve already missed first hour, but you’ve got English second. Come with me.” She motioned to Abby. “I’ll show you where it is.”
Jillian waited until the woman came back. “I’m also here about the counseling position.”
“You have to apply for that at the administration building.”
“As I said before, I’ve already been to the administration building this morning. They sent me over here.”
“Have a seat,” she said, sliding back into the chair behind her desk. After slipping her headset into her ear, the woman flipped the microphone around to her lips. “I’ll see if Mrs. Patterson is available.” She began to dial. “What was your name again?”
“JJ Davis.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a half-sheet of paper. “The superintendent said to give you this.”
A young woman came into the office and took the paper from her hand. “I got this, Carolyn.” She stuck out her hand. “Hi. I’m Darcy Kennedy.”
“JJ,” she said, shaking Darcy’s hand.
Darcy looked at the slip of paper. “Follow me,” she said, leading her behind the counter to an office down the hall. The office was empty, but the nameplate on the desk read Vickie Patterson, Principal. The same as it had fifteen years ago. “Sorry about Carolyn. She’s kind of cranky. I think she’s been dealing with teenagers for too long.” She motioned to the chair in front of the desk. “Go ahead and have a seat. It might be a few minutes. She’s dealing with a disciplinary action right now.” She turned to go and then glanced back. “Can I get you something to drink, JJ?” She flashed her a friendly smile.
“No thanks. I’m good,” Jillian said, returning her smile and noting that she remembered her name.
Jillian waited for at least twenty minutes before she went out into the hallway to go back to the front desk. She stopped at the next office when she noticed it was no longer empty. Now a man, a woman she thought to be Vickie Patterson, and Blake’s son, David, were in the office. They seemed to be having a one-sided discussion, and David was getting the brunt of it.
All she could catch was something about pictures he’d drawn before someone behind her coughed.
“Can I help you with something?”
She turned to find a balding man of average height standing behind her, wearing khaki pants and a polo shirt that seemed to be one size too small. She gathered he did that on purpose to advertise his physique. He was probably the gym teacher or one of the coaches.
“I’m here to see Mrs. Patterson, and I’ve been waiting quite a long time.”
“She should be out so
on. She’s almost done in there.” He smiled. “In the meantime, can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“Sure. I’d love one.”
“Follow me.” He led her into the teachers’ lounge and poured her a cup.
“Cream? Sugar?”
Spotting the real sugar and powdered creamer, she opted out. “Black’s fine.” She might not be filming at the moment, but she still wanted to keep her diet on track.
“I’m Stan Burkess. I teach art.” He pulled out a chair for her and she sat down.
“JJ Davis, new counselor.”
“Oh, really.” He smiled. “You should probably be sitting in on that student meeting with Vicki.” He took a swig of coffee and winced. “I’m sure you’ll be seeing that boy soon enough.”
“I couldn’t help but overhear. Is he in trouble for some artwork?”
“If you want to call it art.”
She tilted her head in question.
“The boy draws caricatures.”
“Cartoons?”
He nodded as he took another drink of coffee.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Not very flattering ones.”
“Oh.”
“His latest was of the principal herself.”
She heard footsteps, and Stan looked over her shoulder.
“Vickie, this is JJ Davis. I was just keeping her entertained while you were finishing up.”
“I’m sure you were, Stan.” She gave him a look Jillian couldn’t interpret. Mrs. Patterson’s exaggerated expression changed into a warm smile when Jillian stood and extended her hand, and she shook it.
“I’m Vicki Patterson. Sorry to keep you waiting, I had a situation to deal with. Let’s go back to my office.” She turned and led her down the hallway.
“Stan was just telling me about it. The boy draws caricatures?” Jillian couldn’t imagine what could be so bad about David’s pictures that he needed to be called to the principal’s office.
“You never know when you’re going to find one of his drawings circulating throughout the student body.” She floated a picture across her desk and sat down. “Fortunately, he usually directs the offensive ones only at the staff. If he starts on the students, we’ll have a lot of unhappy parents.”
JJ glanced at the drawing of the big-lipped, bubble-butted figure on the page and had to stifle a chuckle. Mrs. Patterson must have seen her, because she smiled.
“He’s very good, I know.” She turned it so Jillian could get a better look. “I’d probably pay at least twenty dollars for this at a theme park, but here at school, pinned to a bulletin board, it’s considered disrespectful.”
“I understand.”
“I hear you’re available to start right away.”
“Yes. I can start today if you’d like.”
“The social work on your résumé is impressive.” Jillian had taken her sister’s and fabricated a similar one for herself. “Any plans for continuing education? Something leaning more toward teaching, perhaps?”
“That’s a possibility in the future, once I get settled in.”
She frowned. “Normally I’d like someone with a little more experience in education.”
Jillian let out a heavy sigh and started to get up.
“But I’m very shorthanded right now, and you look like someone who deserves a chance. So, welcome.” She gave her résumé another quick glance. “I’ll show you your office, and then Stan can give you a tour of the school.”
“Thank you,” Jillian said with a mixture of relief and disappointment. This would be a good way to remain inconspicuous and observe how Abby would get along here, but working at the school would probably interfere with her main goal of getting to know Blake better.
Mrs. Patterson waved a finger in the air. “Don’t disappoint me.”
“I won’t. I promise.” She felt like she was fifteen again, making promises she couldn’t keep.
“Stan, are you out there?” Mrs. Patterson shouted from her desk. “Where is that man?” She grumbled. “He probably went back to the gym. Stan’s the wrestling coach.”
“I thought he said he was an art teacher.”
“He does that too, but he spends most of his time on the mat.” Now Jillian knew what Mrs. Patterson’s facial expression earlier had been about. “We’ll meet tomorrow, and I’ll bring you up to speed on a few things. Okay?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Jillian stood and reached across the desk to shake Mrs. Patterson’s hand. “Thanks again for giving me a shot.”
“Don’t be thanking me too much until you’ve had a chance to meet some of the students.” She rounded the desk and slipped her arm around Jillian’s shoulder. “Your office is right down here.” She took her into the office where she’d seen her meeting with David a few moments before. “Paint, pictures, decorations. You can change it however you like.” She dipped her chin and narrowed her eyes. “Within reason, of course.”
“Of course.” Jillian said. The woman could be intimidating. She was about six feet tall, the same height as Jillian, but had a bit more meat on her. She definitely wouldn’t want to be caught on a wrestling mat with her. Mrs. Patterson would take her down in a minute.
“You might want to take a look at this.” Mrs. Patterson picked up the file on the desk. “David Mathews. He’s usually in here a few times a week. He’s not really a bad kid. He just does some stupid things. Maybe you can get through to him.”
“I’ll take a look at it. Thanks.” Maybe this would give her some insight into the whole Mathews family. She opened the file and flipped through the numerous pages. It would take some time.
“We’re going to meet with his parents tonight.”
Jillian startled at the sound of Stan’s voice behind her. She hadn’t heard him this time. The man was so quiet it was spooky. “Parents?”
“Yeah. You want to sit in?” He spoke like an eager teenager, and Jillian was tempted. She wanted desperately to see what kind of woman Blake had married. However, she didn’t think sitting in on a disciplinary meeting for his son would make a favorable impression. She didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with her new landlord or Abby’s unwitting father.
“No, I don’t think so. I’d like my first meeting with David to be under friendlier terms.”
He nodded, tugging his lip into a half-smile. “I’ll fill you in tomorrow.” He took the file from her and dropped it onto the desk. “You ready for that tour?” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got about twenty minutes before my next class.”
“Art or wrestling?”
“You found me out.” He chuckled. “I was trying to show you what a sensitive guy I am. As soon as any woman hears coach, she assumes I’m an inconsiderate jock.”
“Are you?”
“You’ve already spent a little time with me. What do you think?”
“Why don’t we leave it at to-be-determined for now?” Jillian gave him a soft smile and wondered if he appreciated her honesty. “Which way first?”
“How about we hit the gym? That’s where I spend most of my time.” He led her through the cafeteria.
“How’s the food here?”
“Salad bar’s good and they have pizza twice a week, but the rest is marginal.”
“Thanks. I guess I’ll be brown-bagging it.”
He opened the door for her, and she stepped into the gym. Her low heels clanked on the wood floor, and he looked down.
“You should take the heels off in here. It’s not good for the floor.” She obliged and dropped a few inches closer to his eye level.
She watched a group of pretty girls playing a miserable game of volleyball. She guessed swatting a ball back and forth across the net was just as boring for them as it had been for her.
“Do you play any sports? Softball, volleyball?”
“No. I’m not coordinated enough for that, but I do like to keep in shape. Does the community center in town have a fitness center?”
“It does, but you have to buy
a membership. If you don’t mind waiting until the evening, you’re more than welcome to use the school facilities.”
“Is that allowed?”
“Sure, a lot of the teachers swim laps in the pool, and a few even do some weight training. I’d be happy to spot you if you’re interested.” His lips tipped up into a sexy smile.
He was cute, friendly, and athletic. Might be a good cover. Slow down, Jillian. Don’t let yourself get sidetracked. You’re here for one reason, and one reason only—Blake Mathews. Giving Stan the idea you’re available would only complicate things.
“Thanks. After I get settled in at home, I might just take you up on that.”
He didn’t break his stare. She knew what he was thinking, and it was making her nervous. She leaned against the cool, painted cinderblock wall, and he moved closer, placing his hand just above her shoulder. The man was way too far into her space. Jillian was just about to give him a push-back when the shrill of a whistle rang in her ears, and Stan swung around to see where it came from. She saw a short, plump, gray-haired woman herding the girls into the locker room. The woman gave Stan a wave and headed their way.
“Who’s this?” the woman said as she approached.
“JJ Davis. She’s the new student counselor.”
Jillian held out her hand, and the woman crushed it with her grip.
“The name’s Jan Smith, but everybody calls me Bubbles.”
“Nice to meet you, Bubbles.” Jillian pulled her hand loose and flexed it behind her back. She took note of Jan’s tan, weathered face. The gray hair was deceiving. When she’d seen her coming toward them, she’d thought she was in her fifties. At closer look, the woman was probably in her early forties and was all muscle.
“Same here. Maybe we can have lunch sometime.”
“Sure. That would be nice.”
Bubbles nodded and gave her a wink before hurrying back across the gym to the locker room.
“Is she the tennis coach also?” That would explain the tan.
“She coaches all the girls’ sports.” Stan covered his mouth to prevent the gym-echo. “Sometimes she helps me out with wrestling.”