by Lucy Lambert
Even without looking at him, I could feel his eyes on me. The back of my throat went dry.
He was so forward. So brazen. I just told him I already had a man in my life and still he pushed. Was that how he got his success? Did he just keep pushing where other people would have given up long ago?
If I hadn't known him personally, I would have thought his persistence an admirable trait.
"I told you already that I'm not interested," I said. With some awkwardness, I grabbed my briefcase from its spot by my desk. I had to get out of there.
Crossley chuckled. It was a deep, rich sound. "You're the first woman who's turned me down in a long, long time. But do you know what?"
"What?" I said, I started for the door, my heart hammering against my sternum like there was a little demon in my chest with a mallet.
"I like a challenge. Charlie. Wait."
I don't know why I stopped, but I did. I even turned back around to face him. There was some space between us now. Hopefully enough for that terrible potential to dissipate.
"You have chalk dust all over the back of your blouse. And we still have to discuss our schedule."
My eyebrows shot up my forehead even while my cheeks turned into mini furnaces.
"That will have to wait. I have papers to mark and lesson plans to go over. Real work that actually helps people. I don't think you get this yet, so let me tell you again. My students come first. Always."
I expected some sort of sophomoric reply, but instead he just watched me. Considered me, more like. I could only take that for a few seconds before I huffed and walked out into the hallway.
That man was insufferable.
Chapter 7
ALEXANDER
No teacher is that dedicated, I thought. No teacher I'd ever met or heard of, anyway. They became jaded by the system, or were just in it for the pension and the summer breaks.
She had to be putting this whole thing on.
I could still hear her striding down the hall. I kept thinking about the way her slacks hugged her hips. And the way her face flushed and made her look absolutely radiant.
Then I saw the cracked shards of chalk on the floor, left there from when she stood and knocked them off their little shelf earlier. I left her desk and knelt down, collecting all the pieces. I put them back on their shelf.
I looked out over the rows of chairs and recalled the way she'd managed to hold the attention of the classroom.
It's all an act. There's no way she's as dedicated as she seems.
All I knew for certain was that I wanted her more than I'd wanted any woman in a long time.
Chapter 8
CHARLIE
I didn't think that school day would ever end. So this incredible sense of relief suffused me when I slid the key into the lock on my apartment door and the deadbolt shot back with such a real, reassuring racket.
I managed to close the door behind me and drop my briefcase to the floor before Rufus launched himself into my arms.
"I'm glad to see you, too!" I said, unable to keep myself from grinning as Rufus's slobbery, wet tongue clobbered me with kisses. I ran my fingers through his soft, golden fur.
Then I knelt down in front of him. Like with so many retrievers, the years weren't kind to his hips and I knew I shouldn't let him jump like that anymore.
I took his face in my hands and looked into his big, soft, and wet eyes. His tongue lolled out of one side of his mouth and flapped. His bushy tail drummed a happy beat on the parquet floor.
"You're the only man I need in my life. You know that, right?" I said, looking right at those soft eyes of his.
"Woof," he replied. His tail beat the floor harder.
I'd had Rufus for seven of his nine years. A shelter rescue. Brady used to look at Rufus and tell me that I was a sucker for hard luck cases.
Someone had dumped Rufus on the side of the road, you see. Left him with one fractured foreleg, a couple cracked ribs, and a case of mange so bad he hardly had any fur left.
I'd found him at the shelter a couple days after he'd been dropped off and decided then and there he was for me.
And now he was happy and healthy.
Thinking of Brady wanted me to go open that bottle of wine my mother had given me for my birthday, but I was saving it for something special.
"Did you have a good day? Because I didn't!" I said. I knew I needed to start marking as soon as possible, but Rufus needed a walk and that couldn't wait, either.
So I grabbed his leash and took him out. Like so many other things in my life, the apartment complex I lived in was old and tired, but well-maintained. Rufus loved to run around the grass and tear the dandelions out.
"You wouldn't believe who I met today. You wouldn't like him at all," I told him. I talked to Rufus about all my problems. And he always listened. At least, I got the sense that he did. And not just because he was a captive audience.
I sat on a bench beside the building entrance and he came over and sat beside me, resting his big head on my thigh while I regaled him with stories about this rich jerk I had to babysit.
"And he's handsome, too," I told him, "But don't let anyone know I said that. Our secret. Unfortunately, you can't judge a book by its cover, as the old saw goes."
I thought I saw empathy in Rufus's eyes and thought there was a note of compassion in the way he let out another low woof.
It was too bad that someone so beautiful on the outside could have such a terrible core. Because Alexander Crossley had to be pretty much the most handsome man I'd ever met in real life.
And I couldn't stop thinking about the way we'd sparked at that moment, just before I left. A spark like that could start quite the fire.
But the split with Brady had burned me down to cinders. Not an ember left among them to reignite anything.
Not that I'd want to ignite anything with someone like Alexander Crossley, anyway.
Chapter 9
ALEXANDER
When I got back to my penthouse I found Alisha waiting for me. She had a key. It made it easier to get through all the minutiae of running such a large company.
Even in this day and age of everything being digital, there was still a lot of actual paperwork to do. Usually sensitive things like high dollar contracts, reports, that sort of thing.
And by that sort of thing I mean things that I wouldn't dare be allow digital copies of. Not with all the hacking thefts that had been going on in the public and private sectors.
Of course, this also gave Alisha the perfect excuse to come over. One that no one would question.
I smelled her perfume as soon as I walked in. Chanel No. 5. Nothing else would do. Especially not as well as I paid her.
However, the first thing I thought of was not what I wanted to do when I took Alisha to my bedroom, but rather what Charlie had smelled like.
Clean and fresh. No pretense. I would be surprised if she'd been wearing any scent that wasn't Lever 2000 and whatever shampoo and conditioner combination that was on sale at Target.
And she didn't need anything else.
"Alex? What are you doing?" Alisha said, her voice coming from what sounded like my study.
"One moment," I called back.
For the first time in a long time, I actually saw my penthouse. I saw the rich mahogany appointments and doors, the pair of chairs that flanked the hall table where I so carelessly tossed my keys many evenings.
I had a vague memory of having those chairs imported from Paris. And that table was a Victorian antique.
The floor was genuine hardwood. None of that laminate stuff. So polished I could shave using my reflection in it.
It had all just seemed like stuff before. The things I came home to. I kept thinking about the scuffed linoleum at Edison High. The chalkboards so old that no amount of cleaning could get rid of all the dust in them.
Had something Charlie said really gotten to me?
Before I could wonder further on the income gap and Charlie, Alisha rounde
d the corner, her hands on her hips.
She wore that tight skirt I liked so much. Her lips glistened ruby red, and the daylight coming in through the plate glass windows burnished her wavy blonde hair.
"Really, Alex, what are you doing? I have a lot of paperwork that needs your attention. This company really doesn't run itself."
I shook my head, trying to rid myself of that strange sensation of dissonance. "I should just have a rubber stamp made with my signature."
"I really can't believe you went through with that CEO school program. I don't see why they bother. Kids don't care about school. Especially teenagers. Especially poor inner city teenagers. God, I hate kids so much. Hormonal, entitled idiots, if you ask me."
I didn't answer. Normally I didn't care about Alisha's aloof attitude. It often mirrored mine, after all. But for some reason I couldn't quite pinpoint something about her attitude got my hackles up.
"Now," Alisha said, walking towards me. Her hips swayed. She bit her bottom lip between her teeth in that sexy way she knew I liked, "Why don't you go through those papers quickly so we can get down to more important business?"
Instead I grabbed her and pulled her against me, her hips pushing against mine. She let out a sexy little yelp that I silenced with a kiss. I pulled away, breathless.
Her cheeks had flushed, her lips parting. Charlie's face appeared in my mind's eye. I thought about what it would be like to hold Charlie against me like this. Would she tremble? What would her lips feel like, fitted to mine?
"Alex... What's gotten into you?" Alisha said, her chest and shoulders heaving as she struggled to get enough air. Heat and desire washed off her in lusty waves.
I knew what she meant. Normally I always took care of business first. Always. Business before pleasure. It was one of my rules.
"Nothing that wasn't there before," I replied. I pushed my fingers into her hair and pulled her mouth to mine again, kissing her savagely.
"Alex..." she groaned when I slid my lips along her jaw and down her neck.
From there I took her to the bedroom, carrying her in my arms. But nothing happened. I found I didn’t want her anymore. I found myself thinking of Charlie every time I look at Alisha.
Even with Alisha lying next to me, her perfect body there to behold, I thought about Charlie. I couldn't believe she'd turned me down again for dinner.
"I met the most interesting teacher today," I said.
Alisha turned onto her side, resting her cheek on her hand. Her wavy blonde locks were in disarray. That sight alone could usually pump me full of desire, but not this time.
"Interesting pillow talk," Alisha said.
"Charlie Morgan," I said.
"He sounds nice. What about him?"
"She. Her. I don't know if it's short for Charlotte or Charlene or what," I said. I made a mental note to find out.
"Where are you going with this, Alex?"
"I can't quite figure her out, is all. I'm not sure I've ever met anyone quite like her," I said, threading my fingers together against my pillow and then resting the back of my head on my palms.
Alisha shuffled toward me and rested her cheek against my chest. "Do you have me figured out?"
I didn't like this, lying there with Alisha like that, her body pressed to mine. I shifted aside. "Of course I do," I said, "Why? Are you jealous?"
"Of course not," Alisha said quickly, "Why would I be jealous of some teacher bitch who only makes 30K a year? Besides, jealousy would mean this was more than we both know it is."
"Hey," I said, a warning tone in my voice.
Alisha huffed. She got up from the bed, grabbing the sheet and wrapping herself in its thousand-thread-count embrace. "What do you think about us?"
I sat up. I became aware of my nakedness and it was uncomfortable, so I grabbed my boxers and pulled them on. "There is no us, Alisha. You know that. Tell me you know that."
She went over to the window and looked out across Chicago. I had an amazing view of the river from here. With the sun coming close to setting, it looked like a ribbon of fire running its way through downtown.
"I know," she said.
"Things are great the way they are. You know I don't want a relationship," I said.
I knew that I should go over and wrap her in my arms, but that thought repulsed me. I knew that it had been a mistake to take her to my bed today.
"Do you know?" she shot back.
"You knew what you were getting into. You knew this was strictly casual," I said.
"I knew," she said, "I know. Of course I know."
"You should leave," I said. I didn't want her in my penthouse anymore. Why was she acting like this? Our arrangement had always worked out before.
She shot me a look over her shoulder. Then she gathered up her clothes. I sat back down on my bed, the memory foam cradling my weight without a squeak or complaint.
Alisha was a smart woman. She'd come around to my way of things, I knew. Soon I heard the front door open and close. She was gone.
I went to my study and looked at the spread of papers. I worked on them for a while, my eyes scanning the pages without really seeing anything.
Something else was on my mind. Someone else, really.
I considered my options for only a few moments before I came to my decision. Decisiveness, that was another of my rules. Don't waffle on anything. There was no room for ambivalence in my mind.
Pick a course and set out on it.
So I picked up my phone and made a call.
Chapter 10
CHARLIE
That following morning started like pretty much all the preceding mornings since Brady had left me.
I woke up two minutes before my clock was supposed to go off. It went off while I stood in the shower, which I hopped into on the double in order to avoid grabbing my cell from my nightstand and thumbing instinctively to that text.
Over the hiss of water I thought I could hear a few strains of an old Elton John tune.
Maybe I was a little more studious in my lather-rinse-repeat cycle. A little less sparing with the razor (though why I needed smooth legs I didn't know, it seemed like a good idea).
From there I got dressed—grey slacks and a dark blouse just starting to wear against the sides where my arms brushed my body when I walked.
Dressed, I took Rufus out for his morning walk while coffee percolated on my countertop. A box of store brand bran flakes waited in my cupboard.
A stack of essays I'd been up until 11:30 marking waited to go in my briefcase. The lesson plan I'd gone over for 45 minutes after finishing my marking waited beside that stack.
It was a morning like any other since Brady. Except this time I knew I had to go in and face Alexander Crossley again.
But then he showed up at my door.
Rufus heard him before the knock came. The old dog's ears perked and he looked from his position on the floor beside me to the door that led to my short front hallway.
The only visitor I got on a regular basis was Ash, who taught art classes to grades 10-12 at Edison.
And there was no reason she would be here so early.
"Coming," I said, leaving the last few soggy flakes at the bottom of my bowl. I figured maybe it was someone from Bell trying to sell me cable TV, or maybe a canvasser.
However, I also wasn't stupid. Before undoing the chain lock and the deadbolt I said, "Who is it?"
"Me," came the muffled, and distinctly male, reply.
I stopped short of opening the door, putting my hands on my hips. "I don't know any Mes. Try something else."
Then I heard the laugh and knew. My heart squeezed in my chest and my throat started closing.
"Alex," he said.
Do I have a billionaire stalker? was my first thought.
"How do you know where I live?"
"How about you open the door so we don't have to yell at each other?" he replied.
I rubbed the heels of my palms into my eyes and then ran my fingers through m
y hair, tugging at it. This was a bad idea. Like opening the door physically meant opening the door in other ways, too.
I knew I should just tell him that this was inappropriate and that I'd meet him at the school. I knew it like I knew that I couldn't speak German.
At the same time, I also knew that I was practically giddy inside that I'd showered this morning (extra shaving and all) and that I looked reasonable.
Not that that should have mattered.
"Charlie, I told you I don't give up easy. Look, we're stuck together for the next couple weeks so I thought we should smooth things over. I thought I'd invite you to ride in with me."
Against my better judgment, I pushed the chain from its slider and threw back the bolt and opened the door.
"I have a car," I said. An old Camry with a billion miles on it and something called a wheel bearing that had begun to squeak as of late. But he didn't need to know the details.
"I'm sure you do," he said. He had that easy, half-cocked rogue's smile again. This early in the morning his cheeks looked nice and smooth. I caught the barest hint of aftershave from him.
He looked good today. A blazer over an open-collared shirt and some khakis. Real casual, like he'd just stepped off his yacht instead of out of his boardroom.
I had the urge to cross my arms and stopped it. My heart still hammered, and the barest trembles started running down the backs of my legs.
"I'm not letting you in until you tell me how you got my address." I had images in my head of him calling some cop on his payroll to search me up. Or some creepy secret corporate database with everyone's information in it.
"Stockwell. I gave him a call and he thought it was a great idea," he said.
"He'd probably think changing the dress code so that everyone has to wear their pants inside out and backwards would be a good idea if you told him so," I replied. I didn't like how eager to please our dear principal was around Alexander Crossley.
"I was thinking something more along the lines of bed sheet togas, myself. You can't beat the classics. Let's talk somewhere else. Like inside."