Risqué 2

Home > Other > Risqué 2 > Page 8
Risqué 2 Page 8

by Perri Forrest


  “And what would make you think that I’m not?”

  She’s here to argue, I alerted myself. Probably who she is in everyday life. God bless the soul or souls that have to live with the shit.

  “Have I offended any of you?” I asked, deciding to shift my attention, and choosing to address the other parents.

  Almost simultaneously, the other parents responded with head shakes, “No’s,” and “Not at all’s.”

  I was damned happy that the kids were busy with each other. Because this exchange was not what I had planned.

  “So, if I may,” one of the parents offered. “My take away was that you are planning to give your all to your students, but you’re wanting for us to be active parents, in the way of their studies.”

  “That’s what I got too,” another cosigned.

  “Okay, good. Because that’s exactly what I’m saying. I don’t mean to make any of you feel as though I’m asking you to do the hard work. That’s all me. I’m the one that lays out the lessons. I’m the one who will show them how to get their desired results. My goal is to not fail in that area. So, I’m deeply invested. However, I do also need for you to be a source of knowledge when I’m not there. That’s all I was stating. That group email that you all received from me, had all my contact information. If you ever need me, I’m here.”

  “Well, I for one, appreciate this briefing, Miss McCall,” yet another parent added. “When I saw the email stating that you wanted to meet first thing on the first day, I didn’t know what to think. But I’m feeling at ease. I look forward to working with you.”

  “Thank you so much. Same here.” I clapped my hands together to signal the conclusion of our meeting. “So, if there are no questions for me, I’m going to get acquainted with your babies. If any of you are interested in those supplemental worksheets, just let me know and I can arrange that. I really thank you all for coming.”

  Except for the parent with the attitude, all the others shook my hand upon exiting. It was fine that she didn’t. Based on her behavior, I had already decided that I would closely monitor for the first week. If she came disrespectfully again, I would be recommending her child for another class. There was no way I was going to deal with a person that didn’t practice effective listening skills, and who looked for an argument in every damn situation. I just wasn’t going to put myself through that.

  “Okay you guys! Let’s take our seats. We’re going to go around the room one by one. When your name is called, I want you to come up to the front of the class, tell us something fun about yourself and what you did over the summer. How’s that?!”

  Excitement filled the room as all their hands went up asking to be the first called.

  Today was going to be a good day…

  17 | Trevor

  Summerlin Hospital Medical Center

  Laying up in a hospital bed wasn’t Trevor’s idea of a good time, and he was very much ready to go home. He had never been out of commission for so long. From what he learned, via his doctor, he’d been down for a whole month. These circumstances didn’t work for him. He would have much rather paid for a nurse and gotten treatment at home. This shit was for the birds. No video games, no pussy, no motherfucking freedom.

  He heard the footsteps entering his private hospital room before the man’s voice even said, “Good morning, Mr. Rossi.”

  “Morning,” Trevor said, his voice still fairly weak. “Call me Trevor. Every time I hear somebody put a “Mr.” in the front of my name, makes me think of an old dude. I’m not that.”

  “Copy that. It’s good to see you awake, and on the mend. It was a close call there for a while.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m glad to be among the living.”

  “Clearly, you being among the living wasn’t the intended outcome. Somebody didn’t want you to make it out of your house alive.”

  “Yeah.” Trevor paused. “I know. Pretty fucked up people in this world we live in. Keeps you with a job though, right?”

  “Definitely some fucked up people in the world. And yeah, keeps a bunch of us busy for sure.”

  “But I’m sure you didn’t come to talk to me about job security, Officer.”

  “Something like that. Came to see how much you’d be able to assist us with bringing whoever did this to you, to justice. I’d like to rid the world of one of those fucked up people you mentioned, with your help.”

  Trevor nodded slowly. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

  “First things first. Did you know your assailant?”

  Trevor’s expression went blank. He closed his eyes, then released a loaded sigh. “No.”

  “Did you see whether they were male or female?”

  “It was a guy. White…” Trevor answered. “About my height—five-eleven. Blonde hair. Didn’t see his eyes. His hair was short on the sides, and kinda bigger on top. Muscular, but slim.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “Not a word. He just… pointed that gun. Then… shot. I couldn’t do shit. Coward. Would love to see him again when I’m better and out this bed.”

  “Hopefully, we’ll have him locked up by then. A sketch artist will be by later today or tomorrow to see what they can come up with as far as a person of interest that we can begin looking for.”

  “Has this been on the news?” Trevor asked. “Because if so, they might’ve already ghosted thinking they killed me. Then to find out that they didn’t. Might’ve already left.”

  “That’s a possibility. But we’re going to push forward as though they’re still here. And even if they aren’t, they’re still touchable.”

  Comforting. They’ll for sure be touched if I find them first, Trevor thought.

  “Yep. It’s a small world.”

  “Now, your neighbor gave a statement saying that a woman came out of your house a few minutes before the gunshots rang out. Do you remem—”

  “Yeah. I remember. She was mad because I critiqued her performance.”

  “Her performance?”

  “Yeah. Her mouth service was trash.”

  “Oh wow,” the officer said, trying hard to hold in laughter. “Okay, then. Do you have a phone number for her?”

  “Trust me. You don’t want her. You’d be as disappointed as I was.”

  “You’re killing me here, Trevor,” the officer chuckled. “Good to have a sense of humor. Don’t see how you could, though. Not with somebody out there wanting you out of here.”

  “I know. I’m joking around, but I know it’s serious. Just all caught me off guard is all. Still getting used to the idea that I was at death’s door, you know?”

  “I get it. I’d like to speak to her. She could’ve seen something. Or she could know something.”

  “Her number should be in my phone. But…” Trevor looked around the room for any of his belongings. “I had just gotten out of the shower before it happened. Don’t know if my phone is here.”

  “More than likely, it’s in evidence, as a part of the crime scene. But I’ll double check that when I get back to the precinct.”

  “Why would my phone be in evidence?” Trevor asked, his voice showing signs of agitation.

  “Because CSI would have had to process. Their goal is to find any and everything that could provide clues as to what happened to you.”

  “But my phone… I need it.”

  “And I’ll be checking on that as soon as I leave here. What was the nature of the relationship with the woman seen leaving your home?”

  Not too bright are you, Officer Matheson?

  “Sexual. I thought that was obvious when I said her mouth service was trash.”

  “Do you think that the man was somebody that she might’ve known? Who might’ve followed her there?”

  “I really don’t know.” Trevor shrugged as carefully as his pain would allow. “Anything’s possible, I guess.”

  Trevor watched as the officer tapped away at the electronic device in his hand. He answered a few more questions about his activity leading
up to the time that the woman showed up for sex. He answered questions about anybody that might have had access to his home, or anyone with a possible motive. He answered as much as he could before it was time for him to get more pain meds in his IV.

  Trevor couldn’t wait for the time that he no longer needed the pain killers. Because the things that he needed to get done, required that he be able-bodied, without the aid of narcotics. So, for now, he would focus on getting well. Let the medicine heal the parts of him that needed to be healed. And then, once he was whole, he had big business to conduct…

  18 | Zane

  It was close to six, when I walked into the house from my first day with the District. I was happy when I drove up and saw that Giselle was already here. Bringing her into my space took zero adjustment. She just fit. Loved having her around. Loved the conversations we had, and the love we made. She made life better.

  As soon as I opened the front door, music filled the air, but not loudly. And even if it was, it wouldn’t have mattered, because it was so soothing. After a long day, it was welcomed sounds. And the smell! There was some kind of God-sent aroma that captured my senses and held on tight.

  “Zane!” Giselle called out to me. “I see you on the monitors. Come here, baby!”

  I was already smiling and didn’t realize it until my jaws tightened. It was a shame how she could bring that reaction from me without even trying.

  I waved at one of the cameras above the front door. “On my way to you! Let me offload a few things and I’m right there!” Moments later, after coming out of my suit jacket, and loosening the buttons on my dress shirt, I entered the large gourmet kitchen area. I went straight for her, wrapping my arms around her from behind. “Hey you,” I said, as I placed kisses on the side of her neck. She had shed her work clothes, and wore a tank and shorts with a pair of slippers. “This is the sexiest shit ever, to come home to.”

  She giggled in response to the kisses that I continued planting along the back of her neck. “How was day one?” she asked.

  “Day one started and ended with you. So, it’s still in progress… and beautiful.”

  “Well, aren’t you sweet,” she cooed. “But I’m asking about work. How was it?”

  “It was good. Busy. I’m playing clean-up. But as soon as I finish fixing the mess that was left, it’s gonna be smooth sailing. Especially, coming home to all of this.” When I felt my temperature rising against her, it was… “Uhh-ohh…”

  She started to laugh, then wriggled free. “Yeah, nuh-uhh… is more like it.”

  “Well, rubbing your body against me, under the guise of trying to be free, is the last thing you want to do. Let me just move, voluntarily. It smells so good in here,” I said, moving several feet away from temptation and to the island furthest away from where she was making magic.

  “Thank you. There’s chicken in the oven. And this that I’m making is rice. I like to sauté garlic, onions and all that before I fancy it up.”

  “I can already tell that it’s about to be amazing. Can’t wait.”

  “We’ll be eating in about 15 minutes. The salad is in the fridge already. The wine is on chill. We’re almost at the finish line.” She looked over her shoulder at me and winked. That one gesture by her, had me reaching down to adjust my growing tent.

  “So, how was work for you today? Can’t believe you spent the whole day with kiddos, and then still had the energy to come in cooking. I was prepared to take you to dinner, and let somebody cook for us.”

  “It’s okay. When I got here and you weren’t here, I figured it would be cool to cook something for us. I’m good. The energy I have for them, and the one I have for me afterwards… two different things. I come alive at the end of my day. Especially, when I can spoil myself with a little adult beverage like a shot of scotch from your office.”

  “Trespasser!” I kidded.

  “Yep! I’m that.”

  “Such a beautiful criminal.”

  And there was that over the shoulder wink again…

  “And as far as the kids, they were great. I lucked up again and got a sweet little bunch. If anything, there was an issue with one of the parents. Kicked off the morning on a sour note.”

  “Damn. That’s messed up.” I walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed the wine, popped the cork, then poured us both glasses. “What happened?” I asked, handing her a full glass of red.

  “Thank you,” she said, taking her first sip, then setting it to the side. “I was going through my whole spiel about us being the village. That each of us plays a part...”

  “Don’t tell me somebody had a problem with that?”

  “She did. Told me I sounded like I wanted them to do my job. Zane, I was livid. I honestly think that had the kids not been there, I would have read her for filth. How dare she? Where’s the lie in what I said? We’re a village for these kids. We. We’re supposed to work together. Some of these parents want nothing to do with contributing to the success of their child’s education. It’s sad and it pisses me off. It’s bad enough that the schools only really acknowledge one form of learning style—linguistic where they’re being talked at… for hours! Then for every five, you might have two that don’t learn that way. Get overwhelmed, where the words just sound like gibberish. Then before long, they’re lost. They feel inadequate because they’re not catching on, but don’t know how to say it. Then before long, they lose interest. I just can’t believe that every parent doesn’t feel they have a place in that! And we’re setting the stage because we’re at the beginning elementary stages—the impressionable stage where they grasp early concepts. Ugh!” she growled. “It’s just dumb, irresponsible, and they’re letting their kids down. They’d rather be that parent who shows up, only when they need to show out. But won’t show the hell up to a PTA meeting, or to a back-to-school night, or a general meeting to discuss concerns with their child’s progress. What the hell is that even about?!”

  I leaned against the island and crossed my arms, smiling at Giselle, while she engaged in her passionate rant.

  “Hey…” I said to her.

  I watched her cheekbones rise, on the heels of that smile. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m over here going off while I’m standing over our food. Gonna put all kinds of negative energy on what’s going in our bodies.” I ran my hand across the small of her back, to let her know it was okay. “No, Zane. I’m really—”

  “Don’t even say it, Giselle. You don’t ever need to apologize for being passionate. I love your passion. You care. That’s more than can be said for a lot of teachers. I’m glad to hear what you’re feeling. Honored that you feel you can. We need an outlet that we can pour into. For one, that’s what I’m here for—what I’ll always be here for. And for two, this kind of thing coincides with some of the initiatives that I’ll be working on as I work with the board to review policy. So, please don’t ever feel that you need to censor yourself, or keep to yourself. I never want you doing that. Okay?” I asked, leaning closer to her.

  “Okay,” she spoke softly. “Thank you, Zane. For being you—for being here.”

  I kissed her cheek. “Always, baby. I think what you did with your parents is amazing. You’re building bridges for your kids. And they only have you for one school year. The way you care should transfer across their entire academic career. The world needs more educators like you.”

  “And to think it all came about from me wanting to be an effective supplement for my own daughter.”

  “Really?”

  Giselle placed the nearby lid over the rice and turned it to simmer. She then grabbed the wine bottle and her glass, leading us into the dining area, where we she continued her story.

  “I was dead-set on being a corporate girl. I had Skai when I was 20—my second year of undergrad. After undergrad, I worked for the Department of Energy as an Administrative Specialist. By the time I finished with grad school, Skai was in kindergarten. I was doing well at DOE, and on the fast track to management.
But, when middle school rolled around, I saw where I was supposed to be.”

  “So, your daughter was the reason you left corporate and went into teaching? Wow.”

  “She was. I loved my job. Gave it 11 years. But I loved Skai more. Cared about making sure that she was as successful as she could be. Leaving that solely into the hands of the educational institution wasn’t an option. Especially, when I saw her struggling and withdrawing. A lot of people around me wanted to attribute that to her home life. The escalating problems between me and her father; it was more than that.”

  “You’re an amazing woman, Giselle. Truly amazing.”

  Sudden silence surrounded us. “No,” she said. “Amazing… that would be you, Zane.” We smiled at each other in mutual appreciation, then Giselle rose from her chair and came to me. When she sat on my lap, instinctively, I wrapped her in my arms. “You let me go on, and on—nonstop.” She kissed me on the lips. “I promise this won’t be me all the time. Even though there have been times where I have entertained thoughts of changing careers, I adore being there for those babies.”

  “I under—”

  “Shhh…” she said, her finger over my lips. “The point I’m trying to get out is that I appreciate you. A whole lot. Now, let me get finished so we can go work up an appetite for all this food.”

  My dick shot straight up at those words, and when Giselle went to turn the food off, I was right there to take her up on the invitation…

  19 | Giselle

  The weekend rolled around quickly. I was ready for it. It had been a fully loaded week getting those little energizer bunnies situated. Learning about them, and honing in on what their strengths and their weaknesses were. It was a full study session for me, and I needed a break for real—already.

  Surprisingly, I didn’t have to request that my student, Jesse, be transferred to another classroom. In a shocking turn of events, his mother, Nicole, emailed me the same night. She apologized for her actions and asked if we could have coffee one day soon. I accepted the offer and told her to just let me know when and where. Relationships with the parents of my students wasn’t something I made a habit of, but if the offer was extended to sit and talk, I was open. Especially, if she needed to discuss her child and felt there were things I needed to know.

 

‹ Prev