First to Fail: A Strictly Professional Romance (Unraveled Book 3)

by Marie Johnston

  I let out a slow breath. You win some, you lose some. Unfortunately, while researching the technological needs of a fine-arts program, I had come across schools where every student was issued an iPad for the year. Each classroom had an interactive smart board instead of a chalkboard. Some high schools had even done away with textbooks, and they were larger facilities than Preston.

  The meeting dissolved into a discussion about what would be the best fit for the school and most seemed to agree with the technology upgrades. Each time my excitement soared, I remembered that I’d have to break the news to Jaycee, that while the girl’s work wasn’t for nothing, a fine-arts program wasn’t going to happen in the near future.

  It didn’t matter what role I filled, I couldn’t help but disappoint both the father and daughter.

  Chris

  It was close to Valentine’s Day and since even superheroes and fanboys fell in love, I was surrounded by heart-faced emojis while waiting on customers selecting the perfect gift for the geek in their life.

  It sucked. I missed Natalia, but the burn of her unknowing rejection hadn’t faded. It didn’t help when Jaycee came home in tears. Her hopes had been dashed and she was sentenced to three more years lacking stimulation surrounded by kids who didn’t “get” her. Add to that the various fine-arts programs in local high schools she’d found, and Jaycee was moping around the house, miserable, and in full teen mode. I thought I’d gone through the worst during the last two years with her moods, but no.

  My cell phone rang but I ignored it. Customers roamed the aisles and if anyone really needed to get ahold of me, they had my work number.

  I finished ringing up one of our regular customers and her stack of Lucifer pulls. The woman’s hair was dyed platinum and the way her pale face glowed under the store’s combo of natural and fluorescent lights, I guessed she was trying to pull off her own iZombie look.

  The store phone rang, and I froze, handing off the bag to the lady. First my personal phone and now the store? Not a coincidence. I plastered a smile on my face. “Enjoy.”

  Two more rings went by before I grabbed the receiver.

  “Arcadia Comics. Can I help you?” My heart pounded. Was Jaycee in trouble again? Would it be her on the other end?

  “Hi, Chris.” Natalia’s words lacked her Ms. Shaw crispness. Instead, her resignation traveled through the line.

  “What’s wrong.” I didn’t say it like it was a question. Natalia wouldn’t have tried my private phone and then the store if she were calling to beg to see me again, or if Jaycee had nailed student of the year. Not that Preston Academy had a student of the year. They were all supposed to be exceptional, all the time.

  “Jaycee skipped her morning classes and has violated the dress code once again. I’m afraid she’ll face the next round of disciplinary measures.” Natalia sucked in a breath. “Which is expulsion.”

  “For skipping?” The news hit my gut like a punch from Hellboy. “I get that she’s violated the rules a few times, but it was for pretty tame stuff, for normal kid stuff.”

  “Yes, but Preston Academy holds its students to a higher standard.”

  “Fuck Preston Academy.” Two of the closest customers lifted their heads above the aisle. Dammit. “Sorry,” I called, and into the phone, I apologized again. “Sorry, Natalia. She can’t get expelled. Her grandparents…”

  “I understand, Chris. Can you come into the office so we can outline the consequences and what it’ll mean for Jaycee?”

  Mara was in the back and she’d cover for me, but it was the third time this school year I’d ditched her. “Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

  I darted down the hall by the register and knocked on Mara’s oak-stained office door. “Hey. Jaycee struck again and I have to go to the school. Can you cover?”

  “Of course.” Mara was out of her seat before I finished. “I hope everything’s okay.”

  My look must’ve portrayed my frustration with my daughter and my spiking anxiety about whether her grandparents would follow through with their threat to fight me for custody. I’d sent Jaycee to Preston like they wanted. Whether she walked the line to stay there was out of my power. I couldn’t sit on her twenty-four hours a day, and no one should expect me to when they took such a small role in her life.

  The twenty-five-minute drive to the school felt like an hour. The bitter wind bursting through the trees around the building matched my mood. Striding through the front entrance and straight to the office, I couldn’t produce much of a greeting. The administrative staff recognized me by now and waved to the left where Ms. Shaw’s corner office was hidden away. Just as the woman inside hid herself from the world.

  Jaycee was slumped in a chair across from Ms. Branson’s sturdy desk. Her cheeks were red and blotchy, and tears brimmed in her eyes, ready to fall. My gaze dipped to her jeans and Vans. How’d I miss that this morning?

  No. She’d been in khaki pants, with the same emerald top, and had remarked on the brutal cold and how grateful she was she didn’t have to walk to school or go outside between classes.

  I sighed and she looked up. Ms. Branson ducked her blond head to give us a feeling of privacy. I wasn’t going to make my drama public any more than it already was. I bypassed Ms. Branson and barged into Natalia’s office.

  Ms. Branson’s chair scraped back, and she squeaked like she was going to say something, but I’d already disappeared inside and closed the door behind me. Natalia jerked her head up. A sheet of paper was in front of her, and her keyboard had been pushed out of the way.

  I didn’t take my eyes off her as I crossed to the seat. A stronger man could’ve looked away and she was my weakness. Her hair was bound, and she reached for a black-rimmed pair of glasses, but her hand stalled over them.

  My mind flashed back to the first time I’d been in this office. She’d worn those, but I hadn’t seen them on her since. And she didn’t wear contacts.

  Really? Glasses? Was she ever the real Natalia Preston Shaw with anyone?

  I plopped into the chair, rested my elbows on the armrests, and clasped my hands in front of my stomach. “Lay it on me.”

  Pushing her chair away from her desk, she crossed her legs and I wanted to groan. Did she have to pick a skirt to wear today of all days? She hadn’t known Jaycee would decide to be a little delinquent today. The skirt was part of her Ms. Shaw identity. Sharp. Professional. But with a kick of femininity the men she worked with couldn’t deny, like her own little rebellion. Natalia wasn’t a business-skirt woman. She was a sweats-and-leggings woman, but “they” had expectations so she must live up to them.

  Natalia tilted her head. Was my resentment streaming through my features? Probably. I had Nana and Papa to deal with. Would they live up to their threats? I’d been in Jaycee’s life full-time for four years. Yet, Cierra had all the power. I should’ve fought for custody when I had the means, but her parents had already been murmuring in her ear, convincing them a nanny would be just as good. An informal deal, an understanding between me and Cierra, had seemed sufficient and also wouldn’t make Jaycee feel like her mother had totally given up on her. Which was the truth, wasn’t it? But at the time, I’d been willing to absorb the hard feelings and stress to buffer my daughter.

  “I went through the policy in detail before you got here.” Natalia flipped the document in front of her around and pushed it across the desk. I didn’t bother reaching for it. “Jaycee will be expelled for the rest of the year. However, upon proof of completion of ninth grade at another school and an essay about what she learned about her time away from Preston, she can petition to return to the school for her sophomore year.”

  I dropped my gaze from her steady one to glare at the paper. Expelled. My daughter. “Natalia. I’m going to lose her if you do this.”

  She pressed her lips together. Sympathy simmered in her eyes, but so did determination. “I’m really sorry, Chris. I think Jaycee’s going to continue to struggle with the board’s decision to table the new course tr
ack, and I anticipate that she will continue to act out.”

  I couldn’t look at her. Was I expecting her to bend rules for me just because we slept together?

  Yeah, I kinda was. But also because Natalia knew what was riding on this decision and she wasn’t allowing one inch of leeway for Jaycee.

  Natalia leaned forward. “There’s only three months left in this school year. She can use the time away to work through her feelings and finish her freshman requirements. I’m sure she’ll get back in next year.”

  Get back in next year. That sounded awful.

  “You know what? I want her nowhere near this place.” Now that I’d admitted it, the floodgates opened. “What has Preston ever done for her? As a matter of fact, what has anyone who’s had anything to do with Preston ever done for her? Her mother gave her up. Her grandparents force this vile place on her like it’s her greatest wish to spend her days with other kids who only care about what she can do for them. Her teachers only pay attention to her when she breaks the goddamn precious rules.” And I didn’t swoop in to defend her needs. The anger roiling in me redirected itself toward Natalia. “And you made her think she could actually make a difference among these people.”

  Natalia’s lips pursed. “The fact is—and this was hard for me to reconcile with, too—this school works for many families. We stick to the mission statement and we graduate kids who are leaders.”

  “Leaders of what?” I sat forward. “What kind of leaders, Natalia? I’m sorry, we’re supposed to pretend we weren’t an item, right? Ms. Shaw. What leaders? You need to redefine that mission statement because it’s deceptively narrow. Jaycee has no inclination to be a bank president or a politician, but that’s all Preston cares about.” Her expression brimmed with shock, but I wasn’t done. “And I don’t think this place is where Jaycee will learn to be comfortable with herself, with me, or with the world. I don’t want her hiding behind a mask or-or”—my gaze landed on her frames—“glasses.”

  Natalia flinched like I’d shoved her despite the heavy desk between us. I ground my jaw down before irritation over our breakup spilled into the argument. Like it hadn’t already.

  “You’re right.” My gaze lifted to hers. Had she really said that? “Maybe Preston isn’t for Jaycee. But insulting those it is for is low. Bringing up my personal history is… Well, your need to please Cierra’s parents is not Preston Academy’s problem.” She flattened her hands on the smooth top of her desk. “Your mistake regarding Jaycee’s custody and your terror of its repercussions are understandable. But don’t throw how I behave around my family into this, not when you’ve done nothing but go against your best instincts to make Nana and Papa happy. Don’t come to me when your daughter does what she wants, not when you’ve been letting her do what she wants whenever she’s around you.”

  I… What? Was this her version of you do you? Her censorious words from the first day we met coursed through my mind. She was the boss, used to people jumping when she said so. She was educated and entitled. None of that meant she knew it all. “It’s easy to be an armchair expert. You’ve read all the textbooks, taken all the classes. But you haven’t taught. You haven’t been a parent. Come to me with your opinion when you actually have experience.”

  I popped up and stormed out. She might’ve called my name, but blood was pounding between my ears. Was the woman who’d been raised in an ivory tower saying I spoiled my daughter?

  “Come on, Jaycee. Let’s clean out your locker and get going.” I strode out, Jaycee’s footsteps rushing behind me.

  The halls were empty, thank God. I gestured to Jaycee to lead the way. We cleaned out her locker, leaving all the textbooks behind. Jaycee sniffled and refused to meet my eyes. I shouldered her backpack and marched back to the exit.

  After we were loaded and pulling away, I checked the rearview mirror. I wouldn’t lie. Seeing the brick monster fade in the distance was satisfying. My time there hadn’t been the high point of my life, and that school had made my daughter miserable. And if Natalia ever peeled back that armor she’d constructed around her, she’d see it was doing the same to her.

  A serious conversation was required with Jaycee, but I couldn’t summon the basic question of “What were you thinking?” We drove in silence for a few minutes.

  My phone vibrated. Seriously. What now? “Yeah?”

  “Mr. Halliwell, this is Ms. Branson from…”

  My joyful afternoon wasn’t done yet. “Yep.” What now?

  “There was a form we needed you to sign to show we’ve gone over the policy with you.”

  Natalia’s slender fingers pushing the paper across her desk flashed through my mind. Damn. “And verbal’s not good enough?”

  “Unfortunately not.”

  “You have my address. Throw it in the mail and I’ll get it right back to you.”

  Her beat of silence was enough warning that I wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “Sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Halliwell, but we haven’t had the best of luck with something of this caliber getting returned to us. We really ask that it’s signed in person.”

  And I really ask that I don’t have to see Preston again. “Fine. I’ll be in tomorrow after five.” When I was off work. So Mara wouldn’t have to cover for any more of this bullshit. If Nana fought me for custody, I’d be asking all of our employees to cover my ass.

  “Thank—”

  I hung up and concentrated on driving.

  Tomorrow after five meant I had over twenty-four hours to anticipate seeing Natalia again.

  But it gave me all of tonight after work to have a comprehensive discussion with Jaycee about what her decisions might cost us.

  Chapter 13

  Natalia

  The clock ticked to 4:50. Butterflies swelled in my stomach until the antipasto turkey sandwich on rye I’d had for lunch threatened to evacuate my body.

  Chris was going to be here soon. The rest of the staff had cleared out. Only the janitorial employees were in the building and they started on classrooms first. I often worked late so they saved the offices for last.

  I tapped my pen against the desktop. Payroll forms were scattered in front of me, and I’d been staring at them for over an hour. All that was required was my signature and Ms. Branson would forward them to accounting.

  But it wasn’t just the impending confrontation with Chris that was on my mind. I’d reviewed the footage of Jaycee from the previous day. She’d skipped the morning, and so had Dresden. Jaycee had gotten out of her dad’s car, in proper Preston Academy attire, and strode into the school, then backtracked and hopped in with a newly licensed Dresden.

  I hadn’t called Dresden’s parents yet, nor had I approached the teachers who hadn’t reported Dresden’s absence. Anger burned through me. Jaycee had taken the fall once again, while the reputation of Dresden’s parents and his athletic skill protected him.

  Fun times to look forward to tomorrow as I called a meeting with the boy, Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth, and the faculty involved, which included Coach Sammie.

  I signed off on the payroll and rose. Passing the bookshelf, the prism caught my eye. Days were lengthening this time of year, but a little sun shone into my office. I adjusted the prism so the S faced out. It’d catch the light better.

  Carrying the forms out of my office to Ms. Branson’s desk, I nestled them in the tray by my assistant’s desk. This process would get an overhaul if the board approved spending on technology upgrades that’d benefit not only the students, but the staff.

  Turning around, I spotted a man. I gasped. “Chris!”

  He was in the entry of the main office, his usual easy body language less relaxed and more…worn. Fatigued. Haggard.

  But he looked good. His broad shoulders filled the width of the doorway, and his winter coat hung open. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his loose jeans, and his shirt of the day read My Ring Grants Me Powers. What Does Yours Do? It would’ve made me smile if it weren’t for how we’d parted yesterday. />
  He stepped in but didn’t cross to me. “Where’s this form I need to sign?”

  “In my office.” I would’ve brought it out with me if I’d known he was arriving. Walking back into the constraints of my office with him messed with my emotions. There was valid tension between us, and I’d be gutted if he did nothing more than sign and go. But I couldn’t let myself be excited about being alone with him.

  I could’ve offered to grab it, but there was something I wanted to mention to him, a detail from the video that bothered me. It could be nothing, but he was Jaycee’s father, and the decision about whether it was significant was his.

  He hovered between the door and the chair he usually sat in, his brow crinkling when he noticed we were closed in together.

  I pointed to my desk where the paper rested with a pen on the side where visitors sat. “Just sign at the bottom, please.”

  Instead of sitting behind my fortress, I closed the distance between us. He scribbled on the paper and tossed the pen down. His gaze narrowed on me.

  “I wanted to talk to you about a concern of mine with Jaycee.”

  A brow lifted. I took in a shaky breath. Being around him was usually so comfortable. I could argue with him without worrying about what he thought of how I was dressed and whether or not it influenced what he thought of me.

  I squeezed my hands together. His gaze dipped down, but his expression didn’t fill with gloating. How was he going to react to what I said?

  “What has Jaycee told you about yesterday when she skipped?”

  We were only a couple of feet apart. He folded his arms and towered over me, but I didn’t feel threatened and he didn’t have the look of someone using his size for intimidation. The gravity playing through his features spoke of the long talk he must’ve had with his daughter.