by Hilary Dartt
“Yeah?”
“I’ve missed that slow smile, Josie. You don’t even realize how sensual it is, do you?”
“Mr. Smith, that’s hardly an appropriate way to speak to one of your employees.”
“That’s what I’ve been thinking about. You realize, don’t you, that as soon as this school year is over, you won’t be my employee any longer?”
Josie nodded. “I do realize that, yes.”
Scott stood up, and Josie took in all the features that had become so familiar to her during that intense (okay, very intense) summer years ago: the long muscles in his thighs, the soft dark hair on his forearms and the star-shaped mole on his left cheek.
A tiny flutter rose in her belly, and she hated herself for the reaction. You’re married, Garcia.
He sat down in the chair next to hers and grinned at her. She couldn’t help it. She grinned back.
“You realize, don’t you,” she said, “that I’m married now? And not to you?”
“I do realize that, yes,” Scott said. “But I’m not saying we have to be an item. I’m just saying we can go out for drinks now and then.”
Josie considered. He was smooth. But was he right? Could they go out and have drinks, as friends?
“I’m not sure that’s appropriate. With our … history.”
Scott let his gaze travel down Josie’s face, her neck, her torso and back up. She shivered when she remembered what he could do to those body parts with his mouth.
“It’s probably not appropriate,” he said.
She laughed, but for some reason she felt uneasy. He reached over and took her hand. Her skin tingled. His thumb caressed her fingers. She bit her lip.
“Don’t tell me this is turning you on,” he said.
You still know me so well.
She withdrew her hand, remembering The Marriage Intervention and picturing Summer and Delaney’s reactions if she told them about this finger caressing.
“So? What do you think? Can we go for drinks as soon as I retire from Juniper Elementary?”
Bad idea. Of course you can’t go for drinks with him. You really should just steer clear.
She shrugged a shoulder, going for aloof, blasé. Inside, her blood thrummed along in her veins like a symphony.
Scott reached for her hand a second time. When he touched her, memories of all of Paul’s infractions against her, against their marriage, paraded through her mind.
Last year, he completely forgot her birthday. They’d planned to go to dinner at Evan’s Steakhouse and spent ten minutes laying in bed the night before, salivating over the fresh baked rolls, the juicy steaks, and the house steak sauce. But at three a.m., just a few hours later, Paul’s phone rang. Another load of drugs was making its way up Interstate Seventeen, and he had to sit on the highway and wait for it.
The bust turned into a huge search warrant, and Paul and his team spent her entire birthday at some seedy apartment complex. He never even checked in, and didn’t answer his phone when Josie called to see whether he’d be home in time for their reservation at Evan’s. Needless to say, she canceled it and sat at home alone that night eating birthday cake.
On one of their rare date nights just a few months ago, Paul’s work phone vibrated during the movie. She hissed at him to turn it off, and made an ugly angry face at him when she saw his sergeant’s name on the screen. He went outside to answer and returned a few seconds later whispering that he had to go. Like any normal married couple, they’d come to the theater together, which meant she had to leave the movie halfway through to drive him home so he could get his work car. She spent the drive complaining about missing the rest of the movie, but in truth, she was upset because they had to cut their time together short.
Just last month, one of Paul’s partners, Michael, confessed to the guys that he was having an affair. He said that ever since the birth of his first child, his wife, Jennifer, ignored him, gave him the cold shoulder. When Paul told Josie the story, she found herself enraged on Jennifer’s behalf, and even more enraged when Paul defended Michael, explaining that he was just really lonely. They hadn’t spoken for the entire week following that fight, but she couldn’t be sure whether it’s because they were fighting or because he was gone. Working.
Josie dragged herself back to the present moment and looked at Scott, whose worst fault was that he wanted something he couldn’t have.
“Well, I’m not saying no,” she said.
The words dangled in the air between them, stretching the moment taut.
They both jumped when they heard the building’s front door open. Purposeful clicks echoed off the polished wood floor, and Josie held her breath.
“Blair Upton,” Scott said as the steps approached his office. “What a pleasure so early in the morning.”
Ah, my arch rival.
Blair arched a penciled-on eyebrow at Josie, and in that glance, Josie saw so many things. She saw Blair questioning what she was doing here, in Scott’s office. She saw her remembering the one mistake Scott and Josie made: the time they shared a kiss just outside the auditorium and Blair came around the corner and caught them touching only at the lips but so tangled up. Josie saw Blair wishing Josie hadn’t landed the principal position and taking note of the distance (the very short distance) between Scott Smith’s hand and Josie’s on the desk at this very moment. Finally, she saw Blair calculating exactly what this moment meant, for the two of them.
It meant nothing for Scott. He was moving on, to a new position at the school district, one where the school-level politics wouldn’t touch him.
But it means everything for Blair and me. If Blair could prove Scott and Josie had a relationship, she could bring Josie down. The lights would be out on my own role as principal of Juniper Elementary before the curtain even went up.
“It’s nice to see you, as always,” Josie said to Blair.
She stood up, thanked Scott for the coffee and walked out, leaving Blair and her eyebrows in the doorway, Scott and her veiled acceptance of his invitation behind the desk.
***
Josie ascended the stairs to the third floor, turning the lights on as she went.
Blair Upton wanted Scott’s principal position. She wanted it badly. During the application process, she even started rumors about Josie sleeping with some greasy-haired pimple-faced teenager. Fortunately, those rumors had never taken root. They sprouted like tiny weeds and then blew away in the silence when their other colleagues refused to feed them.
But still. It was obvious that if Blair saw an opportunity to move in and snatch Josie’s career out of the air, she would seize it in one of her taloned claws. Josie had to be careful.
She turned on the lights in her classroom, and just as she did every morning, she took a deep breath and surveyed her surroundings. Everything neat and organized, just as she liked it.
The desks were grouped into tidy tables, each with a colored bin atop it. The students’ art, drawings of the life cycle of trees, hung on one wall in perfect rows. Vocabulary words—absorb, average, brilliant, clever—lined another wall. In one corner, fluffy pillows sat on the floor in front of book cases packed so full the kids had to pry books out of them.
Josie nodded. She was good. She had built her career from scratch to become the lead third grade teacher in just eleven years. Other teachers sought her out for advice on curriculum, discipline and wardrobe. She was indispensable. She’d be perfect as the principal.
And no one, not Scott Smith and his charming smile, nor Blair Upton and her fake eyebrows, would stand in her way.
CHAPTER FIVE
For once, Paul arrived home early that evening. Josie took it as a positive sign. He texted her at six to let her know he’d be home at seven. She normally ate dinner at six, but she decided to wait for him. They could talk over dinner, just like old times.
Josie had learned, though. Just before seven, she dished leftovers onto plates and set them on the counter. She would heat them up when he was actually
sitting at the table. To her great surprise, Paul walked in the door at seven sharp.
“Wow, you got dinner all ready for me? I feel loved.”
His movements seemed at once so foreign and so familiar. She walked toward him and put her arms around his waist. He froze, just for a split second, and then put his arms around her shoulders.
“Everything okay?”
I cannot believe he’s asking if everything is okay just because I hugged him. Wow. We really do have problems.
“Fine,” she said, her voice a little too bright. “I’m just glad to see you.”
He put a hand to her forehead, pretending to check her for a fever.
“Are you all right? Lately every time I see you you’re bitching me out about something.”
She flinched, but forced herself to brush off his dig.
Truth hurts, Garcia.
Instead of responding with a snide remark about his work, Josie patted Paul’s butt and headed to the kitchen. She waited until they were both seated at the bar and had gone through the usual how-was-your-day pleasantries before setting down her silverware and launching into her speech.
“Paul.”
“Josie.”
She giggled. “I need to talk to you.”
“Ah. I knew it. This isn’t just a regular, innocent dinner together. Tell me Summer hasn’t talked you into starting our own little football team.”
It was a running joke. Paul didn’t understand how anyone could raise more than two children. Summer and Derek, their fifth on the way, astounded him.
“No, no. It’s nothing like that. It’s just, I mean, I wanted to talk about us.”
Why was she nervous? Paul took a bite of spaghetti.
“Okay,” he said. “What about us?”
“Well,” she said, “things haven’t been very, you know, very intimate lately.”
“Like, we haven’t been doing it very often? I agree with you there.”
“No, although that’s true too.” She picked up her fork and twirled some noodles onto it. “I guess what I mean is that I feel like we never talk anymore. I know I blame you most of the time, but I could do more to fix things.”
“What do you mean you blame me?” he asked. Now he set down his silverware. Josie felt even more nervous than she had a minute ago. She took a sip of wine.
“I mean, I complain about how you’re always working,” she said. “And you’re always getting called out during family functions. You’re thinking about drug deals when we’re supposed to be having sex.”
“Oh, right.” Paul rubbed his forehead. “And you’re constantly bitching at me about everything, just like you’re doing right now. This is actually a bitching session disguised as a talk.”
Shit. That’s exactly what it sounds like.
Josie took a deep breath. She wiped her palms on her legs. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, we agreed you should pursue the undercover position. Living it is different than I expected, but I agreed to it. I need to accept it.”
Paul sighed. “It always comes back to me going undercover.”
Josie groaned. “This isn’t coming out how I wanted it to.
“I’ll say,” Paul said. “You’re not winning any friends here.”
“Look. I just wanted you to know that I know this … distance is partly my fault.”
“But mostly my fault?”
“Don’t do this, Paul. I’m trying to fix things, here.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know things were broken.”
“They’re not broken, Paul. But remember how things used to be? Remember how much fun we had? We did so much fun stuff together. Remember that time we sneaked into that outdoor mini golf place and played a round at midnight? Or that time we were both wide awake at two a.m. so we went to the grocery store and bought ice cream and made sundaes and then had sexy ice cream sundae topping sex? We ate dinner together every night. We were so nice to each other.”
He nodded. “You were lots nicer to me.”
“At least I admit it. Isn’t that the first step toward recovery?”
“Yep. You’re on the road to recovery. Bitchy Wives Anonymous will be glad to have you.”
She slapped his arm and returned his smile.
“Seriously, though,” she said. “I want you to know that I want to make this right. I want to get back to how we used to be.”
“To tell you the truth,” Paul said, “I didn’t realize anything was wrong. I mean, I’m definitely tired of you bitching at me all the time. But I guess I thought that’s how wives are supposed to act. All the guys say the same thing. I’m kind of offended that you’re sitting me down for this big talk about a problem I didn’t even realize we have. You’re blindsiding me, here.”
Josie was the one who felt blindsided. She felt her face fall and her appetite disappear. Unsure of what to do or how to proceed, she stood up and cleared her plate. Paul’s phone chirped. A text. Probably a drug deal needed tending.
With more force than necessary, Josie put her plate in the sink and stalked into the bedroom.
***
Alone again, Josie shot Summer and Delaney a text: This Marriage Intervention thing isn’t going to work.
Summer: What? Why not?
Delaney: Sheesh. Way to be a pessimist. We’re just getting started, here. Give it a chance.
Josie flopped down on her stomach on the bed, and growled into a pillow before responding.
Josie: Paul doesn’t even realize we have a problem.
Summer: Of course he doesn’t. He probably just thinks you’re being bitchy.
Why did everyone feel like they could say that so freely? Was it common knowledge that she was bitchy? Maybe she really should join Bitchy Wives Anonymous.
Delaney: Did you tell him there’s a problem? Wait. Who am I kidding? Of course you did. I don’t think you were supposed to reveal that to him just yet.
Summer: She’s right, Josie. You weren’t. He probably thought you were blaming him.
Josie: What the hell was I supposed to do? I was just telling him I wanted things back to the way they used to be.
Delaney: You should have started with the sex. Always have important conversations right after sex. You know this, Josie. We should have covered this at our initial meeting.
“Are you kidding me?” Josie said to the empty bedroom. “I can barely get the man to sit down to dinner with me. Much less get naked with me.”
Josie: That would have been really awesome.
Summer: So what did he say?
Josie: He was offended I was sitting him down to talk about a problem he didn’t even know we had. He felt blindsided.
Summer: Oh for goodness’ sake. He had to have known something was off. Men! Seriously.
Josie: He probably does. Just doesn’t want to talk about it.
Delaney: Hang in there. He’ll come around.
Josie: I hate The Marriage Intervention. I quit.
Summer: Go initiate some hot Latin sex.
Josie didn’t respond. Instead, she rolled over and tried to find shapes in the texture on the ceiling. Her phone chirped.
Summer: Stop procrastinating. Do it. Haha. Dooo it.
Again, Josie growled. But she knew they were right. She dragged herself to a standing position and walked to the bedroom door. She took a deep breath and opened it.
But when she got into the kitchen, Paul was gone. A note sat on the counter, in the spot where his plate had been. His messy, all-caps handwriting read: GOT CALLED IN. DON’T WAIT UP.
“Thanks, Paul. I never do.”
CHAPTER SIX
A wobbly line exists between secrets and lies, Josie thought as she prepared for work the next morning. Paul still wasn’t home, and she found herself thinking about Scott Smith. Again. Especially as she applied a little extra eyeliner. His drinks invitation and his renewed interest in spending time with her had brought up all kinds of feelings she shouldn’t be having.
Stop it, Garcia. You’re just sex
ually deprived. Jump your husband tonight and all will be well.
It turned out Scott was full of secrets, and just as Mama had warned, he covered them up with romance. When they first met, Josie didn’t want to consider them lies, but now she wondered whether she should have. It would have saved her a lot of heartache.
For starters, he was not a newcomer to Juniper. He grew up in Juniper, but moved to Phoenix to teach, always fully intending to come back and become principal at Juniper Elementary School.
“And I always get what I intend to get,” he told her after revealing he’d be her boss.
The day they met at the downtown square, he had just moved back to town. But it’s not like the place was unfamiliar to him. Yes, some new restaurants had popped up and some old ones had shut down. But still.
“I played up the whole ‘stranger in a strange land’ angle so you’d take pity on me that first day,” he said later.
“So you lied to me?” She said it playfully, but he must have seen she was a little serious.
“No, I just kept it a bit of a secret,” he said. “I mean, I’m kind of new to town. But not really.”
At the time, she found it charming that he wanted her so much he put off dropping the bombshell that would keep them apart long-term. Now, as she pulled on a very serious, practical dress that did absolutely nothing for her figure (okay, who was she kidding? She rocked it in this dress!), she wondered if she should have backed off right then.
Or maybe she should have stopped seeing him when he told her he had a secret FriendZoo profile, so he could “lurk” (he actually used the word lurk!) on his friends’ and colleagues’ profiles without them seeing his.
Just like the other secrets, though, he explained it away.
“It’s just that I’m a very private person,” he said.
“Don’t you feel kind of like a stalker, though? Like they don’t even know you’re looking at their profiles?”
He shrugged.
“They accept my friend requests, so they know I can see what they’re posting.”
“But you’re making a friend request from a fake profile.”
