The Principal's Office

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The Principal's Office Page 7

by Jasmine Haynes


  She turned to close his underwear drawer so he wouldn’t see her expression. “Well, isn’t that great, honey.” She tried not to grit her teeth. “What a wonderful”—fucking asshole—“guy your dad is.” Of course, she would never say that word in front of Nathan. But it felt marvelous to think it. She realized Rand was right; it was such a good word. And it had so many meanings beyond just sex.

  “Will you sign, Mom?” For a moment, Nathan was her little boy again, begging for a new toy that everyone else had.

  If he was guilty of playing her and Gary off against each other, she needed to at least call him on it. “Did you ask your dad to register you for the class, Nathan?”

  He looked her straight in the eye. “No, Mom.”

  “So it was his idea.”

  “He asked me if I would have my driver’s license in time to take the car in the summer, and I said no. So he just looked up the class on the Internet. And he made an appointment at the DMV to get my permit.”

  She was sure there had been a bit more back-and-forth that Nathan was leaving out. She took the paper anyway. At some point, it was just plain stubbornness not to acquiesce. But she would give Gary a piece of her mind. “Get me a pen.”

  Nathan scampered to his desk. “Thanks, Mom.”

  After reading the fine print, she signed and handed it back.

  “Can you mail it for me tomorrow?” he asked eagerly.

  “Write up the envelope and put a stamp on it, and then yes, I can mail it tomorrow.”

  He grinned. “You’re the best, Mom.”

  She was, for now. Because he’d gotten what he wanted. But the next time she denied him something, she’d be in the doghouse again.

  “Please unpack your suitcase and put the dirties in the hamper.”

  “Sure, Mom.” He dragged the case over and flung it on the bed. One good thing, at least she wouldn’t be doing that herself, like she normally did.

  “And thanks for changing my sheets, Mom.”

  Whoa. He was laying it on thick. “You’re welcome, Nathan. Would you take out the trash for me tonight?”

  “Sure, Mom.”

  Was it bad to milk it for a few extra chores she usually had to get mad over before he’d do? No. But she was still going to call Gary to tell him how pissed she was.

  She ducked into Justin’s bedroom. He was already on the computer, and she blew him a kiss. Her baby, he didn’t grimace at her. Next year, he’d probably tell her to stop with all the kissy stuff. “Dad’s got a girlfriend.”

  Her jaw dropped, and her heart sank. She wasn’t jealous; she just didn’t want any fallout from it. “Are you okay with that?”

  “Sure. She was nice. Kinda young.”

  “How young?”

  “About twenty-five, I guess.”

  Good Lord. All that crap about having grown apart and needing to find himself was just that, crap. He’d wanted someone new, someone younger, someone smarter—Rachel stopped herself right there. She didn’t care. She didn’t have to deal with his moods anymore. She didn’t have to tiptoe around the house when he’d had a bad day at work. Except for the money issues, life was better without him. Besides, what Gary did wasn’t her business anymore. Unless…“Did she spend the night?”

  “Nah. She brought some movies over on Saturday.” He rolled his eyes. “Chick flicks.”

  “Well, you were a good kid for watching them. And I’m glad you liked her.” She didn’t ask the woman’s name, what she looked like, nothing, but she wondered how long Gary had known her. Since before the divorce? Had he been keeping her a secret? Rachel wouldn’t think about it. It no longer mattered. “Unpack your suitcase, would you, sweetie?”

  She went to her own room and closed the door. She didn’t want the boys hearing her argue with Gary.

  “I’m not even home yet, Rachel.” His voice was far away, distorted by the car’s Bluetooth. “What did I do now?”

  She pursed her lips. “I told you I wasn’t ready for Nathan to start driving lessons.”

  The Bluetooth did not disguise his long-suffering sigh. “I told him to tell you that you could pay me your half later.”

  “That’s not the point, Gary. You didn’t call me before you did it.” He hadn’t even had the decency to tell her; he’d let Nathan come to her with the news.

  “Fine. Then don’t sign the paper.”

  “You know I can’t do that without sounding like a bitch.”

  He didn’t say anything. Because she was a bitch. In his mind. He probably told his new girlfriend what a bitch his ex-wife was. She wouldn’t ask about that, because she wasn’t a bitch and his love life wasn’t her business.

  “Look, will you just promise you won’t do stuff like this without telling me first?”

  He grunted. “Sure. Whatever.” He sounded like Nathan. She wanted to smack him. Damn him. He always took away her choices, made the decision without her, then came off like the good guy riding to the rescue. She was Snidely Whiplash.

  Since she couldn’t smack him the way she wanted to, she rode him a little bit more. “And the garage door still needs fixing. The remote only works intermittently.” Gary was supposed to fix the stuff around the house, just like before. Until they sold the place, that was still his responsibility.

  “It’s just the batteries.”

  “It’s not,” she said through gritted teeth. “Both remotes do the same thing.” She’d already told him. Just like she’d asked him to fix the hedge trimmer so she could cut back the juniper by the front door. She didn’t mind doing the work—she mowed the lawn, did the weeding, even got the boys to help her—but she needed the proper tools. And she damn well wasn’t going to buy a new trimmer.

  “Fine,” he said with an edge. “I’ll look at it next week.”

  “Thanks.” She hung up without slamming the phone. He made her so angry. She hated feeling like this, powerless.

  She needed some control over her life. She needed a better income. Maybe Bree was right, and she should get a degree, accounting, something she could offer DKG to get a promotion and a raise. Then she’d strip away Gary’s power over her.

  Rachel looked at the closed bedroom door. All of that would take time, a lot of it. What she needed now was to call Rand, right this minute. Some naughty talk, a shot of him telling her she was hot, that he wanted her bad. That would fix everything, a deliciously quick fix that wouldn’t last, but whatever.

  She stalked to the door and flung it open before she could succumb to temptation. She’d already sworn to herself that she wasn’t doing anything with Rand when she had the boys. Not even phone calls.

  * * *

  FIRST THING THE NEXT MORNING, RACHEL PUT HER TAKE-CONTROL plan into action. “Have you got a minute, Erin?”

  “Sure, Rachel, come on in.”

  Rachel admired her boss more than any woman she knew. Erin was only a little older than Rachel, but she’d done so much. Erin and Dominic DeKnight had owned DKG for ten years. She was the guts and heart while Dominic was the brains and the inspiration. He designed the ultrasonic gauges they produced, but Erin got them manufactured and shipped out the door.

  She was pretty, with a slim figure and hair a rich shade of red Rachel envied. And she was married to a hunk of a nice guy. Rachel would have said Erin had it all, except that they’d lost their son a little over a year ago. As much as she groused about her boys, she’d die if she ever lost one of them. She didn’t know how Erin survived. But she was strong, and that’s what Rachel admired most. Remembering Erin’s strength was what had given Rachel the courage to come in here this morning. She could be like Erin. She could take charge. She wouldn’t continue to be at Gary’s mercy.

  Erin’s desk faced the door so she could always see what was going on out in the roundhouse, which was how everyone referred to the common area in the center of the building that housed all the business machines, the conference table, and the coffee setup.

  Without closing the door, Rachel took the chair opposite
.

  “What’s up?” Erin asked.

  “Bree said that you do an education reimbursement.”

  “Yes. As long as the class has to do with improving your current position.” She put her pen down and leaned back in her chair, giving Rachel her full attention.

  “I’d like to take some accounting courses to help with the stuff I’m doing for Bree. And computer basics, too.” She was self-taught, but Bree’s Excel spreadsheets made her cross-eyed. She was woefully lacking. “San José City College has several classes that would be useful.” After the boys went to bed last night, she’d done some research.

  “Aren’t you a little late for the spring quarter?”

  “They have some late-start short courses that there’s still time to register for.” There were a couple of computer offerings that had looked interesting. They began in April, which gave her time to register at the college, meet with a counselor about getting an AA degree, and even investigate financial aid for whatever DKG didn’t cover. Yeah, she’d done a lot of planning last night.

  “The computer classes are certainly reimbursable,” Erin said, nodding, “but we’ll have to look at the course descriptions for the accounting ones. However, we’ll be supportive in any way that’s reasonable. It’s great you want to go back to college.”

  Back? Rachel had never started in the first place. She’d graduated high school, gotten a job just to have a job, but all she’d ever wanted was to be a mother. That was all good, and she didn’t regret the decision, but now she needed more. “I can’t afford to remain a receptionist.”

  She almost added that teenage boys were too expensive, but she didn’t want to remind Erin about her son. True, Erin had started putting out pictures of Jay, and once in a while she’d suddenly remember something and tell Rachel a little story about him. That had only started happening in the last month or so. Before that, no one even said Jay’s name.

  Erin’s computer pinged. She glanced at the monitor, read a moment, smiled, a funny sort of secret smile, as if she was reading something sexual or seductive. Then she turned back to Rachel. “By the way, Dominic and I are taking a couple of days off next week for Valentine’s. Can you hold the fort down in case there’s a crisis?”

  Rachel realized Erin was offering a vote of confidence in the offhand comment. Here, I know you can do this. And Rachel could. “Sure, no problem. Heading somewhere special?”

  Erin merely nodded, her smile even bigger, but she didn’t mention where they were going.

  That was another thing Rachel had noticed happening in the last month or so, how much more affectionate Erin and Dominic had gotten. Secret smiles, more touching, and now this, a romantic trip for Valentine’s. Good for them.

  Rachel stood. “I’ll get to work. Thanks, on the education thing. I’ll let you read the course descriptions when I’ve actually signed up.”

  “Good.” Erin’s computer pinged again. And again, she read, then laughed softly to herself and started typing.

  Rachel had the oddest urge to rush into engineering and see if Dominic was typing on his computer, too. She was sure they were chatting. She was also pretty darn sure it wasn’t anything in the least bit work related.

  That made her think of Rand. For the first time ever, she wished she had unlimited texting. Because she’d send him a text right now, something naughty, something provocative. Something that would make him think about her all day long.

  THE WEEK WAS INTERMINABLE. RACHEL NEVER THOUGHT SHE’D BE dying for Sunday night when she dropped the boys off at Gary’s. But it was only Thursday, with seventy-two hours still to go.

  She was definitely having withdrawals. What you couldn’t have, you simply couldn’t stop thinking about, and she wanted Rand badly. He was so right; desperation peaked when you couldn’t get what you needed. She was desperate for him now, sexually frustrated, and snapping at everything.

  “Principal Torvik is a dickhead.” Nathan tossed his backpack on the kitchen table. He’d gone to another basketball game with his friends. Justin was already in his room doing his homework.

  “Watch your language.” There, she’d snapped at him, without even a please. When disciplining, she strove to be neutral, not angry, but she’d failed.

  “Well, he is.” Nathan pouted.

  “What did the principal do this time?”

  Principal Torvik was the bane of Nathan’s existence. She imagined the man resembled the short, bald principal on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, who barked loudly to make up for his lack of stature. She’d only made it to a couple of parent-teacher days this year and hadn’t gotten a chance to meet the new principal yet. In years past, she hadn’t missed a single school open house or meeting and had made a point to talk to each of her sons’ teachers. She’d also known all the boys’ friends, met their parents, mostly because of all the carpooling. There were so many things she didn’t get a chance to do since going back to work.

  Rachel recognized, however, that while Nathan blamed Principal Torvik, his own behavior was the problem. He’d started mouthing off in class, yet another negative effect of the divorce.

  “He took my phone away.” Nathan threw himself in a chair, making the spindly legs creak.

  “What?” She couldn’t afford another phone. “What do you mean he took it? Didn’t he give it back?” Okay, there was discipline, then there was personal property.

  “Yeah. But only at the end of the day. And I had to go into his office and listen to another of his stupid lectures.”

  She calmed down. He’d gotten the phone back. “About what?”

  “Not using my cell phone in class.” He rolled his eyes just like Justin did, or maybe Justin did it like Nathan. Then he deepened his voice in imitation of the beleaguered Principal Torvik. “It’s disruptive and impolite. Blah, blah, blah.”

  There was a strict rule at the school that there was no talking or texting on cell phones during class. Rachel agreed with it. She also didn’t like the way Nathan was making fun of an authority figure. She was at a loss as to what to do about his increasingly poor attitude, toward her and toward school. “Principal Torvik is right. You know you’re not supposed to use your cell phone.”

  “I wasn’t using it. I only took a picture to prove that Jonesy was sleeping at his desk.”

  “That’s semantics, Nathan. Whether it’s talking, texting, or taking a photo, it’s using it.”

  “I don’t have texting,” he snarled.

  She closed her eyes. She no longer knew how to have a reasonable discussion with him. If she agreed or said nothing, it was teaching him that bad behavior was acceptable. If she sided with the principal, she was the bad guy. Well, sometimes moms just had to be bad guys.

  “The solution is not to use your cell phone in class.”

  “Geez, Mom, thanks for the advice.” He stood up, skidding the chair across the linoleum, and dragged his backpack over the table as he stomped away.

  “Please do your homework,” she called to his back as he disappeared down the hall. Of course, he didn’t answer. She blew out a breath. If she could just figure out what she was doing wrong and fix it. For now, the most effective thing she could come up with was to increase her income so they didn’t have these constant money battles. She’d filled out the necessary forms to register for the city college online. The little window had come up, flashing a notice that it would take a few days to process her registration.

  When she’d signed the divorce settlement that gave Gary responsibility for paying the full mortgage and property tax bill as long as she paid half the childcare expenses, she’d thought it was a great deal. She hadn’t realized she’d need veto power over those expenses so that they weren’t constantly fighting about it.

  Whatever. She pulled out the frying pan. For some reason, it made her think of Rand. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Oh, she wanted the fire. She was so ready for the fire. Sunday night. As soon as she dropped the boys off at Gary’s.

  It was the first tim
e, she realized, that she was completely ready to get rid of the boys for a week.

  8

  DURING LUNCHTIME ON FRIDAY, RACHEL HAD LEFT RAND A MESSAGE. “I’m dropping the kids off at seven Sunday night.”

  It was pretty damn hot when just the sound of a woman’s voice on a message made him hard. Rand had started making plans, but he hadn’t gotten a chance to call her back until he’d finished his evening hour at the gym. By that time, she didn’t answer.

  “Come straight to my house after you drop them off,” he said over voicemail. That was all. He hadn’t told her what to wear, or reminded her to bring her vibrator. He said nothing about what he was going to do to her. But he planned. Big-time. All weekend until it was almost Sunday’s appointed hour.

  It wasn’t a stretch to imagine, having been married to the same man for so many years, especially since she’d gotten married young, that she was inhibited. He would release her. Hell, that sounded like Prince Charming releasing Sleeping Beauty with a kiss, but he had a release of a wholly different nature in mind.

  When his doorbell rang, half an hour remained before she was supposed to arrive. Yet he never doubted it was her.

  She surprised him. He’d assumed she’d go for sexy, testing her newfound confidence after their last meeting. Instead she wore a flowered dress that covered her knees, and while it was pretty, his grandmother would have worn it. Her lips were painted a pale kissable pink that made him want to take her mouth. But not yet. That would come later.

  “You are absolutely fucking perfect.” He gave her the filthy word because he’d already taught her how good it was. “The schoolmarm I’m going to debauch.”

  She laughed. Without the smile, she could appear a bit somber. “Oh God, what are you going to make me do tonight? Watch again?” She shook her head. “No, you’ve probably fixed it so they’ll be watching me this time.”

  “You’re beginning to know me well.” She was also right, what he had planned would involve watching, but he would be the one doing it.

 

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