Take a Chance on Me: Lessons, Book 4

by Kate Davies

  With any luck, Jessica Martin would be gone by then, and he could just leave the damned papers on her desk.

  His pace slowed as he rounded the corner to her classroom. He could see a light shining through the slice of window in the door. Today was definitely not his lucky day. He turned the knob on the door and walked into the room.

  “Hey,” he said. “So, how’d your first day go?”

  Too late, he realized that she was not in the mood for company. She was slumped at her desk, forehead pressed against her crossed arms. Then she lifted her head. There was a suspicious sheen of moisture around her eyes. Dammit, had she been crying?

  Flustered, he walked to her desk, holding out the papers like a shield. “Uh, Celeste sent some paperwork for you. Insurance information, stipend form, that kind of thing. Here.” He dropped the packet of papers on her desk, keeping his gaze on the floor. “Sorry to bother you.”

  He turned and walked quickly towards the door.

  “Stipend form?”

  Tom turned back, one hand already gripping the doorknob.

  Jessica was frowning, flipping through the papers he’d left on the desk. “Stipend form for what?”

  He shrugged. “Probably the spring play.”

  “The what?” Jessica was staring at him with a look of horror on her face. “I’m not directing the spring play!”

  Tom let go of the door and crossed back to the desk. He thumbed through the papers he had just deposited and pulled out the stipend form. He glanced at it and shook his head.

  “Sorry,” he answered, holding the form out for her inspection. “I guessed right. Maggie Symington is the drama advisor, and you’re replacing her for the rest of the year. Looks like you’ve been nominated.”

  “No, thanks,” she said. “You’ll have to find somebody else.”

  “Me?” Tom shook his head. “I have nothing to do with it. Take it up with Celeste if you’ve got a problem with it.”

  Jessica jumped up from her chair and began to pace. “I don’t even know where to start. Is there a script, or do I have to pick one? How do I cast the show? I don’t know any of the kids yet! I don’t know how to build a set, or work a lighting system, or…oh, my God, I don’t even know where the stage is!”

  Tom watched as she paced faster and faster around the front of the room, twisting her hands in a rush of nervous energy. She thrust her fingers through her hair, tousling the chestnut bob. She looked just-rolled-out-of-bed sexy.

  Tom narrowed his eyes. Focus, man, focus. He knew he had to deal with the situation at hand, and that wouldn’t be possible if he kept getting distracted by her looks.

  Tom grabbed her chair and wheeled it over to where she was standing. He reached out a hand to take her shoulder and guide her into the chair, but thought better of it. It was ridiculous to think he had felt a spark when they shook hands this morning, but he didn’t necessarily want to tempt fate either.

  He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes instead. “Sit down.”

  She blinked, startled, looking at him as if she had just remembered there was someone else in the room. She hesitated, then dropped into the waiting chair like a puppet whose strings had been unceremoniously cut.

  “What am I going to do?”

  “You’re going to calm down. Then you’re going to call the office and ask for Maggie’s home phone number.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m sure she’ll have lots of advice for you. She’s on maternity leave, not out of the country. Give her a call.” He walked briskly to the door of the classroom.

  “Okay.” It was barely above a whisper.

  He glanced back at Jessica. She was curled up in the chair, arms wrapped around her knees.

  “I’ve gotta go.” He sighed. “Are you—do you need—look, are you gonna be okay?”

  She glared at him. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Good.” He paused, unsure of what to say. “Then I’ll see you later.”

  He was out the door and down the hall before she even finished saying goodbye.

  The echo of the door closing reverberated down the hallway as Jessica locked up to go home. The surrounding classrooms were all closed up tight and there was no light to indicate someone else had worked as late as she had.

  With a sigh, she tucked her key in her pocket and tugged on the doorknob, just to make sure. Then she shifted the straps of her overloaded book bag higher onto her shoulder and headed down the hall.

  Luckily, she wouldn’t have to figure out the alarm code yet, since the night custodian had stopped in half an hour before to introduce himself. It had made her feel just a little less twitchy about being in the huge building all by herself. Though she was pretty sure Tom was gone for the day, she couldn’t help looking for him as she passed the main office. No, the lights were off there too.

  An image of him flashed into her mind, standing over her desk, flipping through papers to find the stipend form. A lock of hair tumbled over one eye, giving him a slightly rakish look. Luckily, he’d been so intent on his job that he hadn’t noticed her staring.

  It was his mouth that caught her attention. Strong, full lips, pursed slightly as he concentrated on the stack of papers. Something about that lower lip just begged to be kissed. Then, from his mouth it was only a short distance to his jawline, strong and lightly fuzzed—you couldn’t really call the blond, late-afternoon growth stubble. Or could you? Well, whatever you called it, she wanted to run her fingertips over the barely visible hairs, see if they were as touchable as they looked. She didn’t even want to think about his eyes.

  Okay, she couldn’t help thinking about his eyes. Jessica groaned and leaned against the nearest locker. She had a feeling those eyes would haunt her tonight as she slogged through her drama materials. It wasn’t just the color, a deep blue that reminded her of midnight skies and her favorite velvet dress. There was just something about the way he looked at her that made her feel…vulnerable. Like a book, open and exposed.

  And when those velvet eyes turned their gaze on her, she wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing—or very, very good.

  Tom sat at his desk, drumming his fingers on the scarred surface. The main office was closed for the day, and the dim emergency lighting surrounded his office on all sides. He was the last to leave most days. He preferred the quiet for his end-of-day paperwork. He kept a desk lamp for just that purpose—to get some work done without interruption. There was something about the building after hours that appealed to his solitary nature.

  Pretty humorous actually, that someone who liked to work alone would end up a security officer for a school of more than fifteen hundred students. He’d had to force himself to move beyond his natural reserve in order to develop relationships with the kids, but that hadn’t been rough once he got the hang of it. After all, he took the job so he could make a difference for teens. The staff, however, was a different story.

  He knew they thought he was a loner. One or two probably referred to him in more unflattering terms. Staff parties held no interest, and neither did the little activities designed to bring employees closer together. No Secret Pals, no end-of-the-week get-togethers—he showed up at the school on time, did his job and went home.

  Not for lack of trying on his co-workers’ part, however. When he first started working at Summit, several female staff members—and a male staff member or two—dropped by his office regularly, using some flimsy excuses to try to get to know him. A few stilted conversations, a politely disinterested smile, some pointed glances at the papers stacked on his desk, and the visits dwindled to nothing. Even Gabriella, of the painted-on dresses and musky perfume, finally seemed to accept—grudgingly—that her charms were wasted on him and turned her attention elsewhere. Tom Cameron wasn’t interested. He was here for the kids, and didn’t need any distractions.

  He sighed. He currently had a big distraction on his hands. He needed to find a way to remove Jessica Martin from his mind, and quick.

  What was it about he
r anyway? It wasn’t like there weren’t other attractive single women on staff here already, but none of them had turned his head. In fact, his head hadn’t been turned at all in a very long time. Until today.

  Tom looked at the clock over his doorframe. How did it get that late? He tossed his pencil in the top drawer and stood, stretching a bit to work out the kinks of a long day. He had just enough time to swing by Aphrodite Pizzeria, grab take-out for dinner, and hit the couch for some serious spud time.

  He locked his office door and headed down the hall, squinting a little as he adjusted to the dim lights. He knew by this time it would be dark outside. Hopefully Jessica had gotten to her car safely. Maybe he should make one more sweep of the building, just to be sure.

  Tom rolled his eyes. She was a grown-up, for God’s sake. The last thing he needed to do was start acting like Sir Galahad, rushing to save her from the boogeyman at any little excuse. And his past had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was definitely not a knight in shining armor.

  He strode briskly to the main entrance and shoved open the door with perhaps a little more force than necessary. His gaze swept the parking lot, noting only two cars—the night custodian’s, and his own. Well, good. She was already gone.

  Maybe now he could stop thinking about her.

  Chapter Two

  The phone was ringing as Jessica stumbled through her front door. Dropping her bags, she grabbed the receiver just as the answering machine clicked on.

  “Hello?” she shouted over the recorded message, shoving drama books and paperwork off the counter. “Hang on a second.” She punched the off button and said hello again.

  “Hey, babes. How soon can you be ready?”

  “Ready?”

  “Come on, Jess. You just started your first teaching job. We’ve got to celebrate.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  Ana ignored her. “Unless you’ve got plans with your parents.”

  Jessica sighed. “Are you kidding? Celebration is the last thing on their minds. Now, if I had your job, Mom and Dad would be taking out a full-page ad in the Times.”

  “Please. I’m a local TV reporter, not Barbara Walters.”

  “You know what they’re like. If you can’t be rich, be famous.”

  “Are they still shoving corporate life down your throat?”

  “Did you know I could be making three times as much money in the private sector? Of course, I would have had to major in something practical, rather than English Lit.”

  “Money isn’t everything.”

  “No. But they’ll never forgive me for getting a BA instead of an MBA.”

  “Like you need a huge paycheck to be a success. You’re making a difference.”

  Jessica sighed. “Not judging by my first day.”

  “Tell me all about it over dinner.”

  “I really appreciate the offer, but—”

  “Nope. No way. You are not weaseling out of this. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  “I’m serious, Ana. All I want to do tonight is take a bubble bath and catch up on paperwork. This weekend, maybe.”

  “Sorry. I’m paying, so I’m calling the shots. And don’t think you can get out of it by changing into your jammies. You know me well enough to know I’ll make you go anyway.”

  Jessica laughed. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

  “Honey, you don’t know the half of it.”

  Still laughing, Jessica clicked off the phone and padded towards the bedroom. Pajamas were out, but she needed something more comfortable than business wear.

  A quick bite with Ana, let off a little steam, and she’d have plenty of time later for paperwork—and that bubble bath.

  “Don’t look now, but my future husband just walked in.”

  Jessica rolled her eyes. “Another one?”

  “Hey. It’s bound to be true one of these days, isn’t it? Besides, I’ve got a feeling about this one. I wonder if he’s available for take-out.” Ana grinned, wiggling her eyebrows in what was probably meant to be a lascivious manner.

  Jessica struggled to maintain her mock-severe look. Ana glanced at the counter again, fanning herself with her hand.

  Jessica burst into giggles. “You are absolutely incorrigible.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Believe me, it is.”

  Ana patted Jessica’s hand. “See, that’s why we get along so well. I provide the material, you provide the vocabulary.”

  “That’s me, your own personal Roget’s.”

  “My what?”

  “Never mind.” Jessica glanced over at the counter and froze. Eyes wide, she snatched up her menu and hid behind it, sinking lower into the cushioned seat.

  Ana’s hand pressed down on the menu, bringing her chocolate eyes into view. “A clever disguise,” she said, using a hideous fake French accent. “Zhey would never zhink to look behind zhee menu.”

  Jessica pulled the menu back up. “Please tell me that’s not your future hubby.”

  “Who? Tall, blond and scrumptious?” Ana whipped back around. “Why? Do you know him?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Ooh, sounds juicy.” Ana rubbed her hands together. “He was supposed to take you out but stood you up. No, you met on a train, had a torrid love affair, and never saw each other again. No. Better. He’s the father of your unborn child.”

  Jessica slapped the menu down on the table. “For God’s sake, Ana, keep your voice down. No date, no train, and definitely no unborn children.”

  “So what’s the story?”

  Jessica shrugged, tracing patterns in the water rings on the plastic tabletop. “He’s the security guy at Summit.”

  “You’re getting this freaked out over a co-worker? Honey, you work in a high school. You don’t have to act like a student too.”

  “Gee, you two are made for each other.”

  Ana flicked a glance over her shoulder. “Why?”

  Jessica planted the menu in front of her face again. “Thirty seconds into my first day, he tried to give me a detention for being tardy.”

  Ana burst out laughing. “Classic!”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Jessica peeked over the edge of the menu.

  Tom was still standing at the counter, waiting for his order. How long did it take to bake a pizza, for heaven’s sake?

  “Darlin’, you know I adore you, but the plain truth is you do look young.” Ana tugged down the menu again, gazing at Jessica with a critical eye. “When was the last time you ordered a drink without being carded?”

  Jessica crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I hardly ever drink.”

  Ana glanced skyward. “Work with me here, Jess. Okay, rephrase. When was the last time you got carded?”

  “For a drink?”

  “Why else would someone need ID?”

  Jessica was silent.

  “All right, spill.”

  “Lottery tickets.”

  “But you only have to be eighteen to buy…” Ana stopped short at the look in Jessica’s eye. “Ah.”

  “I know I look young,” Jessica sighed. “I’m sure I’ll appreciate it when I’m forty, but there’s not much I can do about it at the moment. But still. Mistake me for a student?”

  Ana tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, studying Jessica. Uncomfortable with the scrutiny, her hand crept up unconsciously, smoothing a few stray wisps of hair. In the half hour following Ana’s phone call, she’d pulled it up into a swingy ponytail. Add in her jeans and sweater, and she knew she looked even more like a teenager than usual.

  Another glance confirmed that he was still there, checking his watch impatiently. Jessica ducked behind the menu again.

  Ana nudged it aside and grinned at her. “So tell me.”

  “Nothing to tell.”

  “And that’s why you’re hiding.”

  “Look, he already thinks I’m immature.”

  “If he see
s you acting like this, I’m sure he’ll change his mind.”

  “He’s just a guy at work, okay? Nobody special. We didn’t get off on the right foot, and it’s, well, awkward.”

  “Crushes usually are.”

  Jessica dropped the menu and stared at Ana, who sat across the booth with her arms crossed and her full mouth pursed in a knowing smile. “What are you talking about? I don’t have a crush on him.”

  Ana leaned forward, jet-black hair swinging in loose curls around her heart-shaped face. “Honey, you are so crushing for him. Not that I blame you. He’s yummy.”

  “I am not crushing.”

  “Are too.”

  “Am not.”

  “Too.”

  “Not.”

  The two women stopped, then burst out laughing. Jessica snorted. “And with this conversation, I think I’ve left high school behind and have successfully returned to third grade.”

  Peals of laughter pulled Tom’s attention away from the menu tucked under glass at the front counter. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the stupid thing memorized anyway, considering Aphrodite’s was his all-time favorite pizza joint. And he always ordered the same thing too—a large Zeus’s special, easy on the sauce, well done.

  His glance flicked around the cozy restaurant. About half the tables were occupied, which was par for the course on a weeknight. Small tables groaned under the weight of menu-and-condiment holders, random jelly jars holding clutches of plastic flowers, and the ubiquitous Chianti bottle/candle combination. Somehow, the servers always managed to find a spot for the pizza too.

  A group of college students sat in the far corner, swigging beer and fighting over the last slice of pizza, while stacks of textbooks lay unopened on the floor next to their table. Yeah, they were studying hard. Several young couples were tucked into dark, cozy booths. Two long tables had been shoved together in the center of the room, and what looked like an entire elementary class was crowded around them, shoving down pizza and trampling the nice birthday party decorations.