by Kate Davies
She glared at him. “Salt. Wound.”
“No, wait. I’m assuming your goal is to get a permanent contract.” Jessica nodded. “And everybody knows how hard that is, especially when you’re just starting out.”
“Tell me about it. I have friends who got their teaching certificates over two years ago, and they’re still subbing.”
“So what you need is something to put you out in front. Get your name out there. You need to be visible.”
“Right.”
“Well, what better way to prove you’re an asset to the school than tackling an important play? You pull this off, and they’ll put you at the top of the list when hiring starts.”
He leaned a hand on Jessica’s desk, a smug grin crinkling his handsome face.
Jessica leaned forward, covering his hand with her own. “You really think so? God, that would be so great.”
Her voice trailed off. She looked down at their joined hands and swallowed reflexively. She snatched her hand away, stood and walked briskly to the whiteboard.
Taking an eraser from the attached tray, she started cleaning off the markings from the day, keeping her eyes averted from Tom. “The big problem is making sure it’s a success.”
“I’m sure it will be.”
Jessica glanced up with a wry smile, then picked up a marker and wrote tomorrow’s date on the board.
Tom walked to the door and opened it. “Well, let me know if I can do anything to help.” He nodded briefly and was gone.
Jessica leaned her forehead on the board, listening intently to the sound of his footsteps fading away.
Tom picked up the pace as he rounded the corner, anxious to put some space between himself and Jessica’s classroom. Finally safe in his office, he closed the door and dropped into his chair. He held his hand out in front of him, flexing it slowly.
All she’d done was place her hand on his. A brief physical contact. Nothing more.
So why was his hand still—tingly, for want of a better word? And he didn’t even want to think about the tingles still echoing in other more personal parts of his body. He cursed under his breath and crossed his arms. He was sounding like some giddy teenager. And heaven knew his hormones were acting like they were back in high school.
The problem was, the two of them seemed to keep on touching each other—at the pizza place, in the theater, just now in her classroom—and he had this same reaction every single time. There was no reason such casual contacts should have such an effect on him.
And the non-casual contact…
Shit. That kiss yesterday still wouldn’t leave him alone. Just now, in her classroom, it was all he could do not to grab her and try for a repeat.
He brushed a hand through his hair, leaving it rumpled and tangled. Jessica Martin disturbed his orderly life, bumping up against his wall of professionalism and knocking it down bit by bit. Until she’d arrived on the scene he’d had no trouble keeping his distance from co-workers.
Now, without even realizing it, he was searching her out, looking for an excuse to interact with her. If he’d been smart, he would have stuffed the paperwork in her mailbox and avoided this situation today altogether. But no, he had to bring it to her door—and then he ended up encouraging her in this insane plan to direct a Shakespeare play.
The woman was a bit bent. And so was he for letting her get to him like this.
He’d been on his own for years now, and up until a few days ago he hadn’t questioned that status. He’d learned the hard way that the only person he could trust was himself. It was safer to keep people at arm’s length.
Unfortunately, it was getting harder and harder to keep Jessica Martin there.
“You’re an idiot.”
Jessica snorted and leaned back in the overstuffed chair. “Didn’t I just finish telling you that?”
She could hear Ana’s sigh clearly over the phone line. “Yes, but I figure you needed the confirmation.”
“No, I’m well aware of the fact.”
“And you’re going to go through with it.” Skepticism laced Ana’s voice. “It’s bad enough you’re the drama coach—”
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You know what I mean. You and theaters don’t exactly have the best track record.”
Jessica twisted the phone cord around her finger. “I know,” she muttered.
“So, like I said, that’s bad enough. But Shakespeare? Are you nuts?”
“Probably.”
“Tell me again why you won’t direct something else.”
“I gave my word.”
“You blurted the idea out in the middle of a class discussion. It’s not like you swore an oath.”
Jessica sipped at her rapidly cooling tea. “Still, I won’t go back on my word.”
“Whatever. I’ll be there in ten.”
Jessica held the phone, listening to the faint buzz of the broken connection. She should have known Ana would latch onto this like a Rottweiler on a—well, on anything.
She hoisted herself out of the chair, padded into the kitchen and switched the kettle back on. She took out another oversized mug and pulled down the basket of tea bags from above the refrigerator. Then she grabbed a box of chocolate cupcakes out of the freezer. This was going to be a long night.
The doorbell buzzed, jolting her out of her thoughts. She flicked on the hall light as she walked to the front door. It had gotten dark in the hour since she’d arrived at home.
Jessica threw open the door to find Ana standing there, holding a bottle of wine and an economy-size bag of frosted animal crackers. She smiled as Ana stalked past her and charged towards the kitchen with her loot. Yes, it was definitely going to be a long night.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Jessica offered. Ana sat at the table and ripped open the bag of cookies. “I have water on for tea.”
“Maybe later,” Ana mumbled around a mouthful of animal crackers. “Wine first. I think we both need it.”
Jessica took down two wine glasses from the top shelf of her cupboard. She set them down as Ana opened the bottle. Holding out a glass, she sat in the chair opposite her best friend.
“Why?” Ana asked simply, a pained expression on her face. “Why drama?”
Jessica shrugged and pulled the animal crackers to her side of the table. “It came with the job. I didn’t have a choice. Believe me, I would’ve turned it down if I could.”
“Well, I guess if you want a permanent job it’s a bad idea to kick up too much of a fuss about it.”
“Exactly.”
“And they don’t know.”
“Are you kidding? The only person around here who knows is you.”
“Hmmm.” Ana poured wine for both of them and took a long sip. “Well, your secret is safe with me. I think you should tell them though. At least your principal. I mean, what if…”
Jessica cut her off. “It was years ago, Ana. I can deal with it.”
Ana’s dubious glance spoke volumes. Jessica stood and paced around the tiny kitchen. “Honestly, Ana, I can. I even went into the theater yesterday and survived.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” Ana stared at her. “Your first time in a theater since—you know—and you didn’t bother to mention it? I am hurt.”
“That’s not all.”
Ana narrowed her eyes. “Tell.”
“Uhm, Tom was there.” Jessica fiddled with the stem of her wineglass. “In the theater.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“The lights went out.”
Ana made a go-ahead motion with her hand.
“And I, uhm, kissed him.”
“Get out!”
Jessica slapped a hand over her eyes. “I know.”
“You kissed him?”
“Yep.”
“And?”
“And what?”
Ana rolled her eyes. “Did he kiss you back?”
Jessica bit her lip.
“He did! Hot damn.” She leaned for
ward. “Was it any good?”
She winced, then admitted, “Better.”
“Well, it’s about time.”
Jessica stared at her. “About time? I barely know the man.”
Ana waved her hand dismissively. “I was talking about in general. You’ve been living like a nun for way too long. And so what if you just met him? The man’s hot. And anyone with eyes can see the sparks flying between you two.”
“The same man who, at the pizza place, was your future husband.”
Ana grinned. “Mine, yours, whatever.”
Jessica leaned down and thumped her forehead on the kitchen table. “This is just too damn complicated.”
“Why? You like him, he obviously likes you, what’s complicated about it?”
“We work together.”
“So?”
“So you shouldn’t date people you work with.”
“Why not? I mean, think about it. Once you’re out of college, how else are you going to meet people?”
Jessica shook her head. “Besides, I’m not in the market for a relationship.”
“Who said anything about a relationship?”
“Ana!”
“Oh, give me a break. How old are you, twelve? Why not have a casual fling? If you want to get hot and heavy with the guy, you should just go for it.”
“I just—” She waved her hands in the air, remembering too late the wineglass she was holding. She set the dripping glass down on a coaster and headed across the kitchen for some paper towels. “I’m not the casual sort,” she finished, blotting up the spilled liquid from the floor.
“Maybe, this once, you should be,” Ana retorted, grabbing the damp paper towels from her and tossing them in the garbage. Then she held up her hands. “Okay, fine, I’ll drop it. Go ahead, change the subject.”
“Tom thinks Shakespeare is a good idea,” Jessica said as she sat down again.
“Hey, Jessica, if you’re trying to change the subject, you’re doing it wrong.”
“I’m serious.” Jessica frowned at her. “He does. He told me it was a smart move. I tackle a difficult project, and if I pull it off, I look really good when hiring time comes around.”
Ana nodded slowly. “Okay. Leaving aside the fact that we’re still talking about the guy you should be sleeping with, I have to agree with him. This could be a great asset to your quest for a permanent teaching position. If you pull it off.”
Jessica stared at her wineglass pensively, twisting the stem between her slender fingers. “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”
Ana reached over and patted her hand. “Hey, don’t sweat it. You know I’ll help any way I can. And I have a feeling a certain security officer might be a willing assistant too.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “Sure.”
“Mark my words, kiddo. You should go for it.” She held up a hand to ward off Jessica’s protests. “Okay. Enough with the small talk—let’s get to the good stuff. Just how amazing was that kiss?”
“Ana!”
“What? I’m just asking.”
“It was beyond amazing, but it’s never going to happen again. It can’t. We work together. That’s all.”
Ana sighed and lifted her wineglass in a mock salute. “Famous last words, Jess. Famous last words.”
Chapter Five
“Bye, Mr. C!”
Tom waved as a student rushed through the hallway and out the main doors. At the end of the day most students seemed to pick up speed, drawn to outside pursuits like filings to a magnet. The foyer slowly emptied under Tom’s watchful gaze.
He glanced around the open space, noting the posters on the walls, the framed class photos from generations of students, the display cases filled with awards and trophies. The stuffed bobcat, a physical manifestation of the school mascot, stood watch in the large glass case at the entrance to the school.
A low rumble of voices pulled his attention to the theater. One of the doors was propped partly open, and light spilled out into the darkened hallway. Curious, he ambled toward the door and peered inside.
He blinked. It looked like half the student body was inside, wandering around clutching sheets of paper and muttering. A mass of students gathered at the lip of the stage. Suddenly, the crowd parted and Jessica Martin plowed through, charging towards the exit door—and Tom.
She was walking briskly with her head down, and Tom backed up, holding the door open for her. She stepped through, then stopped, apparently puzzled at the open doorway. She looked around, frustration and panic vying for dominance on her face.
Tom caught her arm. “Is everything okay?”
“Thank God!” she said, relief radiating from every pore.
She sagged into him, leaning her forehead against his chest. He slid his hand up her arm, tentatively circling her shoulders. Oops, bad idea. Especially in front of a room full of students. He felt his chest tighten at the close contact, and other body parts weren’t far behind. Taking a deep breath, Tom stepped back, still holding her shoulder.
He stooped a bit to look her straight in the eye. “What’s going on?”
Jessica pressed a sheet of paper to his chest. “I need one hundred copies of this immediately. Can you take care of it for me? Thanks.”
“Uh, you’re welcome…” he answered to her retreating back as she scurried back down to the front of the stage.
He turned and headed across the hall to the office, a bemused crinkle between his eyes. He glanced down at the paper in his hand.
Audition Information Sheet.
Ah. Now he remembered the announcement in the bulletin. Jessica was actually going forward with the Shakespeare production.
One hundred copies though? He shook his head as he pushed the office door open and turned the corner into the copy room. Come to think of it, there were a lot more students in the theater than usually turned out for play auditions.
Copies made, he strode back to the theater and pulled the door open again. If anything, the number of students waiting to audition had increased in the short time he had been away.
He stopped. Had Jessica announced which play she was directing, or was the call for just a Shakespeare play? He didn’t think a title had been mentioned in the bulletin. But Jessica taught Freshman English. Freshmen study Romeo and Juliet. And if he wasn’t mistaken, the vast majority of the students in that auditorium were female. He was willing to bet his last paycheck that every single one of them wanted to be Juliet.
He walked slowly up the aisle, sidestepping nervous students along the way, until he reached the front of the theater. Jessica spotted him and stopped pacing, a relieved smile slowly transforming her panicky expression.
“Excuse me!” Her announcement was acknowledged by only the dozen or so girls closest to her.
She tried again, but the excited conversations echoing through the auditorium drowned out her voice. Tom shook his head and turned to face the group. “Yo!”
Tom bit his cheek to keep from laughing at the expression on Jessica’s face.
His drill-instructor yell had silenced the din of over a hundred wanna-be Juliets immediately. Every head swiveled in his direction. Sometimes there were real benefits to having a voice that projected.
Jessica grabbed the sheaf of papers out of his grip and waved them above her head. “If you need an audition sheet, please come forward now.”
A wave of teen girls swept towards the stage.
Tom raised his hand and bellowed, “One at a time, please!”
They elbowed their way into a semblance of a line, muttering and digging pens out of backpacks and purses. Tom waved at Jessica and headed toward the exit. At least he’d saved her from being trampled—for the moment.
He reached the door and pushed it open. He stopped halfway through at the gentle pressure of a hand on his elbow. Startled, he looked back into clear green eyes.
Jessica smiled up at him. “Thanks for your help, T—Mr. Cameron.”
Tom glanced down at he
r hand, still cupping his elbow gently. Her breasts rose and fell as she caught her breath after racing up the aisle after him. He swallowed convulsively, an image of her breathing hard for other, more intimate reasons rising up in the back corner of his brain. Her chestnut hair mussed and spread out on crisp linen pillowcases. Her sea-green eyes flashing desire, sated lids at half-mast. Her mouth, slightly parted, dewy and… God.
He really needed to get out more.
Suddenly, Jessica dropped her hand and looked around, as if aware they had an audience of eagle-eyed teenage girls.
“Thanks again,” she said, stepping back and crossing her arms over her heaving chest.
Too little, too late, Tom thought, casually shifting his stance to disguise the evidence of his brief erotic daydream. These kids would have news of their alleged illicit affair all over the school by the time classes started tomorrow. Two single staff members in conversation? Prime fodder for the gossip mill.
Glancing over Jessica’s shoulder, Tom could see pink-haired Fallon Pierce at the lip of the stage, handing out audition sheets.
He lifted his chin in a quick gesture. “You’re welcome. Now go get back to work.” He smiled for a moment and slipped out the open door.
One hundred and thirty-five auditioners. Practically one-tenth of the student body. And only seven of them were male.
Jessica slumped down in the back row of the theater, staring blindly at the empty stage. Her shoulders ached, her ears rang and she had the granddaddy of all headaches stomping right across her crown.
She shuffled listlessly through the audition sheets, separating them by gender. That only depressed her more, so she tucked them back into one stack. And she had another round of this hell scheduled for tomorrow.
The creak of an opening door caught her ear and she turned, expecting to see yet another girl barging back in to get something she supposedly forgot and hoping to catch a quick moment with the director. Anything to stand out from the crowd.
But it was a much more attractive sight that greeted her eyes. Tom hesitated briefly at the doorway, then stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. It closed with a quiet snick that made her breath catch and her heartbeat speed up in her chest.
