by Kate Davies
Janet reached over and smacked him on the shoulder. “Will you ever learn to keep your mouth shut?”
Tom sank into the chair and lowered his head into his hands. “There is no new squeeze. There is no new anything. Besides,” he added, glaring at Janet, “you said there would be no ambushes tonight.”
“And there won’t be,” she said. “Not a single eligible female will be joining us. But I never said the topic was off-limits. Sorry, bro, but we want the full scoop.”
Tom looked from Janet to Kevin and back again. They sat at the table, flanking him on either side. Their faces were open and eager, ready to encourage him in the pursuit of love.
Their marriage was so happy, full of genuine friendship and support for each other. After his crash-and-burn first marriage, Tom knew he didn’t want to settle for less than what he saw in Janet and Kevin’s relationship. The package deal—kids and all.
He sucked in a deep breath and shook his head. He knew better than most that the real deal was out of reach for the vast majority of people. His sister and her husband were damned lucky to have found each other. It was unlikely that lightning would strike so close again.
“There’s really nothing to tell,” he said, shrugging. “You caught me off-guard the other night. Jessica is just a new teacher at Summit, and we’ve run into each other a couple of times. End of story.”
“Oh, it’s Jessica now, is it?” Janet smiled, a wicked glint in her eye. “You’re on a first-name basis with her already? Sounds like more than just a passing acquaintance.”
Kevin nodded his agreement, mouth temporarily full of garlic bread. He passed the breadbasket and swallowed. “Sorry, Tom, but I have to agree with my wife here.”
“Of course you do,” Tom muttered. “Otherwise, you’re on the couch tonight.”
“Absolutely not.” Janet crossed her arms. “I am not that petty or vindictive. He could have the guest room.”
He found it nearly impossible to hang onto his grumpy mood in the face of their teasing laughter. With a smile, he acquiesced. “Okay, fine. I know you have a million and one questions, so go ahead and get them out of the way.”
Janet rubbed her hands together with glee. “Age.”
“Mid-twenties.”
“Aha. A younger woman. Attractive?”
“Of course.”
“Of course, he says. Specifics, baby bro.”
“Red-brown hair, green eyes, petite. Looks younger than she really is.”
“Personality?”
He thought a moment. “A real spitfire. Not afraid to speak her mind. Very dedicated to her job. Funny too.”
“Have you asked her out yet?”
“No, and I’m not planning to.”
She stopped, exchanging a look with Kevin. “Why not?”
“Rule number one. Never date a co-worker.”
Janet sighed. “I can’t even count the number of couples I know who’ve met on the job. Where else are you going to meet someone?”
“Other than our dining room,” Kevin interjected, earning himself a death-ray glance from his beloved wife.
She turned up her nose and continued on with her interrogation. “You’re not her supervisor, right?”
Tom shook his head.
“So, ask her out already. Look, Tom, I know you. Deny it all you want, but you’re interested. This is the first woman who’s caught your eye since the Evil One. She sounds nice. Don’t pass up this opportunity, okay?”
“It’s not that simple,” he said.
“Nothing worthwhile is,” she replied softly.
Tom dragged his fork through the strands of pasta on his plate, thoughts tumbling. In a perfect world, there was nothing he’d enjoy more than spending time with Jessica Martin.
Unfortunately, the world was far from perfect.
“So, is she a good kisser?”
Tom’s head shot up, narrowed eyes locking on Kevin’s too-innocent face. “I—that is—how did—uh—no comment.”
Kevin leaned back in his chair, smug grin firmly in place. “Yeah, I thought so. You’ve got it bad, my friend.”
“Open invitation,” Janet added. “You can bring her over to dinner any time.”
Tom handed her the salad bowl with a quelling look. As tempting as it sounded, there was no way Jessica Martin would ever be joining them for a family dinner.
Chapter Seven
“This totally blows!”
The strident voice sliced through the commotion of the end-of-school rush. Tom’s head lifted, instinctively searching out the source of the discontent.
Through the open entryway doors he could see a large group of students huddled next to the theater doors. The air around them practically shimmered with tension. Glancing briefly at the row of busses rumbling to life in the loading zone, he headed back into the building.
He felt like a salmon swimming upstream to spawn as he elbowed his way to the theater entrance. More students gathered around the edges of the original group, drawn to the angry tone of the original speaker.
A well-timed cough, a tap on the shoulder, and Tom’s presence was noted. The tight cluster slowly peeled apart like an onion, revealing a willowy blonde, her face currently pinched in an expression of anger and disgust.
“What seems to be the problem, Amber?” Tom stood directly in front of her, maintaining eye contact. The crowd slowly hushed.
Amber slapped her hand against the wooden door, indicating the typed list posted there. “This cast list is total crap, and I want that pitiful excuse for a drama coach fired.”
Tom looked at the list, then returned his gaze to the teen. “I don’t understand. You’re playing Juliet. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
She sucked in a deep breath and narrowed her eyes. “Of course I wanted to be Juliet. But there are five other Juliets on the stupid list. How can there be six Juliets in one play? The director is an idiot.”
A murmur started at the edges of the crowd, some girls nodding in agreement. Anger fed on anger, building the frustration of the group to a high pitch. Tom knew he had to defuse the situation, and fast.
He shrugged, leaning a shoulder against the thick wooden door. “Ms. Martin never said she would be directing a single play. The announcement was only for a Shakespeare show. You just assumed it would be Romeo and Juliet because she teaches freshman English.”
“That is so lame.”
Tom opened his mouth to reply, but another voice beat him to it.
“I’m sorry you feel that way.”
Tom turned abruptly at the sound of Jessica’s voice, as did the rest of the crowd. “The spring show is going to be a collection of scenes from Shakespeare’s best works. If you’re not happy with your part, feel free to decline the role. I’m sure I can find someone else to take it.”
She stood apart from the group, her chin up, doing a fair imitation of the totally in-charge director, unaffected by the anger that rolled off the crowd in an almost palpable wave.
Tom, who found himself studying her much too closely, knew better. He could see how tightly wound she was, how she was holding onto her composure by a thread. A slight tic pulsed at the edge of her jaw.
“Maybe this is something we should discuss privately,” Jessica offered. She stepped forward, only to be stopped by the crowd milling around.
Amber tossed her head, glaring daggers at Jessica. “You’re planning to do a clip show? So, what—each person gets to be on stage for five or ten minutes, tops? This is my senior year. I have had the lead in every production since I was a freshman. And you expect me to play the same part as half a dozen other girls? Get real.”
“It’s a good part in a good scene,” Jessica said, hands held tightly at her sides. “As there were over a hundred students who auditioned, I’m sure I’ll be able to find someone who is interested in participating in the show.”
“So now you’re giving my part away?” Amber screeched.
Tom stepped forward before the situation could get m
ore volatile. “Why don’t we continue this discussion in my office?”
Amber stalked through the crowd, slamming the office door open as she entered. Jessica gave Tom a tight-lipped smile as she followed. At the last moment, she turned back around and addressed the crowd.
“If anyone else has concerns about the spring show, please feel free to talk to me personally. It’s going to be a good show, and I really hope everyone on the cast list chooses to participate.”
And, squaring her shoulders, she slipped past Tom into the main office and headed for his office door.
Amber stood just inside the room, indignation vibrating from every pore. “I don’t know what there is to talk about. You’ve just screwed up my last high school production.”
“What’s the real problem here?” Tom asked. “Is it that the show isn’t traditional, or is it that you won’t be the star?”
Amber sucked in a breath, turning her angry gaze on Tom.
“I’ve seen you perform,” Tom continued. “You’re an excellent actress. But there are other students who would appreciate the chance to participate as well. Why can’t you share the spotlight?”
“And just what do you have to do with it? I don’t recall seeing your name on the audition notices. Oh, yeah, that’s right. You were helping Little Miss Clueless that first day. So the new drama director needs her boyfriend to fight her battles?”
Jessica sucked in a breath, eyes widening. Tom motioned her silent with a quick wave of the hand. “That’s enough. Ms. Martin and I are just colleagues—not that it’s any of your business. And the three of us are in my office dealing with this issue now because the hall was not an appropriate location for this discussion. I will not allow anyone to start a riot in this school.”
Amber glared at him, then whipped around to focus on Jessica. “Why are you even directing the spring play? You’re just a substitute.”
Tom caught the barest flicker of reaction in Jessica’s eyes before she responded. “You’re right, I’m on a long-term substitute contract for the district. And directing the play was part of that contract. I suppose there’s not much either of us can do about that.”
“Great.”
Jessica lifted her chin, a challenging look in her eye. “It appears that you have a decision to make. You can quit the show—not my first choice, but certainly your prerogative. You can take the part and decide to have a positive attitude about this. Or the next two months can be miserable. As far as I can see, the choice is up to you.”
Amber dropped into a chair, posture slumping in defeat.
“Like I said before,” Jessica added, “you’re not obligated to be in the show. I’m surprised that you don’t want the part though. Most young actresses would give their left arm to play the balcony scene.”
Amber’s lip curled in a sneer. “Fine. I’ll take the stupid part, but only because this will be my last high school show. I just hope this play isn’t as idiotic as it sounds.” With a final disgusted glare, she flounced out of the office.
Tom shook his head as Amber left. Some kids had to hold on to their anger, even when it wasn’t in their best interests. All in all, Jessica had handled the ambush well.
He turned to look at Jessica and decided to revise his opinion. Her face had paled, and a fine trembling was evident in her hands. The adrenaline of the confrontation had obviously disappeared.
“Here, sit down,” he said, pulling the rolling chair forward.
She sucked in a shuddering breath and lowered herself into the chair. “My brilliant plan seems to be winning friends and influencing people already.”
“She’s one kid.”
“And apparently the prima donna of the drama program. God, why didn’t someone tell me about her?” Her eyes squeezed shut and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “The next two months are going to be peachy.”
“You handled this situation nicely, despite being ambushed by the whole thing,” he said. “And now that you know there’s some discontent out there, you can prepare for the next incident.”
“Some discontent? She would have ripped my toenails out if given the chance.”
“So don’t wear open-toed shoes.”
Jessica laughed shakily. She reached a hand to the back of her neck, kneading the stiff muscles there. “Thanks for helping me out, Tom.”
“My pleasure.” They were both silent for a moment.
Jessica glanced at the opened door. “Do you mind if I hang out in here for a minute or two? I’d rather not face the lynch mob right now.”
“Of course,” he said. “In fact, I should go make sure they’ve dispersed. Make yourself at home.” With a crooked smile, he walked out of the office and closed the door.
Jessica leaned forward and rested her head in the palms of her hands. A small part of her wanted to curl up in a corner somewhere and cry. But that wasn’t an option.
She wasn’t normally the type to cry. She’d learned early on that tears were a sign of weakness, to be stifled as quickly as possible. A Martin did not dissolve in the face of stress—a Martin thrived on it.
Of course, as far as her parents were concerned, as soon as she announced her intention to become a teacher, all bets were off. You couldn’t get much weaker than a low-paying job in a helping profession.
But even their obvious and vocal disapproval of her choice hadn’t been enough to reduce her to tears. In fact, she had been relentlessly optimistic about becoming a teacher. Projects that reduced classmates to tears of frustration left her with a smile on her face and a can-do attitude. More than one acquaintance had referred to her as Pollyanna.
So what was it about her dream becoming a reality that turned on the waterworks?
The confrontation had caught her completely off-guard. She’d been so proud of her solution to the casting problem that she hadn’t considered any possible ramifications.
And now she had an angry, bitter teen in one of the most important roles.
Boy, this just kept getting better and better.
She’d thought her own high school drama performance had been the worst experience possible on stage. The spring play now seemed to be well on its way to surpassing that milestone.
She should have found a way to turn it down.
She didn’t need the job that badly, did she?
Jessica sighed, shaking her head. Yes, she did. Not just for the steady paycheck or the security. She needed to prove—to herself, as well as her family—that she could do it. She could be a good teacher, one who challenged and inspired and encouraged. She could make a difference.
First, however, she had to make sure Amber’s hostility didn’t infect the entire cast.
A soft knock on the door pulled her attention away from the whirl of depressing thoughts. “Come in,” she called.
“Jessica. Are you waiting for Tom specifically, or was there something I could help you with?”
Jessica closed her eyes briefly. Oh, today was just a peach of a day. “Hello, Celeste. No, everything’s fine. A student was unhappy with the casting of the spring play, so Tom gave us a quiet location to work it out. I’m just regrouping.”
Celeste entered the room and sat down. She leaned forward, both hands propped on her knees. “So the situation was resolved?”
“Absolutely.” Behind Tom’s desk Jessica crossed her fingers and hoped she wasn’t really fibbing. “Rehearsals start on Wednesday.”
“Excellent.” Celeste flashed a quick, distracted smile and stood up. “Stop by my office afterwards and let me know how it went. Oh, and I’ll be starting evaluations next week. Don’t be surprised to see me pop in during a class or two.”
Jessica nodded, gritting her teeth against the sudden tension headache gripping her.
“Well, I’ll see you Wednesday.” Celeste smiled once more and walked briskly out of the office, pulling the door shut behind her.
The sounds of the main office diminished, leaving a soft hum of background noise through the thick door. Jessica si
ghed, toying with a lone paperclip on the top of Tom’s desk. He was so organized he couldn’t even clutter effectively.
She needed some of that organization in her life. Since she’d started this job, her life seemed to be getting more and more stressful, what with the classes and the students and the play…
And Tom. When she was around him, her pulse raced, her breathing accelerated, her hormones rampaged. All her senses twirled and danced. Yes, Tom definitely left her feeling out of control.
A slight cough from the hall outside caught her attention. Tom pushed the door open, a soft smile playing at his lips. “Feeling better?” At her nod, he walked in and closed the door behind him.
The blinds on the picture window were half-shut, leaving strips of light to fall across the wide desk. Shadows of passing co-workers filtered through. The room was warm, cozy, intimate. Jessica swallowed.
“Everything okay out there?” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded thin, strained.
He was watching her, his eyes dark and intent. He nodded, his gaze never wavering. “Come on,” he said, extending his hand.
“Where?” There went her pulse again, beating a staccato rhythm against her ribs. Any more contact with Tom and she wouldn’t need a gym membership to increase her heart rate.
He just smiled, reaching out to pull her to a stand. In the dim light of the enclosed room she stumbled, bumping against Tom for the briefest of moments. The contact arced through her, leaving a trail of sensation from chest to knees.
Jessica stepped back, sucking in a deep breath. He held on to her hand as she retrieved her bag and purse, giving it a quick squeeze before dropping it as he opened the door. She watched him leave the office, casual expression giving no hint of the personal contact between them just moments before. She trailed in his wake, hoping her face wouldn’t give anything away.
They exited the building by the back hallway and stepped out into the waning light of a gray winter afternoon. Tom led her to his forest green Explorer, parked in the far corner of the small staff parking lot behind the old brick school. He unlocked the passenger door and held it open for her.
“Where are we going?” Jessica clutched her jacket tightly against the chill in the air. “I think I should probably drive myself.”
