Based on Principal: Fanboys Book 3

by Johnston, Marie

  Right. He didn’t have the money to fight Nana and Papa.

  He thought about the career he’d left behind, one he’d worked his ass off for and now barely thought about. “I guess sometimes we have to move with the needs of our family.” He almost said, Maybe it works out for the better, but that didn’t seem comparable in her case.

  “Yes. And my parents weren’t tolerant of outside pursuits based on fictional worlds and characters. But acceptance into extracurricular activities wasn’t easy when I was the granddaughter of the founder and the daughter of the owner. I didn’t have the skill or the charisma to win over the other kids.”

  Thus the mask she put on for everyone else, including Valaria and Shaw Shank.

  He stacked his plate on hers. They’d hardly dented the food, but he wasn’t ready to ditch their talk to clean up. “When I transferred to the school, I had the people skills and it didn’t matter. I hated leaving my friends, but it was nice to just play and have a little more one-on-one attention in the classroom.”

  She stared at him, her mind whirring in those solid brown eyes. “Do you think your scholarship was necessary?”

  “I was a better player than the rest of the team, so yeah, since they wanted to improve, they needed me. But my parents couldn’t have afforded a private school, so the scholarship was necessary. Did it help prep me for college? I have no doubt. But that didn’t mean I could afford the Ivy League education my classmates got. And I might’ve been good at high school ball, but I wasn’t good enough to score a full ride to one of those schools.” He waved it off. “I was a proud Gopher, but I was relegated to rec ball if I wanted to play. I got a good education, so it all worked out.”

  Her lips pursed. “That’s the thing. Preston Academy’s traditional attitude equates sports skill with professional success, and they’ve poured so much money into their football, basketball, lacrosse, and rowing programs—and except for the girls basketball team they only started ten years ago, they’re all male dominated.”

  Ah yes. Jaycee mentioned the same observations. She’d played volleyball in middle school, but Preston didn’t have a team. Then there was the lack of fine arts options at the school.

  “It’s going to be a hard attitude to change,” he said.

  Natalia snorted. “You’re telling me. I dropped the idea of incorporating a general art track, starting with a basic visual arts class next fall and…” She rolled her eyes. “But to do that, we’d need to reallocate money and the football coach is out trying to recruit two players for full rides. Four years of tuition times two and we could have started two classes and sent the teachers to additional training. Not to mention that after the last principal’s embezzling, I think we should suspend all attempts at recruitment until we get through the full fallout.”

  “I thought the board hired you to make those changes.”

  She reached for her water and took a sip, then washed down a larger mouthful like she found the whole discussion sour tasting. “Oh yes. But once the parents catch wind, they attack the school board. Some of them are friends or run in the same social circles. The last school I was at, they held strong, but my suggestions weren’t quite as radical. This time, the guy I just replaced did a number on the school. It’s ugly.”

  “I’m sorry” was all he could say. He didn’t envy her job.

  “How about we don’t talk about work or my parents anymore?”

  “Deal. I have something I want to ask you.” Her answering grin was cautious, and it should be. He wasn’t sure how she’d take what he asked. “Arcadia is having their Christmas party the weekend before New Year’s. Care to join me? Jaycee will be going as well.”

  Natalia didn’t respond right away. His heart sank at her lack of enthusiasm. They were dating. Sort of officially. He wanted to do more than sit on the couch and watch movies, or take turns fucking at each other’s place once a month.

  “We have it after-hours on a Saturday,” he explained. “Close the store, have the food catered, and just talk and play games without having to stop to help customers.”

  She nodded slowly. Was she coming around to the idea? “That’s a few weeks away. Who all is going to be there?”

  “All of us employees and our families, some close customers who’ve helped with the business, and the guy that built the place will bring his family. I dunno, maybe twenty people. It’s pretty informal. Fun, but informal.”

  “Can I let you know closer to the day?”

  It was three weeks away. “I might have to ask the other deadly derby assassin I’m dating.”

  Her chuckle was the most genuine response he’d had from her since her orgasm. “My parents haven’t informed me of their plans for Christmas. They might be coming here, or I might fly to Seattle. If I’m around, I’d love to go.”

  He read between the lines. If she was around, and they weren’t, then she’d go. It wasn’t the answer he’d hoped for, but he’d take it. Extending the invite to her parents was on his lips, but his intuition suggested he wasn’t ready for her reaction. He should be used to not being good enough for the families of Preston Academy.

  Chapter 11

  Natalia stared at the message on her phone. Can you make it?

  Arcadia’s Christmas party. And her parents were in town. They didn’t plan to fly out until after the new year. They were the reason she’d spent the last week of holiday break at work. Thankfully, they’d stayed at a hotel—room service and housekeeping. But she couldn’t escape her dad at work, either.

  He was wandering the empty halls of Preston while she ran numbers for a fine-arts track versus the number of full-ride scholarships they had to satisfy. Father was probably gloating over the trophies proudly displayed across from the main entrance. He’d no doubt comment on how they’d gone down over the last few years.

  She would point him to the former principal, but she had no plans to pursue any regional, district, or state trophies—participation ribbons weren’t even on her agenda. Her main concern was getting the school to be less reliant on the donations and the insinuations that came with them, and that meant cutting down on the sports scholarships and working with the talent of current and prospective students. Not recruited students.

  When she’d approached the board before Christmas break with the outline of her plan, they’d stared at her like she was proposing to recruit super villains to fight crime—until she’d whipped out the figures the new accountant had come up with for her.

  Next month, she planned to offer up a list of opportunities they could provide to the students with the funds they did receive from the families and estates of former alums. Fine-arts courses. Study abroad. Exchange programs. She knew which ones she preferred and which ones would appeal to the school board, and unfortunately, they weren’t the same.

  Her office door opened and her dad strolled in. One hand was stuffed in his charcoal slacks. He was dressed casually today with a cream, cowl-neck, cashmere sweater and a maroon undershirt for a pop of subdued and acceptable color. His trimmed salt-and-pepper hair was cropped short and his stern expression was relaxed for once. He’d gotten the same educational background as her but had never taught a day in his life—like her. He’d spent most of his time traveling from school to school to wine and dine those with deep pockets and make sure their bottom line was satisfied. Her mother’s schooling had been forgotten, her role relegated to charming hostess with a well of intelligence. Mom was the epitome of the refined and well-bred woman donors wanted their daughters to become or wanted their sons to marry.

  Meanwhile, Natalia had been relegated to their home in Seattle, being raised by hired employees. What a goal.

  “It’s a fine establishment.” Her father’s voice had dropped low, and sometimes she wondered if it was an affectation. When he conversed with her mother, he didn’t have a deep voice. Within the school walls—baritone.

  “Yes. It has good bones.”

  His small frown made her regret not enthusiastically agreeing. �
��Did you know a graduate from a decade ago is in the senate?”

  Her heart seized. Was he talking about Chris? No. Chris’s time was more than a decade in the past, and his election as a state senator wouldn’t impress her father enough.

  “I’m not surprised.” Natalia snagged her glasses off her desk and dropped them in a drawer before Father asked when she’d started wearing them. If he noticed. He wouldn’t approve of her needing something other than her last name and good breeding to be taken seriously.

  “His picture is in the trophy case. He was quarterback, went on to play at West Point, and is now a senator.” Pride rang in Father’s voice, like he was taking credit for the kid’s experience at the academy. What did he tell people about her?

  She had never played sports, but she’d sewn her own costume for Halloween once, closed up in her closet while her parents slept—if they were home. Too bad she hadn’t gotten to wear it. Her mother had asked Wonder Who? and made her change before the black-tie Halloween party. Would he say, She went to college in Washington and is a principal now. She has to wear glasses when she talks to men or they take a few points off her IQ and think she’s too young to take seriously. The dimple—it throws them off.

  Natalia needed to go to bed early tonight. She’d been defaulting to her alter ego less and it showed in her bitchy internal monologue. Father was proud of her. She was the fixer, after all—not that he admitted any of the schools had faults, only that she improved on perfection.

  Chris was waiting for her answer. Looking at the time, she still had a nice window to get home, change, and meet him at Arcadia. It all depended on what Father and Mother were going to do.

  Thankfully, Father didn’t make her wait long. “An old classmate’s in town. He and his wife invited us to their place tonight. I’m sure you’re fine with what you’re wearing, but we could head to the hotel to pick your mother up.”

  Tan slacks, red pumps, and a red sweater that shouldn’t itch so much for what it cost? Yeah, she’d loved to socialize in this outfit.

  She really wanted to see Chris. Hell with it. “I have plans tonight.” Father raised his neatly trimmed brows. Was he surprised? “Are you and Mother okay without me?”

  The familiar disapproving frown pulled at Father’s mouth. “I think William would love to hear what’s going on with the academy. His sons are your age, and he’s anxiously awaiting for his grandchildren to attend.”

  “You can fill him in.” Surprise flickered across Father’s face. It wasn’t usual that she breezed past his wishes. “But I committed to a holiday party with a friend before you and Mother called. I’d hate to go back on my word.”

  Father used to love saying A man’s word is all he has. She used to mentally fill in unless he has money but she never dared say it out loud. Her parents thought of bank accounts as a measure of prestige.

  “Very well. We will grab you for brunch tomorrow and I’ll pass on any ideas William has for the school.”

  Yes, because who else would know better what the academy needed than someone who hadn’t done more than write annual checks and have drinks with the owner?

  Please. But she was off the hook for tonight. As she gathered her purse and phone, she shot back a confirmation to Chris.

  Her phone pinged when she was locking up her office. Father was well on his way down the wide corridors to the staff entrance. She peeked at the message, not bothering to hide the smile she got when hearing from Chris in any form. Even better, she’d spend the evening with him and his friends. She hadn’t officially met any of them, but from his stories she could probably identify each one. Even better, they didn’t care what her profession was or how frivolous her interests were. She didn’t have enough people like that in her life.

  Great. Pick up you at seven?

  She paused. He wanted to pick her up. Then he’d drop her off and probably come inside because maybe he was just as desperate for her touch as she was for his. It’d been three weeks since they’d last had sex and while just seeing him was nice enough, the thought of spending time in his arms catapulted this school break to the best one ever.

  She punched in a reply, Seven it is, and rushed to catch up with Father.

  They parted ways at the parking lot. Father needed to change and Mother was probably in her Louboutins and pearls, with a pencil skirt two inches past her knees, and her outfit accented in red or green to be properly festive.

  Natalia rushed home and sprinted through the shower. She toweled off and dried her hair into a sleek, straight do, then went to stand at her closet, frowning. What should she wear? Since when had she worried about her attire? Sweats to derby practice. Valaria to cons. The same clothes she wore to work also served for meetings, and she dressed like Mother if she had to suffer through any stuffy social function. Her current what-to-wear conundrum was whether or not to upgrade Valaria or come up with a new character altogether because it gave her an excuse to bust out her sewing machine.

  Leggings, leggings, or jeans? What if she should wear slacks? No, she’d never seen Chris in anything but jeans. Her heart pattered when she pictured him in a snug suit, tailored to his tall, lanky, but muscular frame. No wonder he’d gotten elected to office. Dressed up, he would’ve appealed to the politically driven crowd and the folks who were invested in politics but too busy to deal with the bullshit.

  And none of that gave her ideas. The party was at Arcadia. Racks of pop culture clothing ran through her mind. They couldn’t be too formal.

  Butterflies flitted through her stomach as she stepped into black leggings. Next, she selected a long, cream-colored sweater. Holding it up, she lifted a brow. Was she channeling her father in this outfit? She couldn’t deny his confidence in any setting.

  The doorbell rang. Damn, he was early. She tossed on the sweater and stuffed her feet into supple knee-high brown boots.

  Scurrying down the stairs, she swore as she passed the clock. Had she wasted that much time worrying about what to wear?

  She could call Valaria her alter ego, but she was a made-up character with one outfit.

  Whipping the door open, she grinned and froze. Out of the corner of her eye, Chris’s car was visible in her driveway. Jaycee was climbing into the back seat. So, no sex tonight. She’d forgotten it wasn’t the grandparents’ weekend.

  But a night with Chris and Jaycee was better than any other.

  Her gaze landed back on him. His winter coat was zipped, but he wore his usual jeans. Only instead of athletic shoes, loafers were on his feet. Quality footwear, probably a throwback to his young, single, professional days.

  “You look good,” he said, the gleam in his eyes clear. If they didn’t have an underage chaperone, he would’ve slept over tonight.

  “Thanks. Let me grab my coat.” She darted around the door to the closet. Her hand paused over her dressy, long, black coat. Too much?

  Why did standing out in Chris’s crowd bother her?

  She selected her North Face winter coat instead. Its powder-blue shell with white insert and accents didn’t go with her attire, but she had warm mittens in the pockets. Practical. Just like Valaria—with three extra layers.

  She hopped into Chris’s toasty vehicle.

  On the way to the store, Jaycee leaned into the gap between the front seats. “What’d the board say?”

  Natalia caught herself before she went Um… Putting on her principal persona, albeit slightly softened, she answered, “I’m approaching them next month. I don’t know that their priorities align with what we have outlined, but perhaps we can find middle ground.”

  Chris glanced toward her. His jaw was tight and his eyes dark. He read between the lines.

  Jaycee sat back. “Awesome. It’d be such a cool course track. And wouldn’t a graphic-art class be a welcome break between AP English and International Business Concepts?”

  Jaycee was in neither class, but hypothetically, yes, it’d be a nice break. In the girl’s mind, she equated art with easy. It came to her natu
rally. Natalia would’ve relished an art or literature class, but her mind was naturally geared toward international marketing techniques and political science.

  Who’d Jaycee get her talent from?

  To change the subject before Jaycee’s hopes rose as high as Tony Stark’s tower, she asked what they’d been doing for vacation. They chatted until the beacon that was Arcadia lit up the night.

  Green lights lined the front windows of the store and a massive evergreen tree took center stage, lit in red. Natalia had been in last week to update the roller derby flier and grab more face paint—and get costume ideas for her next cosplay creation. The tree had the best ornaments. Mara and Chris had to have bought out the state in superhero-themed ornaments.

  After they parked and rushed in from the cold, another tree graced the entrance. It had been loaded with ornaments that listed a charity and a dollar amount. The tree was bare, except for red-and-blue garland. Justice League or Captain America colors?

  “Ooh, all the donations were taken?” Natalia unzipped her coat as warmth surrounded her in spicy fragrant air. The catering had arrived and her stomach rumbled in response to the savory smells.

  “A lot.” Chris held his hand out for her coat. She shrugged out of it. “Wes took the rest.”

  “Wow. That was nice.” And she’d only taken one. She could’ve filled the requests of the whole tree, too. Why hadn’t she thought to offer?

  Jaycee raced by them, a sketch pad clutched in her hand, and disappeared around the corner. A chorus of voices greeted her. How many people were here?

  Chris chuckled. “Flynn’s sister Lynne enjoys Jaycee’s work. And Jaycee enjoys showing it off.”

  “It’d be a shame to keep it private.” Natalia steeled her shoulders. Chris wound his arm around her waist and steered her toward the party.

  She was going to tremble out of her boots. Where were her unshakeable nerves? She wore skintight costumes in public. With a mask, but still. She careened around a track and elbowed other women out of her way. She stared down mutinous kids and their imposing parents.