The Talk of the Town

Chapter Five

Quinton entered the Peachtree Cove Elementary School gym and scanned the room. A dozen round tables with six chairs were scattered around the space. Other teachers, administrators and support staff from within the district milled about the room, searching for a place to sit. He typically received district information from the high school principal, but since there were going to be some district-wide changes, the superintendent had insisted all teachers attend one of two information sessions.

He didn’t mind attending district-wide training, but hated that this one happened right when he was in the heat of getting ready for the football season. He, Zachariah, and the other coaches agreed to split up attendance between the two meetings so that football practice wouldn’t have to be canceled. Even missing one day of practice was crucial while they tried to get the team ready for the season.

Deciding that he wasn’t eager enough to sit in the row of tables closest to the podium or disengaged enough to be one of the teachers filling up the back row of tables, he opted for a table near the middle. He peeled off the sticker name tag that he’d scribbled his name on and slapped it on his chest before heading toward his chosen section. He nodded and greeted some of the other teachers from the high school. He recognized many of the other people filling the space but there were also a lot of new faces.

Teachers rotated in and out of the district. Some coming to give back in a small town, or because they were more likely to have received college scholarships if they opted to work in a small district after graduation. After four years in the district, Quinton had to admit that Peachtree Cove felt like home. If he continued to have a successful season, he could see himself settling in Peachtree Cove for good.

“Hey, there he is!”

Quinton looked up from where he’d settled in his seat. No one looked his way, so they weren’t talking about him. The two women sitting at the next table pointed toward the door. Teachers at the middle school. He’d seen them at previous district-wide trainings. Curious about who’d made them so excited, he glanced in the direction they indicated. The guy standing in the doorway didn’t ring a bell. He must be a new teacher to the district. Which explained the excitement. Heaven help the guy if he was single. The single teachers would be all over him if he were. Quinton knew from experience.

“He is cute,” one of the women, Rachel he believed her name was, said.

“Yes, he is,” said the other woman, Gayle. He knew her from the spring break learning program they both volunteered for the previous year. “I wish he’d come to teach English at the middle school instead of the high school.”

Quinton shook his head and pulled out his cell phone to scroll through plays while he waited. Definitely a new teacher who’d gained the attention of the single population. Quinton would feel bad for the guy, but instead he was relieved. Even though Quinton couldn’t consider himself a new teacher anymore, once word got out last year that he’d broken things off with his girlfriend, he’d once again gotten on the radar of the women in town looking for a man. After ending the long-term relationship, he wasn’t in the mood to try to start something else. He didn’t envy the guy for what would come his way, but he couldn’t say he was sad about the distraction the guy would provide.

“Me too, but it doesn’t matter,” Rachel said on a sigh. “I heard he’s already hooking up with Halle.”

Quinton’s finger stopped midscroll and his head popped up. Halle? Halle Parker?

“Ms. Parker? For real?” Gayle asked, gleefully soaking up the potential gossip.

Rachel nodded. “Yep. They had dinner together at the Italian place a few weeks ago.”

Gayle scoffed and pushed Rachel’s shoulder. “Dinner doesn’t mean hooking up.”

“No, listen,” Rachel said and leaned closer to Gayle. Quinton leaned toward them, too. “It’s not just dinner. They’ve both been popping up at the same place for lunch every week. Not only did they have dinner, but they were seen together having coffee early the other morning. They’re hooking up.”

Gayle gasped before grinning. “You think so?”

Rachel nodded as if she had all of the latest information anyone needed to know on Halle and the new teacher. “Early in the morning. Why they having coffee that early, if you know what I mean?”

Quinton frowned and looked back at the man in question. Was that guy Halle’s type? Quinton studied him more closely. He looked like an English teacher with his fitted polo shirt, khakis and square-framed glasses. The guy reminded Quinton of his high school English teacher. The man who’d told Quinton he might as well quit after the first week of Honors English. That he’d be better off switching to the regular English class to avoid failing. Quinton had stayed and proved the man wrong by passing.

“Look, look, look,” Gayle said, tapping Rachel on the arm and pointing.

Quinton’s eyes narrowed as Halle came to the door. English teacher turned and smiled at her. Halle returned his smile with a bright one of her own. Her hair was twisted up in an intricate style with the top a mass of thick curls. English teacher motioned for her to go ahead of him and followed Halle farther into the room.

“See, he was waiting on her.” The smugness in Rachel’s voice was all Quinton needed to hear to know she felt vindicated in her assumption that they were hooking up.

Had the guy been waiting on Halle? Quinton shook his head. Wait—why was he worried about this guy waiting on Halle? This wasn’t his business. Who she did or didn’t hook up with didn’t matter to him.

Halle glanced around the room for a seat. Their eyes met. Quinton sucked in a breath. She was fine. The corners of her mouth tipped up in a tight smile before she quickly looked away. His breath came out in a quick rush. The hell? What was that about? He looked back down at his phone.

“And they’re sitting together,” Gayle practically squealed.

“What did I say? Hooking. Up,” Rachel replied knowingly.

Quinton focused on the plays on his phone. Halle wasn’t his type. She and the English teacher probably belonged together. Two judgmental people who could look at him and say he isn’t up to standard. Quinton shifted in his seat as decades-old insecurity crawled across his spine.

Damn, he’d really let Halle get under his skin that day in the bar. That had to be why he was overthinking this. Her adamant refusal that he wasn’t her type of guy had poked and prodded at not just his pride, but also an insecurity he hadn’t felt since graduating high school. If the woman could put him in knots with just a few words, he was better off not pursuing her. Which he couldn’t. Even if he wanted to.

“Coach, what’s up?”

Quinton looked up and nodded at Blake, the middle school’s soccer coach. “Nothing much.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Cool with me.”

Quinton forced Halle out of his mind and focused on the conversation with Blake about their expectations for the upcoming football season.

Halle clutched her information packet tight and sent up a silent prayer. They’d gotten through the introduction part of the district meeting and the superintendent had given the major updates related to the district. Now it was time for the group exercise. Halle loved group exercises. She enjoyed pulling a team together and completing whatever task they were assigned. Her team usually won or had the best presentation no matter who was in her group. She could usually find a way to work with anyone.

This time was different. This time she hoped, wished and prayed that the stars would align and put her in the same group as Gregory. Their dinner date had gone great; he’d even called her later that night with the title of the book he couldn’t remember the name of. They’d since met up for coffee and lunch a few times. Everything was going great with him. So much so, she was considering telling Shania that she was dating him. Otherwise, the town’s rumor mill would get it back to her daughter before she got the chance. She hadn’t missed the way a few nosey folks paid attention to them hanging together.

“Okay, everyone,” the superintendent, Dr. Stann Watts, said. He was a tall, heavy-set guy, with dark skin and a deep, booming voice. Instead of the suit he usually wore to district meetings he’d opted for casual with a pair of slacks and a gray button-up shirt. “Open your packets and see what color you have. Each color will split up into groups where we’ll pass out the instructions.”

Halle tore her packet open and snatched out the orange square. She quickly turned to Gregory sitting next to her, hoping he’d also have an orange square. He held a green square. Her heart sank.

“Dang, I’d hoped we’d be in the same group,” she said.

“It’s no big deal. I still got to sit with you today.” He smiled as he spoke the words and Halle returned the gesture.

Gregory was so nice and sweet. Even though they hadn’t kissed, she had a feeling when they did it would be amazing. Usually, she wasn’t overly eager to rush the physical side of a relationship, but she liked spending time with him and talking to him. His ability to have an conversation about literature had only stoked a fire beneath her long ignored libido. She wasn’t typically one to lose herself in daydreams of fairytales. Losing her parents taught her that life could be heartbreaking, but for the first time in a long time, she felt hopeful. She’d wanted more than one child, but after having Shania right before graduating college, she’d realized being a single parent was a lot of work. If things worked out with Gregory, her dreams of having more children wouldn’t be too late to realize.

“I guess we should find our groups,” she said.

They got up and made their way to the tables around the room with the various colors. Halle walked up to the orange table at the same time Quinton walked up holding an orange square. He was dressed like he did for football practice, in a pair of fitted joggers and a Peachtree Cove High School athletic shirt. The aviator glasses he liked were folded into the collar of his shirt. Of course, she’d end up in a group with him.

“Orange, huh?” she said, trying to hide her disappointment. She was able to work with anyone in a group. Even guys who insisted she was not their type.

He nodded. “Yep.” He sounded just as enthusiastic about being in a group with her as she did.

“Guess we’ll see how many others join our group.”

“Yep,” he agreed.

Halle fought not to roll her eyes. Was he only capable of one-word responses? They looked around and waited for others to come over. The crowd split up and people joined the other tables. No one else came to the orange table. Halle crossed her arms. There had to be someone else joining them.

Dr. Watts headed their way. He grinned and held out his arms. “We only had two orange tabs. We tried to break everyone up into groups of five but didn’t have enough. Instead of making an uneven group we decided to just have one group of two.”

“Wouldn’t we need more people in our group for the exercise?” Halle asked.

Dr. Watts shook his head. “Not at all. In fact, this exercise is about brainstorming ways to handle the biggest challenges you see in the upcoming year. We’re looking for ideas of ways the school and the district can support overcoming those obstacles. You two work together on that and then you can report back out to the larger group. Sound good?”

Quinton grunted then nodded. Dr. Watts beamed before looking at Halle. If Halle was anything she was a team player. She nodded and smiled.

“Great! I’ll let you two get to it.” Dr. Watts turned and walked away.

Halle glanced around the room at the various tables. Gregory was on the other side of the room. The one lone man at a table full of women. She sighed. Why couldn’t he have picked the other orange square?

“Are you two dating?”

Halle blinked and focused on Quinton. “Huh?”

He raised a brow and then nodded in the direction of Gregory. “You and the English teacher. Are you two dating?”

Halle lifted her chin. “That’s none of your business.”

Quinton pulled a chair out and sat down at the table. “According to the teachers in the middle school you two are hooking up.”

Halle gasped before sliding out the chair next to him and plopping down into the seat. “We’re not hooking up.”

“I just thought you should know. That’s what they’re saying.”

She crossed her arms on the table. “And you care about the gossip.”

He held up a hand. “I don’t care what you do.”

“Then why ask if we’re dating?”

He shrugged and then slid the papers with the instructions for the exercise over to him. “Forget I asked.” He scanned the first page and started reading. “Think about the upcoming school year and list what may prove challenging with the upcoming changes.”

Halle’s eyes narrowed on him. “We’re not dating.”

“Okay,” Quinton said before continuing to read. “Identify ways to overcome the challenges.”

“Not yet anyway.”

Quinton stopped reading. He lowered the paper to the table. “So, you want to date him?”

“I thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t, but you’re talking about it, so I guess you want me to care.”

“I don’t want you to care. You brought up the conversation and I’m finishing it.”

She reached for the instructions he’d put down and a pen. She read where he’d stopped. “One big challenge is making sure everyone understands the schedule change.”

“I guess he’s your type, huh?”

Halle sighed and met his gaze. His eyes were dark, piercing even, and they didn’t waver as they met hers. That was something she appreciated about him; he didn’t break eye contact when he spoke. He watched, listened. She’d at least give him that. Quinton Evans gave you his full attention when you spoke to him. Which could be considered attractive.

“If you must know, yes. He is my type.”

“Hmm.” He watched her for a second; she expected him to say more, but instead he slid over the legal pad on the table and a pen. “The new schedule is going to cause some problems. Parents who have to get to work early may drop off kids at the front door of the middle school now that middle school is starting at eight thirty instead of eight. For kids with special needs who will need to have someone at the school when they’re dropped off, this could cause some conflicts.”

Halle nodded. “That’s a good point.”

“You sound surprised that I’d make a good point?”

“Not surprised, just glad to see that you’re thinking outside of your box.”

He leaned an elbow on the table and met her eyes again. “It’s not outside of my box. My younger sister is a paraplegic and in a wheelchair. Back home our middle school started at eight and kids couldn’t be dropped off until seven fifteen. But my mom had to be at work at five and my dad didn’t get off work from his shift job until ten. So, she’d drop me off at the school with my sister and I waited with her until the teachers arrived.”

Halle’s face heated and her stomach twisted in knots. She was an asshole. “I’m sorry for assuming.”

He shrugged. “No need to be sorry for the facts of my life. I just know the change in schedule can have consequences others may not have considered.”

He looked down at the paper and wrote: have someone at the school to meet kids with special needs. His handwriting was bold and messy. Completely opposite of his neat and controlled appearance.

“What is your type?” she blurted out.

The words landed like a brick on the table between them. Heavy and awkward. She had no idea why she asked. She didn’t care about his type. Except, she would assume he was into supermodels and actresses because he was a former professional athlete. Just like she’d assumed he’d have neat handwriting or wouldn’t think of the school schedule outside of how it affected his football team. She might be wrong, and suddenly, she was curious to know more about Coach Quinton Evans.

He stared at her, a line between his brows and confusion in his dark eyes. Halle held up a hand to stop him from answering. “Forget I asked.”

“I don’t have a type,” he said right after.

Halle cocked a brow. “Does that mean you’re a man who dates all types of women?”

“I am someone who doesn’t limit his possibilities to a person that meets certain criteria. You never know what makes a person tick until you get to know them. Why would I say I only date women with X type of personality or who look a certain type of way, when someone who is completely different is the right person for me?”

She was once again surprised by his answer. “Are you serious?”

“I am. I’ve been underestimated my entire life. Why would I underestimate someone’s potential?”

Again, his gaze didn’t waver as he spoke to her. His deep voice resonated with truth and confidence. “You think I’m limiting myself by having a type?”

He lifted one broad shoulder. “Only you can answer that. But I mean if you rule out a guy simply because of some arbitrary trait then...yeah. Maybe you are.”

“Or, maybe I just know what I like and who I’m compatible with.”

“If that’s what you want to go with.”

“It is what I’m going with.” Damn, did she sound defensive? She did sound defensive.

He shifted forward in his seat. “Cool with me.”

“Good.” She pointed to the paper. “Let’s finish this.”

They worked through the exercises. When they were done, Quinton got up and went to the side table where snacks and bottles of water were placed while Halle finished writing up their comments. She watched him walk away and admitted she’d misjudged him. One bad situation with a football player and uncaring coach in high school and she’d been judging athletes ever since. Quinton continued to have good insights about the way the district wide changes would affect students and parents in the upcoming school year. Not only that, he’d had thoughtful ideas about ways to overcome them. She’d assumed that he wouldn’t take this seriously or be interested in working on the project. She’d painted Quinton with the wrong brush and that was on her.

Quinton came back to the table and put a bottle of water in front of her. Halle glanced at it and raised a brow. “For me?”

He nodded. “We talked a lot while working on this. My throat is dry so I figured yours may be, too. I got you these.” He slid a package of fruit snacks her way.

“Snacks, too?” She was thirsty, and she did need a sugar pick-me-up.

He slid back into his seat with a grace she wouldn’t have expected from a guy so big. “You eyed them when someone passed by with them while we worked.”

Heat filled her cheeks. He’d been paying that much attention to her? “I was going to get some.”

“Well, now you don’t have to. You want me to present our ideas?”

She shook her head. “Nah, I can do it. I don’t mind.”

“Suit yourself.” He opened a pack of peanut butter crackers and took a bite.

“I’m sorry.”

He frowned. “For what?”

“For assuming that you wouldn’t judge Shania fairly. She says you’re not like that.”

He finished chewing then took a sip from his bottled water. “I’m not like that. I remember what it was like to be overlooked in high school just because I wasn’t what the coach or teacher expected I should be. Because I remember that, I don’t want the kids I come in contact with to feel that way. I want them to know that I judge them for what they do, not what they look like or where they come from.”

“You were judged about where you came from?”

Quinton met her eyes. For the briefest moment he appeared uncomfortable, vulnerable. The timer went off, indicating the group exercise was done. In that quick second his calm, confident demeanor returned, and he focused his attention back to Dr. Watts, who’d stood.

Halle hated the interruption. She wanted to finish their conversation. To learn more about Quinton Evans. She had to add thoughtful to the things she’d learned about him. He didn’t have to bring her water and fruit snacks. He was also insightful. He was turning out to be an interesting person, and, heaven help her, Halle was always drawn to learn more about interesting people.