Chapter 9 #2
"So, back to Dr. Tall, Blond, and Complicated," Harriet says, not missing a beat. "Maybe he's just nervous around you. He doesn’t strike me as the warm and fuzzy type."
I sigh heavily. "I don't know what his problem is. All I know is that I can't keep doing this dance where he kisses me like his life depends on it, then bolts for the door."
"Then don't let him," Harriet says simply. "Next time, block the exit. Make him talk to you. Tackle him to the ground if you have to."
I chuckle at that. Just the image of me, all five foot three, tackling the tall and broad-shouldered elven doctor to the ground to force him to talk to me. It feels good to laugh about it.
"I'm not sure there will be a next time, but if there is, I’ll be sure to take your advice into consideration."
"Oh, there will be," Harriet says confidently. "That man is completely crazy about—"
She cuts off abruptly, her eyes widening as she looks toward the door. I turn to find Principal Braggstone's massive frame filling the doorway. His gray-green face is closed off, and he watches me with a frown.
The silence that follows is thick with tension. How long has he been standing there? How much did he hear?
"Principal Braggstone," I say, trying to sound normal. "Good morning."
"Maeve. Harriet." His deep voice rumbles through the small office as he steps inside. His movements are deliberate as he approaches my desk, the floorboards creaking under his weight.
Harriet slides off my desk, gathering her coffee cup. "I should get back to my classroom. The little monsters will be arriving soon."
She shoots me a meaningful look as she leaves, closing the door behind her.
Principal Braggstone pulls up the chair opposite my desk, which groans in protest as he settles his bulk into it. He smells of cologne that's a touch too strong, something woodsy and overpowering. He also looks at me like a naughty student.
I refrain from telling him to stand up and leave.
"How are we progressing with the Pixie-Pox situation?" he asks, his tone professional but with an undercurrent I can't quite miss. The memory of what happened in the parking lot the night of the parent-teacher conference is still vivid in my mind and I eye him carefully.
"We've prepared a preventative tonic," I explain, gesturing to the bottles. "If we can get it to all the children who were exposed before they develop symptoms, we might be able to contain the outbreak only to those who are already affected."
"Good, good." His eyes linger on the bottles, then return to me. "And Dr. Reizenhart has been helpful with this?"
Something in his tone puts me on edge. "Yes, very."
"I heard about his house call last night."
My stomach drops. News travels fast in Saltford Bay, but this is ridiculous.
"We were working on the tonic formula," I say carefully. "Not that it’s anyone business what I do in my own house."
Principal Braggstone leans forward, his chair protesting again. "Maeve, I hope you don't mind me speaking frankly. You know I care about your well-being."
I nod, though wariness creeps up my spine.
"People like Dr. Reizenhart never stay in places like Saltford Bay." His voice takes on a concerned, almost fatherly tone that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Elves always return to their courts, eventually. It's in their nature."
A chill runs through me at his words. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"I mean, he's slumming it here, Maeve. Playing small-town doctor until something more fitting of his status comes along." He shrugs his massive shoulders. "It's what they do."
I want to argue, to defend Lorian, but the words stick in my throat. Is this why he ran away after kissing me? Because he’s slumming it with the small-town human nurse?
How much do I really know about him? About his past, his reasons for coming to Saltford Bay? Principal Braggstone must see the doubt on my face because he nods, as if I've agreed with him.
"Don’t put your trust in someone like him," he says, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder. His fingers squeeze slightly, the pressure just shy of uncomfortable. "I'd hate to see you hurt."
I resist the urge to shrug off his hand. "I appreciate your concern, but Dr. Reizenhart and I have a strictly professional relationship."
His smile doesn't reach his eyes, and he removes his hand.
"Of course."
He rises from the chair, which sighs with relief. At the door, he pauses, turning back to me.
"Don't forget the staff appreciation dinner this weekend. Will you be bringing a date?"
The question hangs in the air, loaded with implication. Is he asking me out? Or fishing to see if I'll bring Lorian?
"I haven't decided," I answer neutrally.
After he leaves, I slump back in my chair, his words echoing in my mind. People like Lorian Reizenhart never stay in places like Saltford Bay.
I pick up one of the tonic bottles, remembering the intensity in Lorian's eyes just before he kissed me. The way he looked at me like I was the center of the universe. Then I remember how quickly he pulled away, how he ran without explanation.
What if Principal Braggstone is right? What if Lorian is just passing through? What if I'm just a temporary distraction for him?
No. I set the bottle down with more force than necessary. I'm done with guessing games and what-ifs.
The next time I see Dr. Lorian Reizenhart, I won't let him run away until I get some answers.
Even if I have to tackle him to the ground to get them.