Emma
“Ilike your son.” The words bubbled past my lips like someone had given me the most potent truth serum available and was laughing in the wings as I blabbed my deepest secrets. Pressing my elbow against the solid Formica table in the coffee shop, I massaged my left temple in soothing circles, silently urging the headache to stay at bay for a little while longer.
“Wait. Hang on. I mean, I like all your sons. You did such a great job raising them, and the fact that you include me in so many family dinners and traditions means so much. So, of course, I like your sons. All four of them.”
Bev chuckled and reached across the table, laying her hand on mine. That simple gesture made my throat ache, as tears threatened to track down my cheeks. With a quick shake of my head, I recoiled and covered my mouth, trying to stifle the sob that escaped.
The dark roast drip coffee I’d ordered while waiting for Bev had lost its appeal, and I pushed it away. Bev pursed her lips, returning the hot coffee to its place in front of me and taking a drink of her iced matcha.
“Should we order pastries?” she asked, glancing at the large chalkboard behind the counter that listed the daily specials. “I feel like this conversation requires sugar, and you’re looking a little peaky.”
“Sugar? No. Nope. Perhaps a sedative, if this place offers those kinds of things, but not sugar. It’s all I’ve lived on for the last twenty-four hours, and my body might rebel if I have any more.”
“Oh, honey. I’m so glad nothing came up at work today so you wouldn’t have to cancel our breakfast date. Don’t worry, we’ll get you straightened out. And just so you know, I may be their mother, but I know my sons can be raging asshats at times.”
I smiled, not raising my eyes but letting the warmth of her words wash over me, heating my insides better than the hottest cup of coffee. Chancing a look at the poised woman I admired, Bev returned my smile, shaking her head as she rose from her chair and slung her purse over her shoulder. “Perhaps a fruit cup or overnight oats. Don’t worry, I know to stay away from dairy.”
She patted my hand and turned to the counter. I watched her review the menu, putting her hands on her hips as she waited. Perhaps I should have canceled our weekly breakfast date because of my sour mood, but a little voice whispered this morning as I put on my chunky turquoise earrings, matching them with a bright suit jacket, that I was done canceling plans with people I cared about for work.
Even if there weren’t—thankfully—breakfast events for staff members to attend, the idea that I was so discombobulated with work that I’d considered canceling my standing plans with Bev was discouraging—and needed to stop.
Dinner dates with Bev and the boys at her condo. Drinks with the girls. That book club I was invited to but never managed to attend. What had missing those gotten me? Not a promotion. Not a thank you. Nothing but heartburn, ten pounds, and aggravation.
My priorities were out of whack and needed a hard reset. I ran a hand through my hair, untangling a curl beside my ear before taking a sip of coffee. The warm liquid flowed to my stomach, sending warmth throughout my body—almost like a physical sign that adjusting my priorities was the right call.
After deleting those ridiculous, useless dating apps, I exuded this intense feeling of contentment—something that had not been present in my life for months and further solidified that I’d finally gotten my head out of my ass and made the right decision.
Until Miller ruined everything.
Nope.
I shook my head, knowing I was to blame just as much, if not more, than he was.
Yes, his comments were awful, but mine were just as bad, leaving us in a place where my head felt like scrambled eggs, and my body was weighed down and sluggish. I glanced at Bev, who was pointing to the extensive menu behind the counter and nodding. The headache forming behind my eyes seemed placated by the coffee, and I took another sip and glanced out the window, watching the cars and people as they passed the cafe.
“Here, sweetie. Fruit bowl with acai. Avocado toast on multigrain bread, and overnight oats with honey and walnuts.”
She placed the food on the table, thanking the employee behind who helped carry our breakfast over. Bev had a chocolate croissant and a fruit smoothie, pushing her matcha to the side and taking a drink before arching one manicured eyebrow my way and waiting.
My stomach decided now was the right time to let out a loud grumble, and Bev chuckled, motioning to the food.
“Thank you,” I said, adding salt and pepper to the toast before taking a bite. I moaned, closing my eyes, and was so grateful Bev seemed to know exactly what I needed.
“Of course. Now, do you want to tell me what’s going on? I assume one of my sons did something to put you in such a state. I know work hasn’t been fantastic, but I can’t see you this distraught over a job.”
“You are far too observant,” I mumbled, gathering my thoughts and breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. “Work has been tense, and things with Miller have gone from friendly to absurdly complicated.”
“Hmm,” she said, stirring the straw in her smoothie.
“We had sort of a standstill last week.”
“Right. When my neighbor, Cam, fell. I heard Miller grumbling to Magnum about leaving your house in a rush,” she said, stirring her matcha before taking a drink.
“Sort of,” I said, relaying the not-great decision-making skills both of us exhibited since the kiss.
“Then, last night—” My voice trailed off into silence as I took a large gulp of coffee. “Last night at a work event, I said some things, and so did he. Now, I don’t know where we stand, and that scares me more than finally admitting how much I like him.”
I jerked the fruit closer and aggressively speared a strawberry with my fork, chewing it quickly and moving to take my anger out on the innocent cantaloupes.
“Oh, honey,” Bev said, breaking off a piece of her croissant and chewing. “I can’t imagine how tough everything has been for you lately. Miller’s been a mess as well.”
“He has?” I asked with a piece of cantaloupe partway to my mouth. “I mean, I’d hoped—wait. No. I’d never hope he was a mess.”
“You know, Emma, Miller was so disappointed when he had to leave your place last weekend.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said, a pain of guilt stabbing its way between my third and fourth rib. I dropped the fork, rubbing my breastbone and shaking my head. “But him leaving finally made me understand how he must have felt all those times when I’d canceled plans with him.”
“Well, sometimes that’s what it takes for us to see what’s been right in front of us,” Bev said, breaking off and eating another piece of her pastry.
“Agreed, but now that I know what I want, who’s to say he still wants the same thing?”
“Hmm.” She pushed the overnight oats closer. I switched the fork for a spoon and dug in, tasting the delicious honey. The food did more for my mood than any amount of sleep could, and I sighed, knowing how stupid it was to forgo self-care for self-deprivation.
“Perhaps an honest conversation is in order.”
“And an apology,” I said, sticking my spoon in the oats and pushing the food away before pulling the coffee closer.
“Both of you are too hard on yourselves. So, just talk it out and be better together.”
“It seems so easy when you say it like that.” I chuckled, wrapping my fingers around the warm mug of coffee.
“Oh, honey. There is nothing easy about love, but once you realize you have it, things will only get better.”
My morning passed quickly once I arrived at the academy after that enlightening breakfast. It was filled with the usual gophering and filing, but the tediousness I once felt wasn’t present. This job, exactly how I had it, wasn’t the most fulfilling, but I was making a difference, improving lives, and taking the strain off teachers who wouldn’t normally be given the opportunity for breaks and assistance.
What more could I ask for? Some were lucky enough to begin a career right out of college, and others didn’t find it until much later. Was there some unwritten rule that said I had to have a promotion by a particular age?
I took my coffee from where it rested on the corner of my desk and twitched my nose when I realized it was no longer hot. I wiggled my computer mouse on my desk to wake up the monitor, knowing I’d need to grab another cup before afternoon lessons.
“It’s nice to see such an admirable work ethic,” Headmaster Hopkirk said, leaning against the doorframe of my office.
I squeaked, putting my hand on my chest and crinkling my brows before pushing my blue-light glasses to the crown of my head and meeting his eyes. One leg was crossed over the other, and his lips were turned up in a way that was supposed to be a smile. On him, the emotion was far closer to a sneer. Under his heavy gaze, I stood, smoothing down my blouse before motioning for him to step inside.
He eyed the small office, looking at the certificates on the wall before focusing on the half-drunk, cold cup of coffee on the corner of my desk with a mauve lipstick stain. I clasped my hands in front of my stomach to keep from snatching the ceramic cup away or obsessively organizing the papers that cluttered the desk. He stepped inside but away from my desk, straightening his tie and sitting at the small table perpendicular to the desk.
The snub was clear. He would not put himself across from me while I sat at my desk. Instead, he’d chosen a neutral location, knowing I’d follow. I rolled my eyes at his back, watching as he ran his fingers over the sides of his hair, smoothing down the short strands—as if any would be out of place.
“How has your day been, sir?” I asked, sitting at my round table across from him and crossing my legs. My office didn’t have a sterling silver tea set, complete with sugar cubes and freshly sliced lemons, but I should offer a beverage. The staff lounge was nearby, and our instructors were all known for their caffeine addiction, so it was kept well stocked.
The headmaster steepled his fingers, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward, pinning me with his eyes.
“Could I prepare a tea for you? Or coffee?” His head barely moved, declining the offer as we lapsed back into uncomfortable silence. I hated that I needed to fill the quiet, obsessively thinking of neutral topics of conversation.
“I do need to thank you for the opportunity to assist the upperclassmen with their research projects. We spent some time charting subjects and then cross-referencing those with current and historical events.”
He removed his thin, wire-framed glasses and placed one end in his mouth, clicking the metal against his teeth. I tapped my foot on the carpet in time with his movements, feeling like I was being examined under a microscope and found wanting. I crossed one foot over the other, and I wiggled in my seat, growing more uncomfortable by the second.
I should learn how to play this game, how to thrive in the silence, but another part of me didn’t want to play—shouldn’t have to play.
Right?
“No, thank you. I’ll have Mary Ann prepare a cup when I return to my office. And I’m sure our librarian appreciated the assistance with the older students. She’s under the impression there hasn’t been a significant world event since Desert Storm.”
I pursed my lips, taking a page out of his book and choosing uncomfortable silence instead of rattling off twelve ways I could improve the library without setting foot inside the doors.
“You being so versatile is certainly an asset, even if your choice of company at our evening events leaves something to be desired.” He chucked, unbuttoning his jacket and adjusting his tie.
“My company, sir?” I said, continuing to wring my hands in my lap.
“Yes. Normally, I’d be put out that you chose to leave early, but when I saw your paramour arrive in such ghastly attire, I excused the behavior immediately, knowing you’d left to thoroughly chastise him for his behavior.”
My mouth opened once. Twice. Three times, as I let his words sink in.
“It wasn’t from embarrassment, sir. Well, not all embarrassment, I suppose. The night was dragging on, and I was tired. Miller’s arrival happened to coincide with my departure.”
My honesty must have surprised him because his eyes widened before his face melted into its usual scowl. Perhaps not a scowl, more like a barracuda that had scented blood in the water and was circling its prey, taunting it before moving in for the kill.
“Dragging on? Those are part of your responsibilities, Miss James.”
I sighed, remembering the same dozen staff members who attended these events. It was always the same people, the same conversations, the same guests pushing checks of various amounts ending with zero into the headmaster’s eager hands.
Something didn’t add up.
“Hmm. Well, I’m glad you stopped by, Headmaster, as I’ve been wondering what the exact requirements of these after-school events are. More often than not, I’m canceling plans with friends and family to accommodate the academy, and I can’t see that as an acceptable long-term solution.”
His eyebrows raised somewhere north of his receding hairline, like he’d never heard someone question his motivations. Perhaps no one had, and he needed a moment to think of an excuse that didn’t sound like a petulant parent saying, ‘Because I said so.’
“The exact requirements are whatever I deem them to be,” he said, adjusting the cufflinks on his right hand. “And I deem that you attend each and every one we have. Consider it an ongoing penance for bringing that man to one of our esteemed events. He tracked mud into the ballroom with his dirty work boots.”
He stared, almost daring me to disagree. I replayed his words, too stunned at what he said to form a response without considering my options. Whatever doubt I had about my future with this academy was blown to smithereens as he sat across from me, a Cheshire-like grin spread across his features like we’d been playing chess, and he’d just exclaimed, “Checkmate.”
“I respectfully disagree, sir,” I said, brushing my hands along my skirt to displace the nervous energy. “This job has taken over my life. All in the hopes that I’d obtain a position I’m not sure I want anymore.”
“Don’t be silly—”
“Oh, I’m not, sir. Far from it. Obtaining this position has caused me undue stress and has taken away time from people I care about.”
“I suppose I could limit your events to only a handful a month as long as you find better company than that man who showed up in the ballroom wearing a baseball cap.”
“That wasn’t a comment to open the floor for negotiation, sir. I’m not sure I want to work for someone who is so easily influenced by outside sources.”
“Ah,” he said, running his thumb over a deep scratch on the table. “Your father—”
“Has no bearings on my ability to do my job or apply for a new one, sir.”
“He, not unlike myself, Miss James, only wants what’s best for you.”
“I thank you for the concern, but this job seems to be the last thing that’s best for me. And just so you’re aware, that man in the baseball hat was under the impression that I was in distress. He raced across town to get to me. He has more respect and care in his little finger than some members of this staff have in their whole bodies.”
“I don’t need your childish quips and insults, Emma.”
My glare jerked to his, stunned that he used my first name. It wasn’t my intention to insult him, but he needed to know I was aware he and my father had been playing me for a fool.
“My apologies. I only meant to convey that Miller Hansen’s honor far surpasses how he dresses.”
“Ah. Well, he is your paramour.”
“Um. Well.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. Someone you defend so wholeheartedly is clearly someone you care deeply about. It’s a shame he isn’t more refined.”
“Refined? I’ll take compassion and loyalty over refined any day. And I wouldn’t subject him to meeting the board if the only thing we have to gain is passive-aggressive comments and pretentious stares. This job isn’t worth losing my friends. Losing my paramour.”
I dropped my head in my hands, rubbing my temples until I heard the chair he was sitting in move backward.
The sound had me opening my eyes and meeting his. “I’d like to respectfully remove my application from consideration, Headmaster.”
“I’m sorry? I must have misheard you, Miss James.”
“No, sir. I love working at the academy and would be honored to continue to do so. But I will not continue to sacrifice as I have been.”
“Then I believe we are at an impasse,” he said, rising from the chair and straightening his tie. I stared at him, watching his gaze dart around the room before landing back on me. The look was disheartening—a mix of pity and pride that left a sour taste in my mouth.
“I suppose so. Thank you for popping by.”
He looked unnerved by that comment, tilting his head before taking his pocket watch out and clicking it open. Perhaps it was a nervous tick, giving him time to come up with a response that was equal parts degrading and snarky.
“Miss James?”
I raised my brows, standing and moving back to behind my desk. My cold black coffee called to me, knowing I should refresh the cup, but the thought of leaving the sanctity of my office and walking to the staff room was as unappealing as a lobotomy.
“Sir?”
“I appreciate your candor.”
“Um, thank you?” I said, framing the response as a question because the change in his demeanor caught me off guard.
“The events are not required, and I’ve been thinking for some time the staff should rotate their attendance.”
“It would be nice to see new faces, I suppose,” I said, shrugging before giving in to the temptation of the cold coffee and taking a sip. The bitterness had me pursing my lips, but the jolt of caffeine made up for the taste.
“I look forward to seeing you tonight for your last required after-hours event.”
“Pardon?” I said, setting the cup down. I placed both hands flat on my desk, peering at where he loomed by the door.
“I like your gumption, Miss James. Consider tonight your last event, until I devise a fairer way of delegating responsibility, that is.”
He didn’t give me a chance to respond, let alone process the words before he was out the door. The only thing missing was a sinister black cape billowing behind him and a permanent scowl etched across his features.