Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ellie stood behind her desk, one hand braced against it, the other curled into a fist at her side as she stared at her office door and waited.
She had ten minutes. Ten minutes before she was supposed to be in the staff room, and ten minutes before she could sit down beside Alba, pretending for a moment that everything was normal.
Ten minutes…and she refused to spend another one of them letting this continue.
As anticipated, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in.”
Susan entered first, as she always did, her posture already bordering on defensive. Jeanette trailed in just behind her, quieter but no less aware of what this was likely about. Ellie didn’t offer them seats; it wasn’t necessary.
“Close the door.”
Susan hesitated, and then the click of the latch settled into place.
Ellie folded her arms, holding their gaze evenly. “I’ll keep this brief. I have limited time today, and I’d rather not spend it in here with the two of you.”
Susan offered a tight smile. “Of course.”
Jeanette remained silent, hovering just behind her.
Ellie took a slow breath, grounding herself before she spoke.
She would remain calm and controlled. She would remain professional.
“I’ve been made aware of a few comments regarding a member of staff.
” Ellie noted the glance Susan and Jeanette barely shared.
It was subtle, but unmistakable. “And I’d like to understand why you think it’s appropriate to air your opinion at all. ”
Susan shifted and lifted her chin. “If this is about what I think it is—”
“It is.” Ellie didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. The firmness in her tone was enough.
Susan’s lips pressed together. “I assume this is about Alba.”
Ellie glared. “Yes. It is.”
Jeanette stepped forward, as though she’d just found her footing in the conversation. “We were simply discussing concerns, Ellie. Nothing more than that.”
“Concerns,” Ellie repeated evenly.
Susan nodded, latching onto that word. “Yes. Professional concerns.”
Ellie tilted her head. Did these women think she was stupid? Seriously? “And what professional concerns would those be?”
There was a brief pause, but it told Ellie everything she needed to know. Susan and Jeanette weren’t professionally concerned about anything. They were just sticking their noses into something they had no right to stick their noses into.
Susan spoke up first. “Well, for one, her reliability. She’s already taken time off—”
“She was unwell,” Ellie cut in. “And she followed the correct procedures…as anyone here would.”
Jeanette cleared her throat. “That may be the case, but we’ve also heard—”
“From Audrey Seddon,” Ellie finished for her.
Susan’s jaw clenched. “Yes.”
Ellie exhaled a slow breath, her patience beginning to wear thin. It was one thing for them to bend the truth, but to lie to Ellie’s face…no. She wasn’t putting up with this. “And remind me again what Audrey Seddon’s role is within this school?”
Neither of them answered.
“She doesn’t have one,” Ellie continued. “She is not a member of staff, and she doesn’t contribute to this school in any professional capacity.”
Susan’s expression hardened. “That doesn’t mean her information isn’t valid.”
“No.” Ellie straightened as she pushed off the desk. “It means it’s irrelevant.”
Ellie’s words sat between them. Heavy but unmistakably clear.
Before they walked out of her office today, she wanted them to understand that she wouldn’t put up with this any longer.
Park Haven had never been a school known for bullying staff, and she wasn’t about to allow that to slip in wherever it possibly could.
Jeanette shifted her weight. “We’re just trying to look out for the school, Ellie. That’s all.”
“And I appreciate that, but let me be very clear.” She stepped around her desk and stopped in the middle of the room. Directly in front of them. “This is a workplace. Not a gossip circle.”
Susan opened her mouth. “With respect—”
“No,” Ellie said as she lifted a hand. “With respect, you’ve overstepped.”
That did it. Susan’s composure cracked a little. “We’re allowed to have opinions—”
“Not about your colleagues’ personal lives.” Ellie’s voice didn’t rise, but it did cut cleanly through her office. “Not based on hearsay and not based on information provided by someone who has no place within this environment.”
Susan scoffed. “So we’re just supposed to ignore the fact that she comes with a history?”
Ellie didn’t know why Susan had decided to side with Audrey when she didn’t know the first thing about Alba, nor did she know why Jeanette had started to follow her around and have her back when there was a hint of drama, but she wouldn’t do it again.
Enough…was enough.
“You’re supposed to do your job. Which, the last time I checked, does not include assessing the personal history of your colleagues or making assumptions about their character based on what an ex-partner has said.”
Jeanette lowered her gaze.
Susan, however, held her ground. “We’re simply concerned that she may not be the right fit.”
“She is the right fit,” Ellie said. It was final, certain, and absolutely non-negotiable. “I interviewed her, I hired her, and I’ve observed her in her role. She’s met every expectation so far, regardless of what Audrey Seddon has to say.”
Susan’s nostrils flared. “And if that changes?”
“It won’t.” Ellie stepped around both women and moved towards the door. “I expect you to treat Alba with the same professionalism and respect you afford every other member of staff.”
Susan exhaled sharply through her nose. “We haven’t been disrespectful.”
“Oh?” Ellie locked eyes with Susan. “I’d be very careful with that assumption.”
That was the closest she’d come to a warning, and they all knew it.
Jeanette was the first to nod, a small, almost reluctant movement. “Understood.”
Susan didn’t budge; she didn’t speak. Then eventually, she nodded too.
“Good.” Ellie opened the door and stepped back, the tension in her shoulders easing a fraction. “Then we’re done here.” She turned away from them, already dismissing the conversation in her mind. She had somewhere else to be. “Thank you for your time.”
Alba’s tea had gone lukewarm in her hands, forgotten about the moment she’d sat down.
Because the second she’d stepped into the staff room, she’d felt the shift.
That awareness and that restless energy sitting just beneath her skin.
It wasn’t the room, and it wasn’t Susan or Jeanette or anyone else pretending not to look at her—it was Ellie. Or rather…the anticipation of Ellie.
Her knee bounced under the table, her fingers tapping lightly against the side of her mug as she tried unsuccessfully to focus on anything else.
The conversations around her blurred into nothing because all she could think about was last night.
The way Ellie had looked at her, and kissed her, and quite clearly wanted her.
Alba swallowed when her mouth ran dry.
Get a grip.
She looked down at her phone, pretending to check something, but really, she was just trying to give herself something to do with her hands before she completely lost her mind in a room full of colleagues.
And then the door opened. Alba didn’t need to look; she felt it.
Felt her. Still, her eyes lifted anyway… and that was her first mistake.
Oh, Jesus.
Ellie stepped into the room, already shrugging her blazer from her shoulders effortlessly…completely unaware of the effect she had on every nerve ending in Alba’s body. Or maybe she was aware. God, Alba hoped she was.
The pencil skirt she wore should have come with a warning, in all honesty. It hugged her gorgeous body in all the right places, but paired with that blouse—sheer in the light—it did absolutely nothing to help Alba keep her thoughts in check.
Her breath caught, actually caught, and when Ellie slid her blazer over the back of her chair and sat down beside her, Alba had to physically stop herself from staring. But it was too late. She was already staring.
“Hi,” Ellie said softly, nudging Alba with her shoulder. “Good day so far?”
“H-hi,” Alba somehow managed. “So far so good.” She passed a lunch box to Ellie with a shaking hand, then tried to pick up her own turkey salad wrap. “It’s not much, but it’s filling.”
“Thank you. You’re a star.” Ellie side-glanced at her, a hint of something knowing in her eyes. “You okay?”
No. Not even close.
“Yeah,” Alba said, clearing her throat as she forced her gaze away. “Fine.”
Alba dared to look over at Ellie again. All she could see now was the way Ellie’s blouse dipped when she leaned forward…and the faint outline beneath the fabric. It was enough to ruin her entirely.
Fuck.
Alba dragged her attention back to her tea, her fingers tightening around her mug. She couldn’t do this. Not like this, and not in here…not when one look from Ellie made her forget how to function.
“Do you have your phone on you?”
Ellie paused as she leaned down and patted the pocket of her blazer. “I do.”
“Good.”
Ellie’s brows drew together, a hint of curiosity in her eyes, but Alba didn’t explain.
She reached forward and lifted her own phone, her heart already racing as she unlocked it.
This was a terrible idea, but she couldn’t sit here and pretend she wasn’t thinking all kinds of things she shouldn’t be thinking.
She couldn’t sit here and pretend that Ellie didn’t look like that and expect her to just… ignore it.
So she would text her instead before her mind exploded.
Did you wake up this morning, look in your wardrobe, and decide on an outfit that would make me lose my mind?
Ellie’s phone buzzed inside her pocket, against the metal leg of the chair. She frowned, took it out, and eyed Alba when she saw her name on the screen. Alba simply sipped her tea and pretended she was minding her own business.
Ellie’s breath hitched. Alba felt it more than heard it…the shift in Ellie beside her.
So, Alba sent another message.