12. Eleanor
Eleanor
What a strange day.
The morning started out well, as always, but finding Headmaster Wright at my door shortly after recess threw me. I thought maybe he had something to tell me, but he didn’t mention anything when I beckoned him inside.
Nobody was more surprised than me when he agreed to read a story to the class. I honestly thought he’d make an excuse and leave, but when he sat on my stool and began reading aloud from The Invisible Boy, my heart melted. He handled the story so gently, as if he knew it mattered.
And the kids noticed. I’ve never seen them listen so intently. You could have heard a pin drop when he closed that book.
And the look he gave me…
Shit.
It’s possible I misread it. Maybe he was deeply affected by the story, or the illustrations. It’s a great book.
But there was something in his gaze as he watched me help Richie. Something I so desperately want to be respect. Admiration.
Desire.
I laugh to myself as I place the chairs on the desks in my classroom. As if Headmaster Wright could feel anything for me besides begrudging tolerance.
Except… I think of him telling me how good my idea is. The way he listened so closely when I shared what inspired it. How he said he’d make sure the board approves Safe Harbor.
The way he called me Eleanor.
I don’t know how he feels, what he thinks about me. For all I know, he’s changed his mind on the whole Safe Harbor project and is going with something else. Maybe that’s what he came to my room to tell me.
Sighing, I pick up my phone and switch it on. I keep it turned off in my desk during the day, but now a text comes through from the man himself.
Headmaster Wright: Apologies for the late notice, but I’ll need to push our meeting to 6:30. I hope that still works for you.
I blow my breath out slowly. That’s still a few hours away, later than I was hoping to work. But it’s not like I had anything else planned besides walking Skye on the beach.
And, as sad as it is to admit this, I’m looking forward to seeing him.
To being alone with him. After our meeting last week, then that strange moment in class today, things feel different.
I might not know exactly how he feels, but I know it’s not the same as when we first met. And I’m curious to explore it more.
Eleanor: Of course. See you then.
I set my phone down, thinking. Six-thirty is a late start; I usually eat dinner at seven.
Maybe I could bring food to the meeting, a little gesture to help us relax as we work.
Would that be weird? Too informal, too friendly?
And what would I get? What if he’s allergic to something, or doesn’t eat meat…
A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts, and I look up to see Juliana. I wave her inside.
“Hey.” She smiles, closing the door behind her. Today she’s in high-waisted cropped black pants and heels, a crisp, starched white shirt, with a string of pearls around her neck. As always, utter class. “How’s your day been?” she asks as she perches on the edge of my desk.
“Good,” I say, wondering if I should mention her father reading a story to the class. She’ll probably find it funny. “Headmaster Wright visited the class and read a story to the kids.”
Her jaw falls open. “You’re kidding.”
“No,” I say, laughing. “I mean, he was reluctant, but he did it.”
“Wow.” She gives a slow, disbelieving shake of her head. “That’s… out of character.”
“I thought so.”
Her gaze sparkles as it moves over me. “How is it going with him, anyway?”
I open and close my mouth, unsure how to answer. She’s not referring to my inadvertent crush, is she? My pulse spikes at the thought, but she laughs.
“I meant the fundraiser, Nora.”
“Oh.” I huff awkwardly. “Of course. It’s going well, I think.” I hesitate, then add, “He… approved my idea.”
A grin breaks across her face. “That’s awesome! Congrats.” She nudges my shoulder. “I like to think I had a little something to do with that.” When I shoot her a questioning look, she adds, “I told him he should give you a chance.”
“You went in to bat for me?” I ask, surprised. I showed her my Safe Harbor proposal the same day I presented it to Danny and Headmaster Wright, only because she asked. I’d never expected her to speak to her father about it.
“Of course. Safe Harbor is a great idea.”
I smile, touched. “Thanks so much.”
She stands, stretching. “Well, I’ve got a yoga class to get to. Just wanted to pop in and say hi.”
I grin. At my last school, there were a lot of cliques among the faculty that meant making new friends was challenging, but Juliana has made me feel so welcome here.
So has Paige, the new guidance counselor.
We’re all around the same age, maybe we should go for a drink or something together sometime.
I make a mental note to set something up later as Juliana turns for the door.
“Have a great night.”
“You too,” I call. Then, “One question.” She pauses in the doorway, turning back to me, and I ask, “Does your dad like Thai food?”
Headmaster Wright is not in the conference room when I go upstairs at 6:30.
It’s eerily quiet at this time of night, the hallway lit with an orange glow as the sun sinks toward the horizon, casting shadows at unusual angles.
I’m used to this place in the morning, with the smell of coffee and the low buzz of chatter among the faculty before the morning meeting.
Even the meetings I’ve had with him so far have all been after school.
Something about meeting him at this time of the evening feels…
secretive. Like I’m sneaking into his office after hours. Doing something I shouldn’t.
Margaret isn’t at her desk either, and I hesitate in the hallway. Did I get the time wrong? The day? I check my phone to confirm, then, balancing the takeout in one arm, tentatively knock on his door.
There’s a noise inside, and he appears in the doorway, looking flustered.
Looking… a little undone. His jacket is gone, leaving him in his shirt and vest, tie loose, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows.
I try not to look, I really do, but my gaze betrays me by falling to the tanned skin of his forearms, corded with veins.
Holy shit.
I know they’re only forearms, but also… seeing them is like getting a glimpse behind the curtain, behind the carefully controlled, formidable facade of the headmaster to the man himself.
An image flashes suddenly through my mind; those forearms pinning my hands above my head as he moves over me, and heat curls through my bloodstream, making me breathless.
What does the rest of him look like underneath that suit? God, I need to know.
I catch myself, mortified, and whip my gaze back to his. There’s a deep frown chiseled in his brow, and I can only hope he can’t read my thoughts on my face.
Crap. We’re not off to a good start.
“I, uh, brought dinner,” I say meekly, holding up a container of Massaman Curry.
“I heard you like Thai food, so…” He stares at me silently, and I shrink, glancing along the deserted hall.
I’m reminded of the man I first met, the one who was so closed off and dismissive it was like trying to converse with a brick wall, and wonder if I should leave.
But when I glance back, his expression has softened. “You didn’t have to do that, Eleanor.”
My heart skips. Eleanor. He called me Eleanor again.
He eyes me for a moment, as if weighing something, then steps back from the door, motioning for me to enter. I breathe out in relief, stepping into his office. His desk is full of papers, so I take the food to the low table in front of the fireplace.
Then I stand awkwardly, not sure what to do next. It would be weird if I sat down and started eating, even if I’m hungry and the food smells amazing.
But Headmaster Wright looks unsettled, hovering near the doorway, his expression inscrutable, his body language tense. It was a mistake to bring the food, I realize, and embarrassment warms my cheeks. What was I thinking?
He exhales long and slow, and his posture relaxes a little with it. “That smells really good,” he admits, pushing the door to his office closed at last. “And I’m starving. Shall we eat?”
Oh, thank God.
I nod. He crosses the room to the food, stopping to switch on a banker’s lamp that sits on the sideboard. It casts a soft glow over the room, and it occurs to me that under the right circumstances, this evening could be considered romantic.
For God’s sake, Eleanor. Get a grip.
Headmaster Wright sinks wearily into one of the chairs, opening the food. The smell of Pad Thai wafts through the room, making my mouth water. I perch on the other chair and help myself carefully to the curry, trying to reestablish a professional atmosphere. If only for my own sake.
We eat in silence, which is more awkward than I could have possibly imagined. He’s obviously famished, and I wonder when he last ate. My chest fills with warmth knowing I took care of him a little.
When we’re finally done, I clear the food from the table so we can work.
He watches me move quietly through his office, tidying the takeout, pulling out my binder, and, when he doesn’t get up from the chair, bringing his laptop and glasses.
I’m trying to keep the atmosphere professional, but touching his belongings feels incredibly intimate.
It’s as if everything I do only makes matters worse.
Eventually, I settle in again, ready to get down to business. I open my binder, scanning our notes from last time, about to ask where he wants to start, when he speaks.
“I pitched Safe Harbor to the board this morning.”
My heart stops. “You did?”
He nods thoughtfully, steepling his fingers. “It deserved to be heard.”
I stare at him, unblinking. What did they say? I want to blurt, but my pulse rings too loud in my ears for me to get the words out.
His gaze meets mine. “They approved the pilot.”
“Really?”
Warmth lights his eyes as he nods again. “I told you it was good.”
I stare at him breathlessly. He really did it. He took my idea to the board and convinced them to sign off on it. He backed me, like he said he would.
I’m overcome by the sudden urge to throw myself into his arms and hug him, so I jam my hands under my butt to stop myself. But I can’t stop myself from gushing, “Thank you, Headmaster Wright. Thank you so much.”
And then, for the first time since meeting me, he smiles. Headmaster Wright actually, properly smiles.
It’s mesmerizing. Tiny creases fan out from around his blue eyes, his mouth curving up a little higher on the left than the right. It completely transforms his face, like a black-and-white movie remade in color. If I thought he was attractive before, this is totally next level. This is everything.
I should look away, but I can’t. He can’t either. And as we gaze at each other for a long moment, the light in his eyes shifts to something else. Something more… heated.
He swallows audibly, tearing his gaze from mine. “There are conditions,” he continues, steering us back on track.
But I’m reeling. Not from the news about Safe Harbor, from that smile. That look in his eyes.
I’m sure I didn’t imagine that.
“Of course, sir.” Shit, why does my voice sound all breathy?
He grunts out a sound I don’t understand, then crosses the room to retrieve a sheet of paper from his desk, and my eyes follow helplessly.
He’s so tall, so solid, like the lighthouse on the cliffs of Wetherly Cove.
A man who could make any woman feel safe and protected.
Against my better judgment, my gaze slides to his ass, wondering if it’s as firm as it looks.
His hair is a little disheveled after the day, those shirtsleeves pushed back…
God, if he puts his glasses on, I’m toast.
Jesus. Listen to me. This is my boss.
Rein it in, Eleanor. If I want him to take me seriously, I need to behave like an adult, not a teenager with a crush.
When he returns to his chair, oblivious to my roving eyes, he hands me a sheet of paper. Our fingers brush, sending a spark up my arm. My body responds with a rush of goosebumps, and I suck in a sharp breath, hoping he doesn’t notice.
Instead, I focus on reading the paper. It outlines the conditions for Safe Harbor, but my eyes can barely take in the words. I’m relieved when he speaks in his usual calm and level manner, steadying my racing heart.
“As you can see,” he says, motioning to the paper, “the board has agreed to run it for one semester as a pilot program. The scope will be limited too, at least to begin with, and there will need to be regular progress reports, clear parental communication, and faculty oversight.”
I nod. “Makes sense.”
When I glance up, his expression is serious. “So, Eleanor. There’s only one thing left to do.” He slides on his glasses.
Goddammit.
“What’s that?” I squeak.
“Get to work.”