Chapter Three
Sue
Saturday started badly, and then it got worse.
Of course the universe would send me a man who looked like a Greek god and then have me greet him wearing cement on my face.
Cam—Sebastian’s friend, my new neighbor, and my current obsession—had barely said a word before he ran out of my apartment.
No amount of bubble bath could drown out the fact that I’d embarrassed myself last night in front of the hottest man I’d met in years.
He was probably still laughing about the crazy blonde next door.
More likely, he wasn’t thinking about me at all.
“Porca miseria!”
I dragged my ass out of bed and padded to the kitchen, my slippers slapping against the hardwood floor. Oh, Cam had gotten an eyeful of them too.
Fantastic work, Susanne! You have seduction written all over you.
Once I got the coffee brewing, I went into the living room, pulled open the drapes, and moaned.
The snow had stopped falling, but not before leaving six inches of white stuff in its wake.
I shuddered at the thought of going out in that brutally freezing air.
Since there would be no one to impress at that damn meeting, I decided to dress comfortably in jeans and a black turtleneck sweater covered by my red and black checkered shirt.
I pulled my hair into a ponytail, not bothering with any cosmetics beyond moisturizer.
I might not be New York chic, but I was going to be warm.
Instead of my usual deadly footwear, I slipped on my mukluks—no need to risk life and limb for this ordeal.
I was supposed to meet Sam at 1:30, so I figured I had plenty of time to come home and change into something more suitable for a first date.
The wind was brisk as I made my way to the subway for the fifteen minute ride to the school. Unlike the mornings of my weekday commute, the subway station was deserted. My boots echoed on the cement floor. I stopped at the kiosk for my usual donut and settled inside an almost empty car.
I made it to the school only ten minutes late—almost a miracle for a non-work day.
If you were to ask my mother, she would tell you that I’d been born late and had continued that trend my entire life.
It wasn’t as if I set out to be tardy; it just happened.
When I die, whoever puts the tombstone on my grave should add the phrase, On my way.
How I managed to get to work on time each morning was one of life’s unsolvable mysteries.
Recalling Mrs. West’s instructions, I went around to the side door, noting the dozen or so cars in the parking lot.
As a private school, Everleigh didn’t draw its student population only from this area.
Many of our three hundred students came in from the burbs, some driven in by parents, nannies, or chauffeurs, others arriving, accompanied of course, by subway.
Mr. Fisk, the custodian who reminded me of Lurch from The Addams Family, stood in the doorway, letting people inside after he checked their names off his master list. At least I wasn’t the only one who was late. I stood in line behind a woman who’d taken a bath in Chanel.
“Good morning, Ms. Morelli. You here to do some work in your classroom?”
“I wish.” I smiled at Mr. Fisk, hoping to hide my frustration at being here. “I’m supposed to attend the committee meeting.”
He frowned and looked down at the list. “Your name’s not on the roll, but since you work here, I suppose it’s okay to let you in.”
“I appreciate it, Fisky. I got added to this committee yesterday. I guess she didn’t have time to update her list.”
“She should’ve taken time,” he grumbled. “You’re the second person that’s not on my list, although the first guy had a letter explaining why he’s here. He’s substituting for Mrs. Jones.”
“Oh, Carley Jones.” I nodded. “She broke her leg skiing last weekend. Her son, Luke, is in my English class. He mentioned his uncle had just moved to the city and was staying with them until his father got back from his latest business trip.”
My own brother wouldn’t toss me a life preserver if I were drowning, but then we’d never been close. After I’d given his best friend, The Truffle Prince, the boot... well, let’s just say Sunday dinners had gone downhill. I’d left Warwick a decade ago and had no plans to return anytime soon.
“Yeah, mighty nice of him,” Fisky agreed. “They’re in the library. Don’t think they’ve started yet.”
I thanked him and made my way up the ornate wooden staircase, the only original item in the hundred and fifty-year-old building, that had endured more facelifts than all of the Hollywood has-beens grouped together. On the second floor, I inhaled deeply, the aroma of fresh coffee invigorating me.
Stepping inside the room, I counted a dozen people at the table.
Every fool knew that a committee of that size would never get any work done.
I pasted a friendly smile on my face that quickly turned into a grimace.
Sitting at the table talking to the president of the Parents’ Committee was Cam, the gorgeous man who’d decorated my apartment last night and had populated my dreams later.
Today, he’d shaved and his hair was fashionably ruffled. He wore a beige sweater and black jeans. His leather jacket adorned the chair behind him.
My libido went crazy chanting se-cond chance, se-cond chance. I had asked the Universe for a do-over, but never thought I would get it. And I’d never thought I would ruin it by being dressed like a lumberjack.
Shoot me now.
How many times could I make a fool of myself in front of this man by looking first like a freak, and now like a hick?
Stupid, stupid, stupid! What did Ange always say?
Dress as if you were going to meet royalty, and you can never go wrong.
The only royalty I was dressed to meet was the queen’s donkey, since I looked like Paul Bunyan. All I needed was a blue ox for company.
What the hell was Cam doing here anyway? Was he a parent? I should have figured. A man who looked like that had to be married or engaged. The good ones always were.
Head down, I hurried around the table to sit on the same side that he did, making sure that, while I couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see me.
If there were a God, Cam wouldn’t recognize me.
Of course, if there were, He would’ve kicked my ass this morning and made me dress as a woman instead of a rustic renegade.
I removed my jacket and put it across the back of my chair. The others were clothed for a day at the office, while I couldn’t even get a seat at a bowling convention dressed the way I was.
Mrs. Helmsley slammed her gavel on the table to get everyone’s attention. The committee chairperson wore a Hillary Clinton styled pantsuit and pearls that must’ve come from a colony of cloned oysters since they were all exactly the same size.
“Good morning.” Her British accent was upper-class.
“I want to thank you all for volunteering to be on the committee again this year. Most schools form theirs in the fall, but by putting ours to work in the spring, we can get a jump on things. The first thing we should do is introduce ourselves, as we have a new member and a temporary one. As you all know, I’m Kelsey Helmsley.
My son, Liam, and my daughter, Olivia, attend this school. ”
I listened as parent after parent introduced themselves and named their children. Having worked here four years, I knew the kids well. When the man beside me finished, I took a deep breath.
“Hello. I’m Susanne Morelli. I teach English to students in seventh and eighth grade. I also look after a reading group and the math club. In addition, I will be working with the representative for the new software the school purchased thanks to your generous assistance.”
The invisible talking stick passed to the man on my left. Three people later, the only person I was interested in spoke.
“Hello,” Cam said. His fingers were linked in front of him on the table, his thumbs aligned in perfect symmetry.
“I’m pleased to be here, even if it’s only on a temporary basis.
I’m Cameron Jones. I’ve recently transferred to New York from Denver because of my work.
As you know, my sister-in-law, Carley Jones, broke her leg skiing.
Since her husband, my brother Craig, is on a business trip to Japan, Carley asked me to attend the meeting for her.
As soon as the doctor replaces her cast with a walking one, she’ll be back. ”
“It’s so kind of you to do that for your sister-in-law.” Across the table, Abigail Munroe leaned forward, displayed her recently remodeled cleavage, and grinned, revealing a mouthful of the whitest teeth I’d ever seen.
Some of the women on staff referred to the rich divorcee as the barracuda, and it was easy to understand why. Judging by the way Abigail was sizing up the new recruit, it looked like she was hungry.
“And what business are you in, Mr. Jones?” the woman beside him asked.
“I work in tech,” he said, essentially ending the exchange.
After we’d all introduced ourselves, the secretary read the minutes of the previous meeting.
I listened with one ear, preoccupied with beating myself up for passing up another opportunity to impress Cameron Jones.
What kind of tech did he work in? I noticed an Omega Speedmaster Moonwatch on his wrist. As it happened, my dad was passionate about watches and I knew this particular Swiss watch fell into the luxury watch category, especially the limited edition Cam was wearing.
Whatever his business was, he must be doing reasonably well.
I had to drink two cups of coffee to stay awake throughout the meeting.
The others debated everything from the graduation theme to the lunch contract, while I silently observed.
After two hours of loud deliberation, the winning theme was futuristic—meaning the gym would likely resemble a low-budget Dune set.
By now, my back teeth were floating, and I was in desperate need of a bathroom. When Kelsey called a break, I had to restrain myself from shouting hallelujah.
I hurried out of the library, my legs moving faster than ever. Quickly, I locked myself in a stall, grateful I’d made it there without an accident. Only an idiot would have so much coffee during a two-hour meeting. I was that idiot.
A couple of minutes later I was a gallon lighter. Before I could exit, I heard women’s voices. Their discussion kept me hidden in my stall.
“What was Mrs. West thinking, asking that woman to represent the school?” That was Abigail. “Thank God I didn’t arrange for the photographer to come today. Can you imagine that corn-fed yokel outfit front and center on the society page? We’d be the laughing stock of all the schools in the area.”
“I’ll have to call Margaret and have her send someone else,” a second voice replied.
“We can’t have that country bumpkin representing us.
I don’t understand why she was even hired.
I’ll insist on looking at her credentials.
Teaching English? Good Lord, she’s half Italian.
What could she possibly know about teaching English? ”
Heat crept up my neck, engulfing my cheeks and ears.
If these pompous bitches thought I didn’t belong here, they were in for a rude awakening.
I’d graduated at the top of my class, and I could teach circles around their designer pumps.
They could shove their precious committee where the tanning lotion didn’t reach.
If Mrs. West let me off the hook, I’d throw a one-woman parade in my honor.
With a dramatic sigh, I flicked an imaginary speck of dust off my sleeve, because clearly, I was just too rustic to be in their presence.
I waited until they were gone, then washed my hands, dried them, and opened the door.
I wasn’t paying any attention to anything as I silently cursed the supercilious witches who didn’t like my clothes.
Focused on my inner rant, I ran smack into Cam’s chest.