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“Ask me privately.” My voice cracks like a whip in the room.
“I would rather we talk about it now before you make any more unexpected announcements.”
Her nostrils flare. Warning screams from her vibrant brown eyes.
My pants tighten.
I hate that her defiance—that magic flame inside her that never backs down from confrontation—ignites my blood.
A tentative knock breaks our stare-down.
A woman with purple hair and pale skin steps into the room. “Sorry I’m late,” she whispers, shuffling in while holding her head down and gripping a leather purse. “Sorry.”
“Miss Cottingham.” I check my watch.
“I know.” She cringes. “My car broke down and I had to wait for the tow truck…” Her gaze catches on Dejonae and she stops moving.
Dejonae looks equally surprised.
I gesture to the newcomer. “Miss Cottingham is my daughter’s instructor. She worked previously at the Terrence Hall Music Academy. She will be a head trainer as well, second only to Miss Williams.”
“Second?” Miss Cottingham gawks.
I slant her a sharp look. “Is that a problem?”
“N-no.” She licks her lips.
I motion to the table. “Have a seat.”
She takes the chair opposite Dejonae. The women give each other wary looks.
“As instructors, you will usher in the first phase of the foundation. In the second phase, we will introduce a learning tool to make lessons easier for our students. Miss Williams is assisting in the process of fine-tuning it.” I nod to her.
She seems shocked by the acknowledgement.
“Keep in mind that we are here to serve, to inspire, and to protect. How we perform in this first phase will directly impact the success of The Sazuki Foundation.” My eyes drift to Dejonae. “You are all an important piece. If you take your duties lightly, I will consider it as your way of asking to be released from your post.”
Her lips fall into a thin line.
“That is all for today. You will receive your schedules and information packets on your first students from HR. If you have any questions, you can direct them to my secretary. That will be all for today.”
Chairs scrape against the ground as the instructors leave the room.
I stay behind, keenly aware of Dejonae and her ex who are sitting closely together.
“We were cut off yesterday,” he says, looking down at her, “but I’m hoping we can continue that thread of conversation later.”
Dejonae slants him an annoyed look. “Not right now, Jordan.”
“Sure. I’m willing to go at your pace, Deej. I’ll do whatever I can to win your trust back.”
His voice curdles my blood. I fight the instinct to kick him out of my sight.
But on what grounds?
Because I don’t like his history with Dejonae? Because his intense pursuit of her annoys me?
He was hired for his skills, and I will not allow my… connection with Miss Williams to get in the foundation’s path to success.
