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I locked the door. Twice. Took inventory: keys, phone, and purse.
They were all there.
I sighed in relief and dragged my body down, my back against the door.
Safe. For now.
But then it occurred to me that I didn’t care about my safety. Not as much as I cared about his.
I wasn’t supposed to know where he was that night, but I couldn’t help but text him, just to check that he’s okay.
Me:
Are you guys having fun?
Jaime:
You bet we are. But I can’t stop thinking about you.
Me:
Is that why you left without explaining?
Jaime:
Yes, Mel. That’s exactly why I left without explaining. Because I think about you before I think about myself. Always remember that, Little Ballerina. Always.
“MS. GREENE. MY OFFICE. NOW.”
Principal Followhill’s face was thunder about to crack, and I knew she’d be unleashing a shit-storm on me the minute I stepped into her office. It didn’t matter. It was only yesterday that I’d witnessed her son—my boyfriend—committing a serious crime. This was the last week of school, and I’d already started applying for positions at nearby schools for next year. She had no power over me anymore.
Or so I thought.
I walked into her office and closed the door, silently taking a seat.
“Straight to the point?” She leaned over her table, legs crossed. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call the cops and have you arrested right here on the premises.”
My heart stopped, just like that. What?
“Excuse me?” My eyebrows shot up. My pulse vibrated between my ears.
Followhill tapped her shiny fingernail on her desk and shot me an insincere smile. “Let me refresh your memory—big fire. Burnt yacht. A devastated family. All happened yesterday. Now, again, Ms. Greene…” She leaned closer to me, whispering, “Give me one good reason not to call our beloved police chief?”
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes to gain strength. “Reason number one? Because I didn’t do shit.”
“Mr. Rowland and his son, Toby, don’t seem to think so. They say you set fire to La Belle last night. Wanting to get back at the school’s staff before you leave here. The family’s restaurant is ruined.” She cocked her head sideways, a smug smile spreading on her face.
Panic exploded in my veins, and my head became a jumbled mess of incoherent thoughts. I had so much to say and nothing at all to utter, all at the same time, so I settled for, “Huh?”
“I was skeptical, too, at first. I said why would she? But then there was evidence.” She slid her drawer open, producing a necklace. My necklace. Shit. That’s what I dropped when I ran away last night. The silver anchor glittered between her fingers.
She tossed it to me, shaking her head. “And a motive, too. I suppose you’ve heard Coach Rowland’s sister, Chelsea, is going to take your position next year.”
Actually, I had no idea, and I can’t say I cared much, either. At this point, I wouldn’t have stayed in the job even if she’d offered me a seven-digit salary.
“Is that all you got?” I murmured, folding my arms over my chest. “People are still allowed to take a stroll in your town’s precious marina. Doesn’t make them guilty of burning down random yachts.”
“Toby gave it to me this morning. He swears he saw you doing it.”
I’d had it. I bolted up out of my chair and stared her down. “You know exactly who did it.” Rage consumed every inch of my body, and I banged my fist against her desk. “And I get the feeling you know why, too. This is blackmail.” My lips twitched. “Twice in one semester,” I added.
Principal Followhill stood up slowly, staring me in the eye. “You think I don’t know you’re sleeping with my son? Eyeing his fortune, his money, his future?” Her tone was low, and her intent was clear. “You’re delusional if you think I’m letting you anywhere near my house and my money. Let him go to college, you little slut. Set him free.”
Our chests were so close I could hear her breaths. The room was warm, but I was cold. Nothing felt right. Nothing.
“He is free,” I sneered, shaking my head. “He chose me.”
“Then don’t give him the option,” she gritted, fury making the muscles on her face tic.
“Why? Because you said so?” Our faces were almost touching, too close for my liking, but I didn’t back down. Our chests brushed, and I hated the scent of her Chanel No. 5 and expensive cosmetics in my nostrils.
“Because I have a lot of power in this town. Because what you’re doing is wrong,” she bit out, finishing on a whisper, “because no one can know this ever happened. Not to a family like the Followhills.”
I was tempted to say she should remind herself of their reputation next time she jumped into bed with one of her staff, but that was Jaime’s secret to tell, not mine. I would never out what he knew.
