CHAPTER 4
Lucas
The Greenhouse live stream was like looking into the lives of celebrities you thought were untouchable, and realizing that they were regular people. After the club closed, a few servers immediately left the club and went to unknown destinations, but for most of the servers, especially the ones who lived on-site, they took their time removing their makeup and showering, the leisure helping to ease them into relaxation. Haley, after a short hour of sleep, woke up, dressed in sweatpants and a large shirt, grabbed a canvas bag stuffed with clothing, and headed out.
Stalking wasn’t a pastime I was willing to take up, but I liked a challenge, and figuring out what made Haley tick was part of the game. This time, I was waiting in the parking lot, watching for her. A dark-gray car rounded the corner, and through the windows, I saw that messy bun. I made a mental note of the license plate, then pulled out once she was on the main road.
It was a short drive to a set of brick buildings, hidden behind a forest of trees. A school. Some of the sections looked like mini-cathedrals. The endless procession of young students in uniform and the mere expanse made me think this was either a university for school children or a boarding school. Judging by the number of students there that early in the morning, it was the latter.
Haley parked near the front. The clothing stuffed inside of her canvas bag, was now pooling out of the top. The material sparkled in a way that seemed particularly garish compared to the setting. She went to the front office. I waited for a few minutes before entering myself.
Sage and Ivy Preparatory Academy, a sign boasted,A boarding school for young women. Did Haley know someone who worked here? Was she trying to get a job, to better her life outside of the Dahlia District? From what I knew, Dahlia was strict with the debts, and working entertainment at the club was likely more lucrative than teaching at a private school. So why was she here? A daughter, perhaps?
A line of toddler girls being led by a young teacher ushered their way between the buildings and disappeared again. Perhaps Haley volunteered or tutored part-time. It would explain the early mornings.
But a teacher didn’t wear sweatpants and carry a shimmering dress into school. There was something else going on.
I walked through the front doors and a few different staff members turned to see who I was. I scanned the hallway; there was no sign of Haley. A room off to the side showed a lobby and a woman with a bun on top of her head. Her face was youthful, but the angular lines of her hair made her seem older.Tina Washingtonwas on the metal placard on her desk,Assistant to the Headmaster.
Assistant to the Headmaster. An interesting way to say, front desk secretary.
“Good morning! How can I help you, Mr…” Tina started to say. A blush crept across her neck. I had a way of making people feel intimidated. Perhaps it was the way I locked in a stare. It made others feel uncomfortable that I was so attentive.
But I didn’t have any use for Tina, other than to gather information about Haley.
“My name is Lucas Conway,” I said. I held out a hand and Tina hesitantly shook it. “I was driving through and I realized that though I’ve worked in the greater area of Sage City for quite some time, I had never heard of, or visited this school.”
“Sage and Ivy Preparatory Academy is a private boarding school for young women, sir,” Tina said. “Do you have any children? Perhaps a niece that you would like to enroll?”
Nothing of the sort.
“I was hoping to make a donation,” I said. “Does the curriculum include a section on financial investments?”
“Oh, um, let me see,” Tina said, looking down at her computer. She typed, while I glanced down the hallway. There was a set of wide windows at the end, giving a glimpse of the area between the buildings. A field of grass. Students coming in and out. Uniforms and scurrying teachers. And in the middle of it all, Haley in her sweatpants, completely out of place.
“There’s a semester dedicated to the stock market for seniors.”
“But not on investments in general?”
“No, sir.”
I gestured towards the windows. “What’s with the girl in the sweatpants? Does she work here?”
“Oh, her.” Tina lifted her nose. “That’s Haley Ramsey. She’s never quite dressed appropriately, but we can’t seem to convince her of the proper behaviors.”
“Why does she dress that way?”
“I suppose it’s because she doesn’t respect our institution.” Tina ruffled her shoulders. “But there are rumors that she works a night job. You know.” She lowered her voice and veered forward. “A cocktail waitress.” She said the words like it was a scandalous revelation, and yet I stayed stoic.
Apparently, it was a disgrace to serve drinks.
“Is there something wrong with cocktail waitresses?”
“Oh, no, sir!” she said quickly. The pitch of her voice went higher still. “Only that she’s too tired to put on a decent set of clothes after working all night. You know how it is. The poor thing.”
That change in her character showed the assistant’s true intentions. She didn’t care about saving Haley’s face. She only cared about what I thought.
“I’d like to get the forms about making a donation, particularly to the economics department. With minimal stipulations to the funds,” I said.
