Page 118 of Mr. B

“Then how long to bake?”

“About thirty minutes. Then it needs to sit for ten.”

Wes rubbed his stomach. “I might make it that long.”

Cassandra put the lasagna together while Wes sipped a beer and watched. She glanced at him. “Surely you’ve made lasagna before.”

“No. Mom makes a great one. I’ve only ventured as far as spaghetti. Now that I have all this free time on my hands, who knows.”

She turned to him. “It’s temporary.”

“Of course, if Pete sues me, I may not have a kitchen to cook in. I’ll need to live in my half-built boat.”

Cassandra put her hands on his arms. “Weston, quit feeling sorry for yourself.”

“Sorry. I’ve only been off for a day and a half, and I’m already spiraling.”

She kissed him, then put the lasagna into the oven. “Come sit with me.”

They went to the living room and sat on the couch. “I talked with Bailey this afternoon about it.”

“Poor kid. More secrets to keep?”

“She is incensed and wants to gather the students in some sort of protest.”

“I’m not sure how much good that will do. I don’t want them to get into trouble.”

“She won’t say anything to anyone, but the news is bound to break soon.”

He nodded. “I ran into two parents at the grocery store, and they both gave me the ‘I’m so sorry’ look. I’m pretty sure they weren’t sorry that I messed up my knee.”

“I say, if the students want to let the board and the trustees know how much they love you, then more power to them.”

“Before I went to college, the last thing I thought I’d be doing was working in education. I figured I’d spend a year or two to please my parents, then go home and help Dad in the orchard. Then I met this beautiful, crazy girl taking child psychology classes, and I enrolled just to spend time with her.”

“I wasn’t that crazy.”

“You were a breath of fresh air. I didn’t stand a chance.”

“And how about now?”

“Well, obviously, I still didn’t stand a chance. You blew back into my life, and here we are a couple of months later eating lasagna together.”

“You, me, and Frank.”

Chapter twenty-nine

“Even the mighty fall.”

After a lovely weekend with Wes, Cassandra was reluctant to return to work. His absence made it worse. The first thing she noticed when she pulled into the parking lot was a strange car in Wes’ spot. When she entered the main office, she went straight to Polly.

“There’s someone parked in Wes’ spot.”

Polly glanced at the closed door of Wes’ office. “He’s in there.” She leaned closer. “All smiles. Not apologetic at all for taking over Mr. Buchanan’s office.”

“Who is it?”

Polly shook her head. “He’s from White City. Ryan Thomas.”