Page 103 of Mr. Masters (Mr. 1)


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The tears stream down her face.

“Okay?” I whisper as I hold her two cheeks in my hands.

She nods.

I kiss her one last time. “You’re an amazing woman. Go and find a man who deserves your love.”

She smiles, despite her tears, and we squeeze each other’s hand one last time. When she turns to leave, I put my hands into my tro

user pockets and I watch her walk to her front door. She turns back and waves sadly. I smile and wave goodbye.

She opens the door and disappears inside

I turn and get into my car, and before I know it, I‘m opening up my front door. The house is dark, lit only by the kitchen light, and I lie on the living room floor, staring up at the ceiling.

Why am I like this?

What’s wrong with me?

Brielle

It’s 9:00 a.m. on Tuesday morning, and I’m sitting outside the principle’s office as I wait for our scheduled meeting about Willow. He couldn’t see me before now. I don’t know what the hell he does that is so important, but I intend to find out.

I’m already furious because of my stupid twat of a boss. He came home not long after me, so I’m not sure what happened on his date.

Either way, I’m off him.

This principle better not mess with me in here or he will meet his maker. My leg bounces up and down as I wait. After speaking with Willow in depth this morning, I now know that it’s a group of six girls who are picking on her. They pick on everyone, apparently. Willow’s best friend moved schools about

a year ago, and that’s when they turned their attention to her. She assures me that it’s okay and not to worry, but it’s not okay. Ever.

I glance at my watch.

Come on. What is he doing?

I can’t believe I fucked him.

I get a vision of Mr. Masters face between my legs, and I just want to gouge my eyes out. How can I stop seeing this shit? What an idiot I am.

I exhale as I feel my underarms heat with perspiration.

“Come on,” I whisper, my leg bouncing harder as my anticipation builds and builds. “What the hell are you doing in there?”

The office door opens, and a man in a grey suit walks out. He’s in his early sixties and very distinguished. He smiles kindly and shakes my hand. “Hello, I’m John Edwards.”

“I’m Brielle, thank you for making time to see me.”

He gestures into his office “Please, come in.” I walk past him and take a seat at his big, fancy desk.

He sits opposite me and links his hands in front of him. “How can I help you today?”

I swallow nervously. “I have some concerns about Willow Masters getting bullied.”

He frowns. “I’m sorry. Are you her parent or guardian?”

I clutch my handbag on my lap with white-knuckle force. “No. Willow’s mother died five years ago in a car accident. I’m her nanny.”

His face falls. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

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