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Lexi Pendergrass Reyes owned not just the premier dress boutique in town but also a talent studio around the corner. British found herself coming over to the shop during her lunch break for one excuse or another. It’s why she had the 3D Advent calendar on the corner of her desk now, plus a party dress for the school dance next week. Her pop-up visits hadn’t soothed her insecurities.
Gorgeous women from every direction of Georgia came through the shop for advice and dresses. And she’d sent the perpetual bachelor into the lion’s den. While British molded the minds of tomorrow’s youth, Donovan held interviews that would change the life of one local lady. Somehow, British dreaded the day Donovan would come home and tell her he’d found the new face of RC. When he found the future face, there’d be nothing keeping Donovan in Southwood.
Initially, British had wanted a temporary situation—a playboy like Donovan, with a healthy fear of commitment. Sure, he’d had a reputation of being a ladies’ man, but since they’d been together British had never seen that side of him. He was attentive, romantic and sweet. Her family adored him and Donovan seemed to enjoy spending time with them. All of this happiness was going to end eventually when he found his perfect girl.
At the idea of being closer to Donovan, British actually considered taking him up on his daily offer to be the new face of Ravens Cosmetics. But her life was here in Southwood, at Southwood Middle School.
Another thing British usually hated to hear was the cruel sound of the afternoon bell ringing. It signaled the end of the day and reminded her that she’d run out of time to go over her well-thought-out lesson plans with her students. British waited for her students to leave the classroom before she headed over to city hall. The STEM teams were excused for the day for the competition. British hoped the girls were off to a good start. She expected a win, which would then take up her afternoons for a while to prepare for the District STEM Competition. With the girls participating in the STEM-Off now, British’s afternoon was free. She planned to hang out at school until the final activity bell rang.
“So I hear our middle school kids are dominating the competition.”
British tried not to shudder at the sound of Cam’s voice. When she looked up from her attendance book, she found the director standing at the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. A long dreadlock fell over his shoulder. In another lifetime she guessed he could have been considered handsome, but his attitude was atrocious. British pushed away from her desk. She buttoned the middle of her white lab coat and squared her shoulders. “Are you here to try to psych me out?” British asked him, rolling her yellow pencil between her fingers.
“I was actually coming to see if you wanted to up the ante.”
“Meaning?”
“I mean there’s not enough room for the both of us here, Home Ec.”
A crack came from her hand where she’d snapped the pencil. “I’ve asked you before to stop calling me that.”
“Why?” Cam placed his hands on his hips. The hem of the blue-plaid shirt he wore flopped over the waistband of his brown corduroy pants. “Let’s be honest here.”
She widened her eyes. “You mean you’ve been holding back on me?” British feigned a gasp. “What do you want?”
“I want the lab to myself from here on out.”
“You’re the director of the science department, Cam, not the owner of it,” she clarified.
“I’m talking about when my boys win. I want you to resign.”
British laughed; she bent over and laughed so hard that tears formed in her eyes. “You can’t be serious,” she asked once she sobered and placed her hands on her hips in the same stance as the director. “I’m surprised you didn’t challenge me to a duel.”
“Right about now, I’d take it,” said Cam. He advanced into the room and let the heavy black door slam behind him.
For a moment British wasn’t sure if she needed to be afraid. Lucky for her she had two older brothers who’d taught her how to protect herself. British stepped back in her black heels, in preparation to do battle. She even put her hands up. “Back up, Cam.”
“It is Dr. Beasley,” Cam said in a clipped tone. “And what is this? A little girl like yourself is going to try to beat me up?” He stepped closer.
A moment ago British wasn’t sure of his intentions but now Cam made it perfectly clear. His fists were balled at his sides. “I am so tired of watching you tiptoe around these halls acting like you own the place.”
“I don’t do that,” said British, “but I am warning you to back away from me, Cam.”
“I’m the boss here. It’s best you remember—”
Since he kept
advancing toward her, British extended her right fist and popped him in the nose. The punch didn’t do anything but anger him more.
“Jesus, woman, you are reckless.”
“And you’re still getting in my face.”
Cam didn’t stop. He stepped even closer. The scent of the cafeteria lunch of chicken parm and garlic bread loitered on his breath. “I need you to leave the school, British.”
“Cam.” British curled her fingers around his to break the grip he’d taken on the lapels of her coat. “I am warning you.”
“Are you going to leave when you lose?”
