AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“How was your day?”
Angela rolled her eyes. “Not any better,” she said. “I had to deal with some really needy clients over at the clearing firm.”
We clinked glasses and I told her all about Brett and Lily.
“You did the right thing,” Angela said. “Don't worry about that, June.”
“It's not that.” I shook my head. “I’m not worried that I did the wrong thing, exactly, but Mr. March...I dunno. His voice was so powerful and intense.”
Angela snickered. “Sounds like someone has a crush,” she teased.
I blushed hotly and shook my head. “It's not that,” I told her. “It's just...I don't know. I wonder if he's going to be angry that he has to come in and deal with his son.”
Angela shrugged. “Well, he's a parent, and his kid screwed up,” she said. “Don't beat yourself up, June. You'll be fine. That kid was being a little brat.”
I nodded. As much as I knew Angela was correct, that didn't quell my nerves about the meeting tomorrow. After dinner, when I went to bed, I lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling and wondering how it was going to go.
–
In the morning, I wore my favorite outfit – a grey pencil skirt with a cream blouse – and put on my highest pair of heels. Teachers were allowed to wear jeans on Fridays, but I had a feeling that Mr. March was going to come in looking incredibly professional, and I didn't want him to think that I was just a kid. There was also the fact that I was so young – I wondered if he would blame me, for being an inexperienced teacher? Plus, my wide eyes and pale face had a habit of making me look even younger. My stomach sank when I realized that no amount of fancy clothing would make me look professional enough to teach a billionaire's son.
I didn't know very much about Brett's family, but I did know that his father was incredibly wealthy. Thomas March worked for Steel Visions, Inc – a high-dollar consulting firm. There were always whispers about him at school. One of the other teachers, Michelle, had taught Brett the year before and I remembered her talking about Mr. March in the teacher's lounge. She'd been blushing the whole time.
Thankfully, my students were well-behaved – even Brett, who kept his head down for most of the day. He still seemed sullen and quiet, and I wondered if he'd already gotten into trouble despite the fact that I hadn't disclosed yesterday's events to his father.
By the end of the day, I was a nervous wreck. Thankfully, Ruth had helped out a lot – she'd taught the kids a new song during their music hour, and then she'd taken them to play soccer for the last hour of the day. They were exhausted and sweaty as they waited for their buses, and I sat nervously at my desk, trying to make myself look as organized as possible.
At three-thirty on the dot, there was a knock at my door. I glanced up to see a gorgeous older man walking towards my desk. I guessed he was in his late forties, with tanned skin, brown eyes, and dark brown hair shot through with silver.
“Hi, are you Miss Rogers?”
I flushed. “Please, you can call me June.” I stood up and tried to make myself as tall as possible. I'm not a short woman, but Mr. March was so tall that I only came up to his shoulder.
Mr. March gave me a tight smile. “Call me Thomas,” he said. “Hannah, in here!”
I expected to see a little girl run into the room, but instead a gorgeous girl in her mid-twenties came waltzing in, wiggling her hips from side to side. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair and pale skin. I flushed again – was this his wife? His girlfriend?
“This is my assistant, Hannah,” Thomas said. “Hannah, this is June – Brett's teacher.”
Hannah smiled with her mouth but not with her eyes. “Pleased,” she simpered. She sat down and scooted close – very close – to Thomas.
“Hannah's just helping me out with some things this afternoon,” Thomas said. “I hope you don't mind that she came.”
Hannah glared at me.
“No, it's fine,” I said quickly. “Look, I know you're probably really busy, so I'll get right to the point. Brett is a smart kid – I can tell, just by listening to him talk. But he's been picking on another student, even going so far as to yank her hair. He made her cry yesterday,” I added. “I'm sorry to be the one to tell you.”
Thomas scowled.
“That's just how kids are,” Hannah said flippantly. She tossed her blonde locks over one shoulder. “He probably has a crush on her.”
“Hannah, please,” Thomas said curtly. “This isn't about you.”
Hannah sulked and I had to suppress a grin.
“That's a pretty outdated way of looking at things,” I said, trying to keep my voice as even as possible. “We take physical assault very seriously at P.S. 151, and Brett can't attack this girl again without being written up and sent to the principal.”
Thomas nodded. He looked very stern, and a thrill shot down my back.
