He straightened, looking straight down his nose at her. “I don’t think you do. Mr. Sutton is the type that many women lose their heads around. He must leave this campus raving about it, but he’s not the one who matters. One Barrington enrolled at our school would change everything. That should be your goal. Make that happen and my job is secure . . . as is yours.”
Angelina rose to her feet in response to the threat as well as the insult. His opinion of her might not matter on a personal level, but it did when it came to remaining employed at the school. “I assure you that Mr. Sutton will leave impressed, and my goal has always been to secure the future of Reemsly.”
“I will concede that asking Mr. Sutton to speak to our drama department about his sudden success was brilliant.”
And not my idea. The head of the drama department, Mary Kleplin, has a crush on him and encouraged her students to write to him, but I’m not about to say that. “It certainly opened the door for new opportunities. I look forward to hearing what Mr. Sutton has to say on the subject.”
“This is an opportunity that cannot be taken lightly.”
Angelina straightened her skirt. “It won’t be.” She walked toward the door.
“Miss Kroll.”
Angelina stopped just outside his office. “Yes?”
“Keep Miss Kleplin in check. I’m well aware of that situation.”
“Yes, sir.” She waited, but he’d returned to his desk and was once again looking at the screen of his computer. She closed the door behind her and sighed.
As she walked by the secretary’s desk, the woman looked up and waved for her to approach. “Was it about Whitney? I heard about what happened on the soccer field yesterday. Boys can be brutal at that age.”
“The soccer field?”
Mrs. Tellier had been at Reemsly as long as anyone could remember. Her welcoming smile had put Angelina at ease on her first day at the school and many times since. Mr. Svete was the third headmaster she’d worked under. Nothing happened at the school Mrs. Tellier didn’t know about. She grimaced and lowered her voice. “He didn’t tell you? In PE class the Keaton boy knocked him to the ground after he made a goal. You should encourage Whitney to join the team. The coach turns a blind eye to anyone but his stars, and your son is good.”
“Whitney doesn’t like sports.” Angelina wrung her hands together. “Nothing happened to Keaton?”
“He blamed Whitney for stealing the shot from him. You didn’t hear it from me, but one of the kids saw Keaton kicking Whitney while he was down. I heard about it this morning. I’d suggest you speak to the coach, but that’s like talking to a wall.”
“Oh, I will speak with Mr. Hamilton, but I’ll talk to Whitney first. Thanks for telling me. Whitney hates it when I get involved, but that’s not right. The school has a zero-bullying policy.”
“Policies don’t work unless they’re enforced and sadly this problem is top-down. Mr. Brennan would have never tolerated such things, not even from our legacy children.”
“I remember.” Under Mr. Brennan’s reign neither the students nor the faculty had made Angelina feel unwelcomed even as a teen mother. The culture back then had been about academics, personal growth, and inclusion. His retirement had been a sad day for everyone at the school, and unfortunately the climate on campus had changed along with its administration.
Mrs. Tellier snapped her fingers. “I have an idea. I know Mr. Sutton is coming to the school to give a talk about his movie, but you could have him say a few words about good sportsmanship to some of the boys as well. There’s always the wow factor of meeting someone famous, even for these children. The problem isn’t just Keaton or Whitney. Watching nothing happen and feeling voiceless affects every child in this school. I’d say it, but I’m helping my granddaughter pay for her college loans. Otherwise I’d already be retired.”
Mr. Svete calls firing anyone who disagrees with him “cleaning house.” She’s right to lie low. And how sad that this is our new normal. Angelina leaned over and gave one of Mrs. Tellier’s hands a comforting squeeze. “You don’t have to say anything, I’ll handle this, but thank you for telling me.”
A smile returned to Mrs. Tellier’s face. “Don’t frown like that when you meet Connor Sutton. He is one fine-looking man. And single. I wonder if his taste is slightly overweight women in their late sixties? I used to do some things with my husband that had him smiling for days.”
With a laugh, Angelina straightened. “Let’s keep that story to ourselves.”
“You’ll bring him by to meet me, though, won’t you?” Mrs. Tellier wiggled her eyebrows. “I promise I won’t throw myself at him unless he begs me to.”
Angelina wagged a finger at her. “Should I invest in a whip to keep you all in line when he’s here?”
Mrs. Tellier fanned her face. “Child, if you don’t already own a whip, you have no business being the one who gets to spend time with a man like that. I watched his movie ten times. He was sent down from heaven for no other reason than to be enjoyed.”
With another laugh and a shake of her head, Angelina backed out of the room. “Promise me you won’t talk like that when he’s here.”
“Promise you’ll bring him by to meet me.”
“Deal.” I think. She paused. “I have to do this well, Mrs. Tellier. There’s a lot riding on his visit.”
Suddenly serious, Mrs. Tellier said, “It’ll be fine. Just be yourself, Angelina. Remember, all the dark does is help you see how bright you can shine.”
“Mr. Brennan used to say that.” Angelina looked back at Mr. Svete’s closed door with a longing to see his predecessor walk through it. “And he was right. Thank you, Mrs. Tellier.”
It wasn’t until Angelina was back in her own office that she was able to close the door and let out a shaky breath. There’s no reason I can’t do this.
I just have to keep moving forward and show Whitney how to do the same.
We’ll figure out the Keaton thing.
Whitney and I aren’t going anywhere.
Connor Sutton, hold your hat, because I’m about to impress the shit out of you.
Chapter Two
Connor drove a shiny new blue Mercedes Benz GLS up the long tree-lined entrance to the school. It wouldn’t have been his first choice, and his large frame barely fit inside it. Still, it was a Mercedes and it was free. Funny how easily things were sent to people who didn’t need them. Everyone wanted him to wear their clothing, drive their cars, visit their clubs. No one would have given him shit before he could afford to buy it for himself. The world had it backward.
The morning rain had cleared and after he parked he took a moment to admire the rainbow arching over the tall brick main building. Did they order it or does even nature provide the wealthy with extra little perks?
He lowered the visor and met his gaze in the mirror, narrowing his eyes as he did. You’ve got this. Silence is your armor. Give the speech Claire wrote, smile only when you have to, and get the hell out. He put on a pair of mirrored sunglasses. Keep them guessing, and maintain the advantage.