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“I made friends with some ladies I met at the bakery up the street, and they just welcomed me into their group. And I have the job at the snobby pre-school. I really love it here.”
She looks at me with fear shining in her eyes. “Is that okay? I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop and ruin it all.”
“What do you mean?”
“Is it okay that I’m here? Do you want me to leave?”
Her voice was a little shaky on that last question, and my insides melt like ice cream on a hot day. Is she truly afraid I would take this from her? I had read between her story lines when she was describing her childhood, and I want to line up everyone who hurt and punch them in the fucking face. Or worse.
“No one can stop you from being here, Lorelai. Not even me.” My voice comes out a little fiercer than expected, so I dial it back. “But I absolutely don’t want you to leave.”
She breathes out a ragged sigh, which tells me she was either worried I’d kick her out of town or starting to let down her guard. I have a feeling it’s the first one.
Now that I’ve reassured her that it’s okay for her to stay, she seems... Lighter. But me? Damn. The idea of seeing her every day and not having her is kicking me in the balls.
I ask if she’s looking for a place to rent, and she tells me how much she loves the B & B and watching the interaction with the sisters. “I know I’ll want my own place sometime soon, but for now this is lovely.”
“I heard you’re invited to our monthly dinner,” I tell her.
“Our?” There's a quizzical scrunch on her face that makes me want to kiss her nose. But I stay seated.
“I had started a monthly dinner for our Team to get out and socialize when we first started. It’s grown into a larger group now with all our friends joining. I handed over the reins to my boss’s wife, Camilla after they got married.”
“Oh, Cami!” she squeals. “I love her. She is amazing. She made me feel like I had a friend right away.”
“She’s pretty special.”
“She did invite me to a group dinner.” Her face falls. “Do you want me to say I can’t go?”
“Lorelai. No. I’m never going to stand in your way of making friends and feeling a part of a group. No one else should have that power, either.” I hold her gaze with its blue rim having narrowed until all I can see is molten silver. “If anyone crosses that line, throw them backward. Even if it’s me.”
I see her posture straighten. “You’re right. My therapist tells me all the time not to accept that from anyone.” She looks down at her hands. “But, James, you're not just anyone.”
Warmth rushes through me at that. As much as I’d admonished myself for ignoring our age difference, I had known she was special to me. It had hurt my feelings she hadn’t wanted to find me, but there's a thrill in knowing I’m different to her also. That is going to have to be enough.
“Then, it’s settled. I’ll see you at dinner next week. And I’ll send you an email in the morning about my talk with Emilie tonight.” I stand up and run the backs of my fingers down her healed cheek. Her lips part on a soft sigh, and I know I better exit while I still can.
“I really don’t know what to do with this, Lorelai. We can’t... Date. You’re young. You deserve to experience life. And with you being Emilie’s teacher, there’s a conflict of interest.” Her face goes blank, and I know by now that means she doesn’t want me to see her reaction. I wonder if I hurt her feelings, and I hate that I had to. “I have to get back.”
I turn and walk out without risking a look back, shutting the door softly behind me.
Chapter 27
~~ Lorelai ~~
"Thank you for taking time to meet with me, Mrs. Corbyn,” I turn back, closing her office door. I allow my nervous hands to shake for a split second, but then I squeeze them into tight fists and release the emotion with the unclenching and turn back.
I've been here two months now, proving every day I can handle administrative tasks in addition to settling any conflicts between students and teacher, teacher and teacher, teacher and parents. She's slowly relinquished control over those situations entirely and has given over the opening and closing to me, too.
“Are you asking for a raise already? I can’t afford to pay you more right now.” She sniffs and adjusts her position in her seat.
“No, ma’am.” I lower myself into the padded armchair in front of her desk. “I want to thank you for giving me the past couple of months to learn the ropes. You took a risk on me fresh out of school with no real-life experience.”
“I was understaffed, and you were the sole applicant.” Mrs. Corbyn’s words sound out like punches with the door closed to the chaotic atmosphere in the common room where two classes are having lunch.
“How is Mr. Corbyn?” Empathy softens my voice.
She sniffs. “Well, that’s really none of your business, but if you must know... That pathetic excuse for a nurse they sent left him in his chair for hours again.”
