Page 32 of The Headmaster’s Rule

I blow my breath out slowly. That’s still a few hours away, later than I was hoping to work. But it’s not like I had anything else planned besides walking Skye on the beach.

And, as sad as it is to admit this, I’m looking forward to seeing him. To being alone with him. After our meeting last week, then that strange moment in class today, things feel different. I might not know exactly how he feels, but I know it’s not the same as when we first met. And I’m curious to explore it more.

Eleanor: Of course. See you then.

I set my phone down, thinking. Six-thirty is a late start; I usually eat dinner at seven. Maybe I could bring food to the meeting, a little gesture to help us relax as we work. Would that be weird? Too informal, too friendly? And what would I get? What if he’s allergic to something, or doesn’t eat meat…

A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts, and I look up to see Juliana. I wave her inside.

“Hey.” She smiles, closing the door behind her. Today she’s in high-waisted cropped black pants and heels, a crisp, starched white shirt, with a string of pearls around her neck. As always, utter class. “How’s your day been?” she asks as she perches on the edge of my desk.

“Good,” I say, wondering if I should mention her father reading a story to the class. She’ll probably find it funny. “Headmaster Wright visited the class and read a story to the kids.”

Her jaw falls open. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” I say, laughing. “I mean, he was reluctant, but he did it.”

“Wow.” She gives a slow, disbelieving shake of her head. “That’s… out of character.”

“I thought so.”

Her gaze sparkles as it moves over me. “How is it going with him, anyway?”

I open and close my mouth, unsure how to answer. She’s not referring to my inadvertent crush, is she? My pulse spikes at the thought, but she laughs.

“I meant the fundraiser, Nora.”

“Oh.” I huff awkwardly. “Of course. It’s going well, I think.” I hesitate, then add, “He… approved my idea.”

A grin breaks across her face. “That’s awesome! Congrats.” She nudges my shoulder. “I like to think I had a little something to do with that.” When I shoot her a questioning look, she adds, “I told him he should give you a chance.”

“You went in to bat for me?” I ask, surprised. I showed her my Safe Harbor proposal the same day I presented it to Danny and Headmaster Wright, only because she asked. I’d never expected her to speak to her father about it.

“Of course. Safe Harbor is a great idea.”

I smile, touched. “Thanks so much.”

She stands, stretching. “Well, I’ve got a yoga class to get to. Just wanted to pop in and say hi.”

I grin. At my last school, there were a lot of cliques among the faculty that meant making new friends was challenging, but Juliana has made me feel so welcome here. So has Paige, the new guidance counselor. We’re all around the same age, maybe we should go for a drink or something together sometime. I make a mental note to set something up later as Juliana turns for the door.

“Have a great night.”

“You too,” I call. Then, “One question.” She pauses in the doorway, turning back to me, and I ask, “Does your dad like Thai food?”

Headmaster Wright is not in the conference room when I go upstairs at 6:30. It’s eerily quiet at this time of night, the hallway lit with an orange glow as the sun sinks toward the horizon, casting shadows at unusual angles. I’m used to this place in the morning, with the smell of coffee and the low buzz of chatter among the faculty before the morning meeting. Even the meetings I’ve had with him so far have all been after school. Something about meeting him at this time of the evening feels… secretive. Like I’m sneaking into his office after hours. Doing something I shouldn’t.

Margaret isn’t at her desk either, and I hesitate in the hallway. Did I get the time wrong? The day? I check my phone to confirm, then, balancing the takeout in one arm, tentatively knock on his door.

There’s a noise inside, and he appears in the doorway, looking flustered. Looking… a little undone. His jacket is gone, leaving him in his shirt and vest, tie loose, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows. I try not to look, I really do, but my gaze betrays me by falling to the tanned skin of his forearms, corded with veins.

Holy shit.

I know they’re only forearms, but also… seeing them is like getting a glimpse behind the curtain, behind the carefully controlled, formidable facade of the headmaster to the man himself. An image flashes suddenly through my mind; those forearms pinning my hands above my head as he moves over me, and heat curls through my bloodstream, making me breathless. What does the rest of him look like underneath that suit? God, I need to know.

I catch myself, mortified, and whip my gaze back to his. There’s a deep frown chiseled in his brow, and I can only hope he can’t read my thoughts on my face.

Crap. We’re not off to a good start.