Page 33 of The Headmaster’s Rule

“I, uh, brought dinner,” I say meekly, holding up a container of Massaman Curry. “I heard you like Thai food, so…” He stares at me silently, and I shrink, glancing along the deserted hall. I’m reminded of the man I first met, the one who was so closed off and dismissive it was like trying to converse with a brick wall, and wonder if I should leave.

But when I glance back, his expression has softened. “You didn’t have to do that, Eleanor.”

My heart skips. Eleanor. He called me Eleanor again.

He eyes me for a moment, as if weighing something, then steps back from the door, motioning for me to enter. I breathe out in relief, stepping into his office. His desk is full of papers, so I take the food to the low table in front of the fireplace.

Then I stand awkwardly, not sure what to do next. It would be weird if I sat down and started eating, even if I’m hungry and the food smells amazing.

But Headmaster Wright looks unsettled, hovering near the doorway, his expression inscrutable, his body language tense. It was a mistake to bring the food, I realize, and embarrassment warms my cheeks. What was I thinking?

He exhales long and slow, and his posture relaxes a little with it. “That smells really good,” he admits, pushing the door to his office closed at last. “And I’m starving. Shall we eat?”

Oh, thank God.

I nod. He crosses the room to the food, stopping to switch on a banker’s lamp that sits on the sideboard. It casts a soft glow over the room, and it occurs to me that under the right circumstances, this evening could be considered romantic.

For God’s sake, Eleanor. Get a grip.

Headmaster Wright sinks wearily into one of the chairs, opening the food. The smell of Pad Thai wafts through the room, making my mouth water. I perch on the other chair and help myself carefully to the curry, trying to reestablish a professional atmosphere. If only for my own sake.

We eat in silence, which is more awkward than I could have possibly imagined. He’s obviously famished, and I wonder when he last ate. My chest fills with warmth knowing I took care of him a little.

When we’re finally done, I clear the food from the table so we can work. He watches me move quietly through his office, tidying the takeout, pulling out my binder, and, when he doesn’t get up from the chair, bringing his laptop and glasses. I’m trying to keep the atmosphere professional, but touching his belongings feels incredibly intimate. It’s as if everything I do only makes matters worse.

Eventually, I settle in again, ready to get down to business. I open my binder, scanning our notes from last time, about to ask where he wants to start, when he speaks.

“I pitched Safe Harbor to the board this morning.”

My heart stops. “You did?”

He nods thoughtfully, steepling his fingers. “It deserved to be heard.”

I stare at him, unblinking. What did they say? I want to blurt, but my pulse rings too loud in my ears for me to get the words out.

His gaze meets mine. “They approved the pilot.”

“Really?”

Warmth lights his eyes as he nods again. “I told you it was good.”

I stare at him breathlessly. He really did it. He took my idea to the board and convinced them to sign off on it. He backed me, like he said he would.

I’m overcome by the sudden urge to throw myself into his arms and hug him, so I jam my hands under my butt to stop myself. But I can’t stop myself from gushing, “Thank you, Headmaster Wright. Thank you so much.”

And then, for the first time since meeting me, he smiles. Headmaster Wright actually, properly smiles.

It’s mesmerizing. Tiny creases fan out from around his blue eyes, his mouth curving up a little higher on the left than the right. It completely transforms his face, like a black-and-white movie remade in color. If I thought he was attractive before, this is totally next level. This is everything.

I should look away, but I can’t. He can’t either. And as we gaze at each other for a long moment, the light in his eyes shifts to something else. Something more… heated.

He swallows audibly, tearing his gaze from mine. “There are conditions,” he continues, steering us back on track.

But I’m reeling. Not from the news about Safe Harbor, from that smile. That look in his eyes.

I’m sure I didn’t imagine that.

“Of course, sir.” Shit, why does my voice sound all breathy?