Page 70 of The Headmaster’s Rule

I blow out a breath, surveying the work on my desk. Nothing appeals to me after seeing Eleanor. The sweet scent of roses clings to the air, and I lie back in my chair, closing my eyes as I breathe it in, wishing I wasn’t so rule-abiding.

Wishing I’d asked her to stay and lock the door.

A knock has me sitting up hopefully, despite myself, but it’s only Danny.

“Hey, man,” he says, sauntering into the room. “I’ve just had a call from a parent about Tim Stiles in AP Bio. Do you know about that?”

I give an exasperated chuckle. “They called you, too? I just got off the phone. We’re meeting in an hour.”

I’m still tingling from that phone call, Eleanor’s dexterous fingers working into the knot above my shoulder blade, the way my skin erupted in goosebumps as she raked her fingers over my scalp.

“Cool.” He leans against my bookshelves, crossing his feet at the ankles and regarding me curiously. “Are you okay?”

My gaze swings to him. “Sure. Why?”

“I don’t know.” His eyes sparkle with amusement. “You seem different. More chill.”

A laugh escapes me. “Chill? Come on, Danny. Even you’re too old for that one.”

He laughs too, shaking his head. “I mean it, Theo. Usually you’d be pacing back and forth, muttering about parent complaints and board expectations, but you’re smiling. Actually smiling.”

I smooth a hand over my chin, trying to wipe away the smile, but it’s no use. Tomorrow night I have a date with the prettiest, sweetest woman, so yeah, I’m smiling. I’m fucking smiling.

But I can’t tell Danny this.

He chuckles to himself, turning to go, then pauses in the doorway.

“Don’t forget we’ve got the Educational Leadership Summit this weekend.”

My smile vanishes. “Shit, that’s this weekend?” I’d forgotten all about it. Two days in Stamford, Connecticut, focused on “the future of private education in the digital age,” or whatever buzzwords they’ve chosen this year.

Goddammit. Of all the weekends I want free in my year, this is the one. The first weekend I have with Eleanor.

“Yep. You’re driving, right?”

I frown, wondering if there’s some way I could get out of it, then catch myself. This is exactly what I don’t want to happen. My professionalism slipping because I’m distracted by her. I should go for that reason alone. Besides, it’s paid for, and that took a pretty chunk out of the professional development budget. And what would Danny say if I canceled at the last minute?

“Yeah,” I say, suppressing a sigh. “I’ll drive.”

“I figure we can leave Friday night, grab some dinner?”

Dinner. Friday. Shit.

My heart deflates. I’ve just invited Eleanor to dinner tomorrow night—Friday—and there’s no way I’m canceling that. Not when she looked quietly thrilled by my invitation. Not when I’m already thinking about the ways I can spoil her.

No. Danny and I can leave early Saturday morning. It will have to be super early to get to Stamford on time, which means Eleanor can’t stay. I rub the back of my neck, pushing down the disappointment. An evening with her is better than nothing, and maybe it’s for the best. I’ll focus on making it romantic, rather than ripping her clothes off, like I did last night.

Even if that’s all I can think about.

“We’ll leave first thing Saturday morning,” I say, letting my gaze slide away. “I have plans Friday.”

Danny leans against my door frame, grinning. “Is that why you’re in such a good mood suddenly?”

I could tell him. Not about Eleanor, of course, but that I’ve met someone. Danny’s a nice guy, more than simply a colleague, and he’d be supportive and enthusiastic. But that would only invite questions I won’t be able to answer.

Instead, I cross the room and begin to close the door on him, feigning impatience. “Get back to work, Fells.”

He laughs, raising his hands in surrender as he steps out of the way. “Whatever you say, boss.”