Dark Notes(5)

“Remember our agreement.” Her elbows press against her sides, her eyes overly bright, almost glassy. “Keep your mouth shut and let me herd the sheep and their frivolous chatter.”

She says this as if I should be impressed by her unethical business practices. But what she’s inadvertently done is shown her hand. Her fear is palpable. She wrongfully fired a tenure-track teacher and paid the woman to shut up, all to bring me here for her personal gain. If she truly had control of the situation, she wouldn’t have felt the need to initiate this conversation. She’s cold-blooded enough to destroy people’s lives, but that doesn’t mean she’s prepared to play this game. My game.

I rub a thumb over my bottom lip, delighting in the way her eyes reluctantly follow the movement.

The skin above her buttoned collar flushes. “It’s paramount that we keep the attention on your achievements as an educator.” She lifts her chin. “I expect you to set a professional example in the classroom—”

“Do not tell me how to do my job.” I was a well-respected instructor before I climbed the administrative ranks. Fuck her and her self-righteous audacity.

“Like most teachers, you seem to have a problem with learning. So try to pay attention.” She angles forward, her tone low and clipped. “I will not have your perversions darkening the corners of my school. If your misconduct at Shreveport is repeated here, the deal is off.”

The reminder of what I lost sparks a fire in my chest. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned Shreveport. Why? Are you curious?” I level a challenging look at her. “Go ahead, Beverly. Ask your burning questions.”

She breaks eye contact, her neck stiffening. “One does not hire a whore to hear about his exploits.”

“Oh, I’m a whore now? Are you changing the terms of our deal?”

“No, Mr. Marceaux. You know why I hired you.” Her voice raises an octave. “With the explicit stipulation that there would be no indiscretions.” She lowers her tone. “I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

I’ve allowed her the upper hand since the moment she contacted me. It’s time to see how she navigates through a little humiliation.

Angling forward, I grip the armrests of her chair and cage her in. “You’re lying, Beverly. I think you want to hear all the dirty details of my indiscretions. Shall I describe the positions that were used, the sounds she made, the size of my cock—?”

“Stop!” She sucks in a breath, a hand trembling against her chest before clenching her fist and plastering on the dignified expression she shows the world. “You’re disgusting.”

I chuckle and rest back in the chair.

She jumps to her feet, glaring down at me. “Stay away from my faculty, specifically the women in my employ.”

“I checked out the offerings in this morning’s meeting. You should really update the scenery.”

There were a few tight-bodied teachers, plenty of interested glances my way, but I’m not here for that. I have dozens of women ready to bend over at my call, and my mistake at Shreveport… My jaw stiffens. It’s one I won’t make again.

“You, on the other hand…” I let my gaze travel over her rigid posture. “You look like you could use a good hard f*ck.”

“You’re out of line.” Her warning tone loses its effect with the wobble of her heels as she backs away.

She turns and flees toward the head of the table. The farther she moves away from me, the stronger her gait becomes. A few more steps and she glances over her shoulder as if expecting to catch my eyes on her flat ass. I shudder. The arrogant bitch actually thinks I’m interested.

I stand, slide a hand in the pocket of my slacks, and stroll toward her. “Is Mr. Rivard not meeting your demands in the bedroom?”

She reaches the end of the table and gathers her papers, refusing to meet my eyes. “Continue this behavior, and I’ll make sure you never see the inside of a classroom again.”

Her illusion of control makes it damn hard to keep my proverbial teeth sheathed.

I step into her space, crowding her. “Threaten me again, and you’ll regret the outcome.”

“Move back.”

Leaning in, I let my breath brush her ear. “Everyone has secrets.”

“I don’t—”

“Is Mr. Rivard warming another bed?”

It’s just a guess, but the slight tremor in her hand tells me I’m onto something.

Her nostrils flare. “Outrageous.”

“What about your perfect son? What has he done to put you in this precarious position?”

“He’s done nothing wrong!”

I wouldn’t be here if that were true. “You’re trembling, Beverly.”

“This conversation is over.” She steps around me, eyes on the door, and trips.

Her balance teeters, papers tumble from her hands, and she falls to her knees at my feet. Perfect.

She casts me a startled look, and as she realizes I made no move to catch her, her upturned face deepens into a self-effacing shade of red.

Snapping her eyes to the floor, she collects her things with angry movements. “Hiring you was a mistake.”

I step onto the page she’s reaching for and glare down at the top of her head. “Then fire me.”