Santa's Sweetheart (The Christmas Tree Ranch #4)(28)

She’d almost reached the back door that opened on the parking lot when she heard a voice from the hallway behind her, calling her name.

“Miss Chapman. I’d like a word with you.” It was her principal, Ed Judkins.

What now? All Grace wanted to do was go home. She was tempted to pretend she hadn’t heard him. But this was her job and he was her boss. She turned around.

“Yes, Mr. Judkins, what is it you need?”

“Just to talk. We can do it in my office.” He waited for her to catch up before he spoke again. “By the way, you can call me Ed outside of school hours.”

Great.

At least it didn’t appear that she was going to get reprimanded or fired. But as she walked beside him, back the way she’d come, Grace felt a prickle of unease.

They passed through the empty outer office and into the principal’s private space in the rear. After opening the door for her, he closed it behind them and motioned her to a seat on the padded chair that faced his desk. Grace had expected him to sit behind the desk, but he remained on his feet, prowling the room as he talked.

“I just wanted to ask you how the meeting went last night,” he said. “It’s always good to keep abreast of what’s happening in the community. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, of course.” She could have answered that question outside, in the hall, Grace thought. “It was an interesting meeting. The committee decided to change the holiday party to a ball.”

“Oh? And did you make a contribution?”

“Actually, I did. I’ve been put in charge of setting up some activities for the children. I asked my students for suggestions this morning. They gave me some great ideas. Is there something you need from me, Mr. Judkins?”

“As I said, it’s Ed for now. And I hope you don’t mind my calling you Grace.”

He moved to the bulletin board behind his desk, then turned around to fix his gaze on her, an odd expression in his washed-out blue eyes. Grace stirred nervously. Was he coming on to her? Surely not. She knew for a fact that Ed Judkins was a married man. She’d even met his wife and heard mention of their two children.

“Have I done something wrong?” she ventured.

“Not at all.” He gave her a smile. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about you. But since you’re new, I just want to make sure you’re happy here. I do care about you—I care about all my teachers. But you have special qualities, Grace. I sense that you’re a very understanding woman.”

Something was going on, and it wasn’t good. Grace shifted in the chair, her mind groping for some excuse to leave. “I really need to be going,” she said, lying out of desperation. “I promised to meet a friend for coffee after school.”

He ignored her obvious discomfort. “I won’t keep you long. But I’m going through something, and sometimes I just need to talk,” he said. “Sharon, my wife, wants me out of the house. She promised I could stay through Christmas, but after that . . .” He shrugged. “I’m looking for a place to rent. If I find one, I’ll move sooner. We’re calling it a trial separation, but something tells me it’s going to be permanent.”

“That’s too bad,” Grace said. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve forgotten what being alone is like. As I say, I need someone, just to listen to me. And you strike me as a good listener, Grace.”

Moving behind her, he laid a hand on her shoulder. His touch sent a cold shock through her body. She needed to get out of here.

“This isn’t a good idea,” she said, twisting free, rising from her chair, and turning to face him. “If you need to talk, maybe you should get some counseling, Mr. Judkins. Right now, I have to go.”

Stepping around the chair, she maneuvered her way out of the principal’s office and strode down the hall toward the door. She knew Judkins was watching her. Otherwise, she’d have broken into a run.

Her heart was racing, stomach churning below her ribs. Judkins had power over her. If she wouldn’t go along with what he wanted, he could fire her from her job and smear her reputation so badly that no school would ever hire her again.

He had done nothing—only talked and laid a hand on her shoulder. But the implication had been there in twenty-point capital letters. Maybe she should have been more sympathetic, pretended to play along until she could make a graceful exit. But that would only have left the door open for the next time. She could only hope that she had made herself clear and that there would be no repercussions.

Her hand was still clutching the key to the new rental car. As she stepped out of the building, she saw the car on the far side of the parking lot. Her breath caught. Sam had outdone himself this time. The dark red Cadillac was the kind of car a visiting celebrity would drive.

Almost disbelieving, she hurried across the lot. The flashy, expensive car was bound to attract a lot of attention—maybe too much. But as long as she had it, she’d be a fool not to glean a little enjoyment from driving it. At least it might take her mind off the encounter with Ed Judkins.

The door unlocked remotely, with a click of the key fob. Grace opened it and slipped behind the wheel. The seats were upholstered in tan leather as supple as a baby’s skin. She locked the door, closing her eyes to rest them a moment as she sank into its softness. The car’s aroma seeped into her senses—a rich blend of fragrances that Grace couldn’t identify—leather, sage, some kind of expensive men’s cologne . . . Maybe this was the smell of money. Whatever it was, she could get used to it.