Chapter 2

TWO

NOLAN

Eleven minutes ago

T he hope I've been clinging to for the last sixteen hours dies a swift death when I enter the chilly conference room and am met with a wall of scowls. Their expressions make it all too clear this meeting is not a formality. I'm not just getting a slap on the wrist.

Will they fire me?

The woman I met at a bar and took back to my place last weekend wasn't the unattached stranger I thought she'd been.

Nope.

She's married . And not just married. She's married to Stuart, who was elected head of the Little Acres Board of Directors last year. Technically, he isn't my boss. However, the headmaster of the preschool answers to the board, so I'm basically fucked. And not in a good way.

I swallow the lump in my throat and shuffle forward.

Stuart's cheeks are even ruddier than normal as he glares at me like I'm scum beneath his shoe. I can't believe I slept with his wife. I wonder if she knew who I was.

At this point, I suppose it doesn't matter.

Determined not to show my discomfort, I maintain a casual demeanor, keeping my limbs loose and my expression relaxed, as I take a seat. It isn't easy with the way my palms are sweating or the way my shirt collar is choking me.

I cling to my dignity like it'll somehow protect me.

Judging by the look on Stuart's face, it isn't going to be enough. The board members' averted gazes and uncomfortable shifting convinces me that they aren't going to support me. Not on this. I'm on my own.

I probably shouldn't blame them, but I do. I've been an excellent headmaster, and they know it.

"Mr. Byrne. Thank you for joining us," Patty, the secretary of the board, says. I smile weakly. It isn't like I had a choice. I was summoned. "Here at Little Acres Academy, the character of our teachers and administrators is of the utmost importance. You might remember that when you were originally hired, and again when we appointed you headmaster, you signed a morality agreement."

She reaches across the table and places a copy in front of me. There's no reason for me to pick it up. I know what it says, and I also know I'm not in violation of it. The truth is, even if I had known about Carla being married to Stuart, I'm an unattached man; I can sleep with whomever I want—as long as it's consensual and private.

It isn't private anymore.

I barely resist squeezing my eyes closed. It won't help, anyway. There's no escaping the fact that I've seen Stuart's wife's lips wrapped around my dick.

I've never been more thankful that my olive skin tone doesn't broadcast my embarrassment. I wish I'd attended Stuart's wedding rather than visiting my brother during spring break. If I had, I would've recognized Carla as his wife. Her lilting accent would have held no appeal. And I definitely wouldn't have brought her back to my place.

All evidence to the contrary, my desire to get laid does not supersede my common sense. I find no satisfaction in sleeping with someone I shouldn't. And I don't get off on the forbidden. Years of watching my father sleep with every woman who catches his fancy has made me sensible.

Not sensible enough, apparently.

"I haven't violated the agreement," I respond as evenly as I can.

"You fucked my wife." Stuart's voice is cold and controlled.

I don't flinch, but I want to. Goodbye dignity.

Stuart has been a thorn in my side since last year when he became director. He fights me on everything, from salaries to training to discipline. He has no respect for educators—or anyone he deems inferior—and it's obvious he doesn't care whether I violated the policy or not.

For a brief second, I consider leveraging my father's name. If they knew who he was, the other members of the board might be willing to support me.

I tug at my collar and keep my mouth shut. It might be foolish, but I earned this job on my own merits, and even now, as I'm about to lose it, I don't want to rely on my famous father to save me.

When I don't respond, Stuart asks, "Why did you choose Carla? Did you think you could use her as leverage to increase teacher salaries?"

I almost laugh. Is he kidding? What kind of man sleeps with a woman for leverage? The urge to defend myself spikes. "I didn't know she was your wife."

"Bullshit," he spats. "She drops Kendal and Barnaby at school every Thursday."

"I'm not generally present at the carpool line," I respond, clinging to my composure. I do know most of the parents by sight, but we haven't started our end of the year events yet, so it isn't that shocking that I haven't met his wife of less than a month.

He shakes his head and scoffs. "I won't let you get away with this. Little Acres will not allow a sexual deviant to be our headmaster."

Patty gasps. " Stuart ."

I try not to react. At least not outwardly.

She leans over and whispers in his ear. She's a high-powered defense attorney, so it isn't hard to guess what she's saying. They may want to fire me, but they don't want to get sued.

She turns her attention back to me with a tight smile. "What Stuart meant to say is that the board is concerned it may not be in the best interest of the students for you to remain headmaster. Kendal and Barnaby might be permanently scarred if they're forced to regularly encounter the man who slept with their new stepmother."

I wait to see if she has anything else to say, but she remains silent. The urge to stand up and walk right out of the room is almost impossible to resist. Why is this happening to me?

"It doesn't seem appropriate to share the details of my sex life with preschoolers," I finally reply.

Patty purses her lips. Some of the board members shift uncomfortably. It's a hard point to argue, but Stuart makes a valiant effort. "They wanted to know why Carla left."

"And you told them?" What in the hell is wrong with him?

"I don't believe in lying to my children," he says stiffly.

"It hardly matters why they know," Patty interrupts. "The fact remains that they do know. And we know. Carla was not subtle in her…praise of you."

I feel heat creeping up my neck. I hate having my personal life judged and dissected. I feel violated, both by Carla and the people in this room. Even though my sex life consists mostly of one-night stands, I don't kiss and tell.

Unfortunately, it seems like Carla does .

I can't take it anymore. My skin is crawling with discomfort. The anger that was cresting moments ago has died. In its place, there's only emptiness. "Let's get this over with."

Patty nods briskly. "Everyone in favor of removing Nolan Byrne as headmaster, say ‘aye.'"

There is zero eye contact, and a chorus of "ayes."

No one says nay.

Patty pushes another set of papers and a fountain pen across the table. "In return for your discretion, we have provided you with a generous severance package. You'll need to initial the first two pages and sign the last." She pauses. "You may have your own counsel review the document before you sign, but you need to return it to me by eight on Monday morning if you want to receive the severance. We'd like to get this wrapped up before the school day starts."

The paperwork is straightforward and easy to understand—I don't require a lawyer to explain it to me. If I sign, I give up the right to appeal. And I won't be able to discuss why I'm no longer employed. In return, I'll get a payout of slightly more than my yearly salary.

Two of my older brothers and one of my older sisters are lawyers. They would probably love to read the document over and advise me, but I have no interest in dragging this out, so I pick the pen up and initial the top of each page, then scrawl my name at the bottom of the last one. When I'm done, I unclip my badge from my belt loop and toss it on the table.

That's that.

I'm officially unemployed.

I stand up and walk out of the conference room without another word. As quickly as I can, I slip out the back entrance because even though my car is parked out front, I can't spend another second trapped in that building.

As soon as I feel the heat of the sun, I stop and pop the top two buttons of my shirt. The relief is immediate. I've never felt like my shirt was choking me before, but then again, I've never been the subject of such a sordid meeting, either.

I give myself a minute to breathe before I turn and walk along the sidewalk that leads toward the sports complex the preschool shares with the primary school. When the walkway forks, I take the path toward the parking lot. The stately brick buildings, the perfectly manicured hedges, the blooming flowers, and the lush green grass surround me for the last time.

I blink back tears and tell myself everything happens for a reason.