9. The Rumor Mill

9

C hance Harper was trouble.

I was all too familiar with men like him.

It wasn't long ago that someone just like him had shredded what was left of my already fragile heart.

I wasn't about to let it happen all over again.

With men like him, it was all about the thrill of the chase, not what came next or the consequences left in the wake of their conquest. I couldn't deny I was physically attracted to him, but he was a liar. Now that he'd exposed himself, I couldn't unsee him for who he really was.

The entitlement oozed from every pore on his body; every word that slipped from his plush lips was calculated—these were the things I needed to focus on, to save me the hassle of falling for another in a long line of assholes that preceded him.

I had well proven to have terrible taste in men. Chance Harper would be no exception.

With only a few days until the official start of classes, I holed up in my secret lounge, savoring the last precious moments before I'd be swept up in a whirlwind of course prep, test grading, and lecture outlines. I'd put in a lot of work over the summer to prepare, but there were always things that needed to be adjusted on the fly.

Not wanting to leave my sanctuary, I selfishly texted Jolene, asking to raincheck for lunch, remembering that I had told her I'd meet her while trying to escape the mixer. Almost immediately she replied saying she was still running around like a mad woman for the headmaster with all his last-minute whims, so that worked out better for her. I promised I would still be by, food in hand, on the first day of school.

A warm breeze floated through the open windows of the attic lounge, the last wisps of summer fading along with it. A faint smell of the overripe rose garden circled the large space, pulling a dreamy sigh from my lips.

I felt change in the wind.

All my prep was seemingly paying off.

On the first day, I got to class early, only had to threaten two students with expulsion, and felt like a million bucks in my best pencil skirt and a fresh white blouse I'd gotten on clearance from the one department store in town, over the summer.

"Chef Lenny." I saluted him as I came through the kitchen doors just after lunch service began, although he was already busy prepping for dinner.

"Still haven't made any friends your own age?" Lenny grumbled.

"What's wrong with the likes of you?" I beamed.

"I'm not making you any food that isn't already on the menu." He shook his dicing blade at me across the kitchen bench where he worked diligently.

"I ask for salad one time and you never let me forget it." I rolled my eyes.

Lenny huffed.

"Relax—just grabbing two plates to go. I promised Jolene I'd bring her lunch." I scanned the top shelves for the to-go boxes he kept hidden for me.

"I heard you left the mixer with the new English teacher." Lenny side-eyed me. He was such a gossip. Usually I loved it, but today, not so much.

"Trust me, it wasn't by choice." I rolled my eyes.

Someone had moved the boxes to a shelf just out of reach for me, so I grabbed a stepladder and dragged it across the tile floor, creating a dreadful clunking noise in the process.

"Violet!" Lenny scolded.

"Sorry!" I hefted it up on my shoulder and carried it over to the shelves.

"Just be careful. You know if I'm hearing about it—"

"I know, I know." I scowled. "He insisted on walking me to my room in front of the headmaster—who has his head so far up Chance's—"

"Violet!" Lenny admonished.

I teetered on the stepladder to reach the boxes. "The point is, I didn't have a choice." I plucked two containers from behind a stack of Bundt pans. "You don't have to worry about anything happening between us. I think he's atrocious." It wasn't exactly a lie.

Lenny narrowed his gaze, seeing right through me, but amused by my distaste, nonetheless. "Remember, there are eyes and ears everywhere at Montgomery," he warned me solemnly.

I frowned at his comment, knowing he was right. With a quick salute, I headed toward the food staging area to fill the containers up. Jolene wouldn't mind if her food didn't look as meticulous as Lenny instructed his staff, so I dumped the pork belly, fingerling potatoes, and asparagus all together in each container.

The sous chef assembling plates to my right looked horrified, but silently handed me two forks, despite his outraged scowl.

By taking back service hallways, I was able to avoid running into any students or staff. However I had no choice but to pass through the main entrance hall to access the stairwell that led to the administrative offices below.

It was there that Chance Harper stood, his piercing blue-grey eyes alight when he spotted me.

I was ashamed to admit that my heart might have skipped a beat and my eyes, of their own accord, raked down his lean form, clad in black trousers that fit him perfectly and another crisp white shirt, sans tie, that was somehow so much whiter and brighter than my own.

The image and feel of his body pressed against mine, his mouth on me, his hands coiled around my waist, pulling me to him, flashed through my mind, causing a full-body blush.

Why did he have to be so attractive, and even worse, such a good kisser when he was also a liar and a scoundrel?

Anger and desire coursed through me in a simultaneous dance, vying for dominance.

I hated that I'd told him to leave me alone, and yet there he was.

I hated that while we both existed at Montgomery, there was no escaping him.

But most of all, I hated my traitorous mind for still wanting him…for being so very pleased at the thought of him seeking me out despite my earlier attempts to rebuke him.

"I missed you at lunch, Violet." He leaned casually against the banister, careful to keep his voice low, as there were students dotted around the periphery of the large hall.

"It's Miss Price," I reminded him curtly. "And I don't eat in the dining hall." I tried to sidestep him, but he mirrored the action, blocking my access to the stairwell.

"Then where do you eat?"

Somewhere I don't have to see your stupid, handsome face.

"None of your business." I stacked the containers on top of each other so I could hold them with one arm, allowing me to use the other to shove him to the side.

"I'll see you around, Violet." I couldn't tell if his tone was mocking or resigned.

Being that I wanted to dislike him, I decided on the former, muttering words of distaste for him under my breath as I made my descent.

"Jolene?" I called out as I reached the bottom of the steps.

The basement offices were in fine creepy form on the first day of school. With the weather outside being rather overcast, shadows of dubious origin lurched from every nook and cranny, only to disintegrate as they reached the cast of the even more sinister glare from the malicious overhead fluorescent lighting.

Thankfully, I'd never been to a morgue before, but I imagined it would evoke similar dread and depression as the lower level of the main building at Montgomery.

Further adding to the discomfort of the basement, the stone effectively muffled sounds, so you often didn't hear others until they were right upon you, which could be rather disconcerting. Despite the stone enhancing disembodied voices from the offices beyond the corridor, the incessant buzzing from the overhead lights always caused an immediate and slowly increasing throbbing headache to set in.

How all the staff managed to work down here every single day was beyond me. Jolene had once told me, "You get used to it," with a shrug, when I asked. I certainly would never get used to it.

"Violet!" Jolene exclaimed, her saccharine voice bouncing off the walls, producing an odd dissonance. A moment later, her head popped out of the records room door. The hallway light flickered overhead as she locked the door, making it appear as though the bright yellow school bus appliqué on her sweater was in fact moving along in jerky spasms. The motion and flashing light intensified my already present headache.

The dichotomy of the Montgomery manor home with warmly lit and comfortably upholstered areas for students on the main level contrasted greatly with the almost brutalist dungeon-like classrooms and the actual dungeon that was the lower level.

"Lunch." I held up the stacked containers with my hands. "As promised."

"Goodness, I can't believe it's almost one o'clock already. The day's just flying by." She hung her lanyard, heavy and jangling with keys, around her neck, and veered toward the couches in the waiting area just in front of her desk.

I handed her a fork and a box. We wasted no time digging into the food. Although it was lukewarm, neither of us minded.

"Lenny said people have been talking about me leaving with Chance," I grumbled, unable to keep it from her and desperate to know what she had heard herself. Jolene was the eyes and ears of Montgomery.

She shrugged. "I mean, everyone seemed a little surprised when he returned so quickly…"

I gave an exasperated sigh. "I'd like to keep my job. I'm not a rule-breaker or a risk-taker. That means nothing will happen. Ever."

"Everyone knows the headmaster doesn't enforce that rule, or he'd have to resign himself." She quietly snorted. "You could date him if you wanted to."

"I don't want to do anything with Chance Harper," I hissed. "In fact, I think I might despise him."

"What he'd do? Try to kiss you?" Jolene laughed through a bite of her food.

When I went rigid next to her, feeling the telltale burn of a blush staining my cheeks, she went silent. Again the kiss flashed through my mind. I shook my head. "It's not like that. It can't be like that," I replied adamantly.

"Okay, okay." She held up her hands in defeat. "He's cute though," she hedged. "I wouldn't blame you if you changed your mind."

I huffed indignantly, shoving my half-eaten lunch aside, having already lost my appetite at the thought of everyone talking about me. I worked so hard to not be a topic of conversation, and yet there I was, in the spotlight once again.

"I don't want people talking about me. Don't they have anything better to do than gossip?" I asked more rhetorically than anything.

"All we do is gossip." Jolene giggled, taking a sip from her water bottle. Just like her car, there were funny cat stickers covering almost all of the hot pink aluminum.

Hang in there, baby, indeed , I thought, as I read the block lettering below a cat clinging desperately to a tree branch.

"Did I miss anything after I left?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Well, I saw Serena leave with Doctor Bryant, but you didn't hear it from me." She gave me a conspiratorial nudge. "The headmaster seemed pleased; I think he set it up."

My stomach soured at the thought of him pimping out the staff to eager donors. "Gross," I muttered.

A knowing smile crept across Jolene's lips. "Don't worry about Serena. She knows how to take care of herself and wouldn't agree to anything she didn't want to do."

"And has the headmaster managed to keep Daniel's disappearance secret from the donors?" I threw at her out of left field.

Jolene choked on her food a little, disarmed by my sudden inquiry. "Violet," she hissed. "He's in his office." She nodded toward the hallway, where I could see light from his open office door spilling into the more dimly lit hallway.

"Sorry." I shrugged.

"Actually, one of the donors caught wind of it at the mixer and made a big fuss, which took him a while to diffuse. The headmaster told me to give everyone on staff strict instructions not to mention it. Not to the students. Not to the parents. Not to the donors. Not to anyone." She glared at me. "He wouldn't even let me send out an email or print a memo. ‘In-person only.'" She used air quotes around the last part to denote what he'd said to her.

"What is he trying to hide?" I scowled.

Jolene waved me off. "Let the police handle it. If they say he ran away, that's probably what happened. You won't hook up with Chance Harper to avoid breaking an antiquated rule that nobody follows, but when the headmaster himself orders everyone to keep quiet about a runaway, you're ready to throw caution to the wind?" she correctly pointed out my contradictory actions.

"You don't find it suspicious at all?"

"I don't want you to get in trouble," Jolene argued.

We both looked up upon hearing a door open down the hallway. The disembodied voices of a student arguing with one of the guidance counselors drifted closer.

"All it will take is one call from my father to get you fired," a young woman's voice snarled.

"That's fine, Miss DeLongpre." The counselor sighed, no doubt having been threatened by plenty of students.

"I won't let this go." Claire DeLongpre emerged from the hallway, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at the counselor.

"Have a nice day, Miss DeLongpre."

Claire turned on her heel to glare at Jolene and me, before snapping, "What are you staring at?" and then promptly stormed up the stairs, not bothering to wait for a response.

"What was that about?" I wondered aloud.

"She's always down here making the staff miserable." Jolene rolled her eyes.