Page 31 of Yours for the Taking (Falling For A Rose)

“All right, now I’m excited.”

“Don’t act like you’re not excited about dating Jacob, even if he does have a past. Exes are full of shit. Don’t you feel the same?”

Bringing up Lennox made Carla’s mind shift to his announcement.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And did you see his press statement today?”

“I did.”

“Who does he think will vote for him, as corrupt as his father was?”

“Unfortunately, the people who wanted his father in power will vote for him and possibly do all kind of illegal shit to get him there. But let’s just hope he’s not like his father and has no connection with those people.”

“Wait, why do you care?”

“You should care, too. We have to live here. If he becomes mayor and he’s corrupt, we’re all in for a bit of trouble.”

“Amen to that,” Pricilla said. “Maybe we should join Mayor Luke Steele’s reelection campaign.”

“There’s an idea,” Carla said. “And since you brought it up, get some information for us and let us know how we can help.”

“Look at you,” Tina teased, “Over there ready to help your man’s best friend, I see you.”

“Bye.”

Carla disconnected the call and shook her head.

She and Tina hit it off so well because they were much alike. Both ambitious. Both smoked a little weed now and then. Both were funny as hell, or so they were told. Both grew up in the southside of Chicago, Illinois. They knew what it meant to struggle on your way up. Or fake it till you make it.

With that in mind, Carla still wished Lennox the best and hoped he was on the straight and narrow.

Chapter Nine

Knock. Knock.

“Come in.”

Carla entered Principal Sharp’s office and sat after he ushered her to the leather seat in front of his desk.

“And we could use the extra equipment. Thank you so much. I’m looking forward to it. Have a good day.” Principal Sharp dropped the receiver in the phone’s cradle and looked at Carla.

“Good evening, Ms. Jones.” His eyes ran over her navy-blue long-sleeve blouse and knee-length black skirt. “What can I help you with?”

He slid the bifocals back up his broad nose, still squinting even though the lens was at its highest prescription.

“Principal Sharp, I’m noticing a pattern with my students. When they come back from holiday breaks or even sometimes when they come off a weekend, they’re wearing the latest brand names and showing off their gadgets.”

“If it’s disruptive to the class, you know you can always collect those items until the end of the school day.”

“It’s not just that. There’s becoming an increase in bullying because of it.”

Principal Sharp was a seventy-four-year-old Caucasian man who had seen his fair share of troubled kids. But he also believed in them and wanted to give them the option to do better instead of forcing them with discipline.

“What do you propose, Ms. Jones?”

“Two things. Uniforms. If we make it a priority, then everyone would be dressed in the same thing. It would eliminate room for kids to bully others about what they wear.”

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