Page 2 of Payback, Penelope

“You can say that again,” I blurt with a laugh and want to slap a hand over my mouth. I accidentally give Jacob an appreciative look, I think, because his nostrils flare, and his eyes dip to my chest with a lick of his lips. I follow his gaze, andshit!The top three buttons of my white blouse have come undone, exposing my racy navy blue bra—the type of lingerie I also started buying and wearing after my ex left, trying to boost my self-confidence.

He makes that choking noise again when I rush to rebutton them, and I scrunch my brows with concern. “Did you swallow your gum or something?”

“No, but I’d like to swallow something else.”

“What?”

He scratches the back of his neck and looks away. “Hmm?”

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

I’m about to call him on his bullshit when Mr. Andrews strides into the room, and I automatically back away from the door toward Jacob with a nervous smile. Mr. Andrews is around my dad’s age, but that doesn’t stop him from asking me out to dinner and drinks nearly every week, even though I’ve made it clear that I’m not interested. Since he knows my ex-husband is seventeen years older than me, he seems to think that means I’m interested inanyolder man, which just isn’t the case.

Jacob notices my reaction to Mr. Andrews’s presence and subsequent retreat, and he grips my bicep to pull me behind him. It’s ridiculous and over the top since Mr. Andrews isn’t exactly a physical threat at his advanced age, but I appreciate the protective gesture all the same.

Mr. Andrews loops his thumbs through the fraying belt loops in the waistband of his khakis that strain to stretch around his girth, undoubtedly due to too much alcohol, judging by his bulbous red nose and permanently flushed cheeks. “What’s going on here?”

I quickly slip on my heels and smooth out my hair. Jacob and I haven’t explicitly done anything wrong since there weren’t any students around to see our embrace, but Mr. Andrews looks like he walked in on Jacob nailing me to the desk.Ugh, now I’m picturing him doing just that—forcing me to bend over, slapping my ass, and then fucking me into oblivion.

Something is seriously wrong with me today.

“Nothing that concerns you,” Jacob says with his enormous fists clenched at his sides. I bet he could palm a basketball like a MNBA player with the size of them.

There’s trouble brewing on the horizon for Jacob since Mr. Andrews is buddy-buddy with the principal, Mr. Garnet. He’s had Mr. Garnet’s ear for the last twenty years, and it wouldn’t take much for Jacob to find himself in Mr. Garnet’s office and possibly out of a job.

I force a placating smile on my face and step around Jacob. “Good morning, Mr. Andrews. How was your summer? Is that a new haircut? It’s very trendy and looks great.”Gag. Mr. Andrews looks the same as when I started working here—more salt than pepper gray hair that he slicks back behind his ears with way too much gel. A veritable helmet of hair.

“Thank you, Ms. Barlow. It’s kind of you to notice.”Ugh,now he’s preening, rocking back and forth on his brown penny loafers that shine just as bright as the pink bald spot on the back of his head. “May I say, you look radiant as always? A sight for sore eyes. I especially enjoy the heels.” He leers at my legs below my skirt.Damnit.I’m never wearing these heels to work again.

A glance out the corner of my eye finds Jacob pinching his lips together, and once Mr. Andrews can drag his lecherous gaze from my feet, he narrows his eyes at Jacob. He sucks on his teeth, then sticks his ham of a hand out to shake Jacob’s. “We haven’t met yet. I assume you’re the new hire, Mr. Prudencio?”

Jacob stares at Mr. Andrews’s outstretched hand, then finally grips and tugs on it, making Mr. Andrews stumble forward. “That’s me.”

I step between the two men to deescalate the bizarre interaction, forcing Jacob to drop Mr. Andrews’s now stark white hand, restoring his circulation. “Well! Now that introductions are out of the way, I think it’s time we leave Jacob—I mean, Mr. Prudencio—to his lesson plans, shall we?”

Mr. Andrews doesn’t take the hint to leave and crosses his arms over his beer belly. “First name basis already, huh? You two know each other?”

“Oh, yes! He was a neighbor kid back when I lived in Tyler before moving to Fort Worth, though we haven’t seen each other in years.”

Jacob scoffs. “Kid.”

I turn to face him, and he looks ready to grind his teeth to nubs. I widen my green and gold hazel eyes at him, silently telling him to cool it. “It was great catching up with you, J—Mr. Prudencio. Tell your mom I said ‘hi’.” Then I swerve around Mr. Andrews, hoping he’ll follow me out of the room like a puppy. My relief is short-lived when he does because it means he’s probably staring at my ass.

I hurry to my classroom across the hall from Jacob’s and two doors down. “Back to work,” I say with a chipper voice before closing my classroom door, shutting Mr. Andrews out just when he opens his mouth, no doubt to ask me out again. I lean against the wall, count to sixty, then peek through the narrow window cutout in the door to make sure Mr. Andrews is gone before I relax.

Blowing out a sigh, I drop onto my swivel chair behind my messy desk, unbutton my blouse halfway down, and fan myself with a clipboard. Sweat pools between my breasts, and I’m not entirely sure if it’s due to the weak air conditioning or the unexpected lust I saw budding in Jacob’s eyes.

A blur of white draws my attention, and I find Jacob staring at me through the cutout. Another drop of sweat trickles down my chest, and I slowly turn in my chair to face the door fully and lazily fan myself. His eyes dip to my chest, and I make no move to button myself back up again. I even go so far as to arch my back.

Jacob drops his forehead to the pane of glass like he’s trying to get a closer look but then snaps his head to the side and walks away. A second later, Mrs. Barry—Sandra—the teacher whose classroom I share a wall with, peeks through the window and gives me a little wave. I slap the clipboard to my chest to cover myself when she opens the door and pokes her unnatural fire-engine-red head in.

“Drinks at Garfield’s, four o’clock. Be there or be square.” Though Sandra is twenty years my senior, she sure knows how to party, and she’s always arranging these after-work get-togethers to bitch about the few parents who make us question why we continue teaching when we have to deal with them and their endless e-mails and complaints.

A cold drink is exactly what I need. “Sure thing.”

Sandra moves to close the door but stops and hits me with, “Oh, by the way, I invited the new teacher, Mr. Prudencio. If I were you, I’d climb him like a—well, you know.” My mouth drops open because it’s like she can read my mind, and she shoots me a wink before leaving my room with a cackle.

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