Page 5 of Legacy of Lies
Her head came back. “No, not strangely. Look, Zach’s acting out suggests that he might be internalizing the turmoil of his mother leaving. He may be feeling insecure. If we don’t help him now, he could have problems down the road.”
“Suggest? Could have? May be? Sounds real definite.” Garrison snorted. “My family and I give him all the support he needs.”
“Of course you all do. I just—”
“Is there anything elseimportantthat we need to discuss, Ms. Lopez?” The way he said her name ... like it tasted foul.
Heat climbed her face. How the hell had she lost control of this meeting? No question, the train was well off the tracks. “No, but—”
The chair scraped backward as he stood, towering over her and the child-sized desks surrounding him. Stunned, she stood with him and circled around her desk.
“Thank you for your time.” He shoved the hat back on and headed toward the exit as she followed. As he grasped the doorknob, he spun around, his thundercloud expression turning darker. “Say, don’t you date Hank Brand?”
An imaginary fist tightened around her throat. Did they date? What a joke.
“I used to. What business—”
“What? You can pry into my past, but you don’t like that dish served to you?”
“No, it’s not—”
“Didn’t you get your teaching job here a year or so ago?” His loud voice cut through the room, loud enough for other teachers or her principal to hear. She fought the urge to shush him.
“Yes. The beginning of last year.” Before Hank dumped her.
“Isn’t Hank’s brother, Butch, the principal of this school?” Garrison pressed his mouth into a harsh line.
“No, that has nothing—” Blood drained to her feet until her head swam.
He strode back to her until he stood a foot away. “So. Let’s see if I understand. You say my son’s acting out and you think my kid needs professional help to fix him. There are bullies involved, and the principal hasn’t stepped in to help. This same principal whose family doesn’t like mine? That’s pretty damn convenient. Hell, ol’ principal Butch Brand probably wants my kid kicked out of school, out of spite. And this is the same Principal Brand whose brother you were dating? Who probably got you this job? Interesting.”
Sure, she knew what it looked like. Didn’t matter that her hiring had nothing to do with any family connections and everything to do with her obligation to repay her university loans to the school district. But at the end of the day, all that mattered were appearances, same as before. All her work, useless in the court of public opinion. If Garrison thought her job came from favoritism, other folks thought the same thing.
“Interesting? No,” she whispered. “Listen, I care about your son. And for your information, I got here on my own merit and hard work, damn it.”
No one, but no one, had worked harder to climb out of a past full of bad choices and zero family support to create a solid career than Sara had. Now this rancher with his anger issues tried to negate her efforts and accuse her of benefiting from preferential treatment? Not happening.
As she opened her mouth to rebut him again, his intense golden stare slammed into her like an invisible wall, stopping her in her tracks. All of her muscles locked up. She felt sucked into a whirlpool but couldn’t look away from the swirling gold flecks in his eyes. A roar, like rushing wind, engulfed her mind, and a stabbing pain made her blink back tears. Pressure built up beneath her skull, as if her brain swelled and ached.
What the heck? Maybe the stress of the day had given her a sudden migraine.
A brief spasm twisted Garrison’s expression into something like sadness and resignation. Pain creased his brow, and then his features hardened into cold, impassive stone again.
The throbbing in her head eased by half, and her shoulders clenched, like she couldn’t properly stand upright.
With the briefest motion, he nodded. “I know what you’ve said is true.”
As if she would lie about his son? Or her job? What the hell had happened to this guy that he didn’t even trust his kid’s second-grade teacher?
“Of course it’s true,” she snapped. Pressing her fingertips to her temples, she willed the headache to go away.
“I’m sorry.” He lifted his hand halfway to her, then dropped it back to his side.
Funny, it almost sounded like he apologized for her pain. She lifted her head and willed her shoulder and neck muscles to relax. Testing her legs, she made sure they worked before shifting her weight from one foot to another.
“MisterTaggart, my personal life has nothing to do with my professional life.”
“You’re right. Again, I apologize.” He brushed his hand over his forehead, almost mimicking her movements. “Now you understand why I feel the same way about you prying into my family’s business.”
