Page 58 of Very Bad Things

He winks at me, standing back up. “Daisy, let’s head home, sweetheart. Tell Miss Flowers goodbye.”

She jumps up from where she’s been sitting, running across the room to where her dad is standing with her backpack. “Bye, Miss Flowers! I’ll miss you!” I can’t help but feel a tug at my heart at how entangled I’ve become with this little girl. Her smile stretches from ear to ear as she waves at me enthusiastically.

“Bye, Daisy, see you tomorrow. I’ll miss you too.”

“Oh, one more thing,” he says, halfway out the door. “You can keep the shirt, as long as I get to take it off of you… again.” Warmth travels up my neck, remembering the way he took the last one off me on his yacht.

I turn my attention back to my desk, organizing a few things before I head home, a cheesy grin plastered across my face.

“It’s Daphne, right?” I lift my head, surprised to see Natalie walking through my door.

“Yes, it is and you’re Natalie.” I return her warm smile. “What can I do for you?”

“Well…” She hikes one hip up and sits on the edge of my desk, her cream shift dress rising up her thin, tanned leg. “First, I just want to say that I’ve heard wonderful things about you as the newest teacher here at Crestwood; truly, you have a glowing reputation here.”

“Thank you, I really love it here.” I’m being sincere but I’m not naïve. This feels like there’s a big fat ‘but’ coming next.

“That being said, I wanted to talk to you… you know, woman to woman. Sisterhood and all that.”

And here it is.

“I know firsthand”—she emphasizes the word by tapping my desk with her long acrylic nails—“just how fun and exciting and downright satisfying riding the Weston Vaughn roller coaster can be, but I want you to understand that it’s not a very long ride. Before you even realize it, he’ll be on to a newer, younger, prettier attraction and you’ll be left standing on the platform.” She gives me an Oscar worthy performance of sincerity, but I know it’s not coming from a good place.

“Um, sorry. I think I got a little lost in the stretching of the analogy there—” I scrunch my face up in confusion.

“Oh,” she gasps and touches her chest. “Let me guess, he didn’t tell you that we were a thing, did he?” She pooches out her bottom lip and I feel my stomach roll.

I think back to that nagging feeling I had when his parents brought her up in the Bahamas. The way he seemed to quickly deflect and shut it down. I had a feeling and I chose to ignore it.

“What I’m saying, sweetie, is that as his late wife’s best friend, of all people I should have known better. I heard all the red flags from Mira and I still fell into his bed after she died. It’s embarrassing truly, to have to admit that I slept with my late best friend’s husband. Anyway, I would have been sick to my stomach had I not warned you. I do hope you understand this is coming from a good place.” She reaches her hand out and grabs mine, squeezing it before sliding off my desk and sashaying out of my room with a small toss of her hand in the air.

There has to be a misunderstanding here. Before I go into a full-blown panic, I take a few deep breaths and grab my things to head over to Weston’s and ask him to his face about this. I shut and lock my classroom door, taking the back stairs so that I don’t risk running into Natalie again. I slip out the back of the school, a sleek black Range Rover catching my gaze. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice about a luxury vehicle outside the school considering the type of school it is but rarely are they ever parked in the alley behind the school.

“Preston?” I say to myself as I squint to make sure it’s him. I watch as he leans into the driver’s window, the same long acrylic fingernails that were just tapping on my desk, wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling him in further. “What the hell?” I take the opportunity to run down the alley before they catch me watching them.

I’m not sure if Weston will be at home since he picked up Daisy or if he went back to the office, but I take a chance and head to his penthouse.

“Afternoon, miss. May I help you?”

“Hey, I’m here to see Weston Vaughn.”

“And is he expecting you?”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to go up. Just hoping you can let him know I’m in the lobby? My name is Daphne Flowers.” I realize I could call him myself and I may have to if the man behind the desk won’t alert him that I’m here, but I know that if I call, he’ll convince me to come upstairs.

He glances at his computer, typing something in. “Are you sure you don’t want me to just send you up? You’re on his approved access list.”

“I am? I—uh, no, no, thank you. I’ll just wait down here for him.”

“Okay.” He picks up the phone. “Hello, sir, there’s a Daphne Flowers down in the lobby to see you. Yes, yes, sir, I tried sending her up but she doesn’t want to go up; she’s asking that you come meet her down here. Yes, sir, okay, sir. Thank you.” He looks up at me after hanging up. “He’s on his way down.”

I can see a look of confusion on his face when he exits the elevator. He makes his way over to where I’m nervously perched on the edge of a bench in the lobby.

“Daphne.” He smiles as he approaches. “What are you doing? Why don’t you want to come up?”

“Is there some place we can speak privately?” I try to keep my voice hushed so my words don’t echo through the massive marble lobby.

“Yes, upstairs.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Come on.” He helps me stand and ushers me toward the elevator but I stop.

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