Page 87 of Reckless Desire

“Listen, I probably shouldn’t say anything, but he’s been asking about you a lot. Not just me, other teachers as well.”

“What do you mean? In what way?” I’ve put the Dan issue to one side. He seemed sufficiently mortified by the incident at my place, and I didn’t think he would still pursue a chance with me.

“Like he’s trying to find out if you… I don’t know, I might be making things up, but like he’s building a case to challenge your performance.”

Her words reach me in a disconnected way. I understand every single one of them, but my mind refuses to comprehend the meaning. Could Dan bide his time to take revenge and cost me my job because he feels jilted?

“You think he’s trying to get me fired?” Even as I say the words, they sound foreign to me. He wouldn’t, would he? But then, I wouldn’t have expected him to assault me either. Shit.

“Look, Syd, I don’t know, but his questions are not a normal check-in. I mean, has he ever asked you what you think about my class?”

I shake my head. “But I only teach reading in your class.”

“And I only teach music in yours, but he’s asked me twice already if I think your class is performing to the school’s academic standards. He masked it with ‘It’s her first class here, I want to make sure,’ but it didn’t sit well with me.”

I don’t know her well enough to trust telling her about my former relationship with him, so I let the information stew and thank her for telling me.

“Of course, Syd. I wouldn’t want him to go behind my back to gather info about my work. The second time he approached me, he was even asking about specific kids. So odd. If he cares about students’ results, that’s what we have the conference for. Or he should ask you.” She shakes her head. “Anyway, I miss our old boss.” She stands up and heads to the door.

“Any particular student that interests him?” I ask, my heart hammering in my ribcage.

“He asked me about Janey Clement and Caroline Stuart. That’s your boyfriend’s girl, isn’t she?”

My heart pulses in my temple. It might be nothing. Janey has behavioral issues and Caro has learning problems, so his interest is warranted to a certain extent, but why wouldn’t he ask me?

“Thank you for telling me, Lara.”

She leaves and I sit down to grade the students’ work, but I can’t concentrate. I consider running to Dan’s office and confronting him. I fight the idea for a moment. I pick up the phone and almost dial Hunter, but I don’t want him to come over all caveman-style. The last thing we need is another altercation between the two of them. I should have reported Dan after he came to my place. Shit.

I pack up my purse. I think about calling London for advice, but as I walk down the corridor, something stops me. I should find out what the hell is going on. Turning, I take the steps two at a time, anger fueling my determination.

“Hi, Sydney,” Melissa greets me as I barge into the administration office. “How can I help you?”

“I need to speak with Dan.” I glance between his door and her desk, tension coursing through me.

“He’s left already. He had a meeting with the chair of the board. Do you want me to schedule you for tomorrow?”

“No, that’s okay.” Oddly deflated, I leave.

Maybe Lara is exaggerating. Dan could be asking around about all the teachers and students who require extra help. He might not be going about it the right way, but it’s his job after all.

I check the time on my phone. There’s no point commuting back to Brooklyn only to turn around for our skating adventure. I open my purse to protect the phone from the light snowfall outside and see the envelope. Shit, I almost forgot about my monthly deadline.

With a sigh, I start the dreaded walk of gloom, as Icheerfullycall it, and take the subway to Elliot McFadden’s offices. There is nothing good about borrowing money from a loan shark, but it would be nicer if I could make online payments.

But McFadden’s business doesn’t uphold human decency, let alone the law, so all transactions are cash only. No paperwork. No trail.

His offices look almost like a normal office, but reek of despair and hopelessness. And maybe blood, because my overactive imagination has painted brutal beatings happening behind the back door.

A bodyguard gives me a menacing once-over and the receptionist asks me to wait, so I take a seat. Two people cross the hallway, laughing. It really feels like a normal place of business. Only the ethics and tactics might not be normal.

The receptionist straightens up, looking like a deer in the headlights, as the entrance opens and the room gets dim with the arrival of the boss and his minions.

“Mrs. Lowe, I’m surprised to see you here.” Elliot McFadden offers me his hand.

I frown. I despise the man with all my heart, but it’s not like I can share that sentiment, so I just nod and remain silent.

“Do you need money again?” A sly smile lights up his red face, raising the hair on my nape.

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