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Read this first chapter of FOREVER FALL by Elizabeth Sinclair and answer the question in red below in the comments.
Who is the accountant for the Carson Board of Education?
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Who is the accountant for the Carson Board of Education?
The winner of the 3 autographed books is Kathy Bain. Congratulations, Kathy!
The answer to the question is Charles Henderson.
CHAPTER
1
“It’s simple,
Luc, if this woman gets her way, I’ll see to it that your contract as principal
of Carson High School isn’t renewed.”
Asa Watkins, the Superintendent of Carson High School’s Board of
Education, folded his hands over his thickening middle, crossed his legs and
assumed a self-satisfied demeanor.
For Lucas
Michaels, the high school principal, the posh offices of Carson Savings and
Loan seemed suddenly stifling. He
adjusted his position in the cushy, leather chair. Until this moment, Asa had
toyed with Luc, hinting at the consequences of not supporting him in his bid to
stop the introduction of baby simulators into the school’s family planning
classes. Now, the gloves were off, and there was no mistaking the
superintendent’s intent.
“And exactly
how do you plan on doing that? I believe
it takes the vote of the entire Board to dismiss my contract renewal.”
Asa smiled, his
expression reminding Luc of a cat that had just finished a big bowl of rich
cream. “I’m not without influence on the
Board. I hold a number of the mortgages
in this town.” The smile faded into an
expression of self-assured arrogance.
It sickened Luc
that Asa had no qualms about using his financial hold on the other Board
members to achieve his goal.
Asa waved his
hand in a gesture of dismissal. “They’re
all lemmings. They follow the leader
where ever he chooses to lead them.” The
look of arrogance intensified. “In this
instance, I am the leader, and I do not intend to take them in a direction that
will drain funds from the athletic department’s budget.”
“If your
influence is all that great, why not just cut to the chase and talk them out of
supporting it?” Luc struggled to keep
his absolute distaste for this arrogant, pompous jerk under wraps and not bound
across the desk to pop him in the mouth.
Asa’s dark
brows arched. His beady, gray-eyed gaze
bore into Luc. “I don’t have to tell you
that the people of Carson put great stock in our outstanding record of
obtaining athletic scholarships. Why,
half of them wouldn’t be able to send their kids to college at all without
them.” His expression grew hard. He leaned forward and glared at Luc over his
pristine oak desk. “I intend to run for
mayor in the upcoming election, and I don’t want my record blackened by wasting
money on something as asinine as buying dolls for teenagers to play house with. That said, neither do I want to go down in
Carson’s history as the man who condoned teenage pregnancy.”
Luc flashed him
a sardonic grin. “You’d rather it be me
who holds that distinction.”
In every
situation, his military father had told Luc, there is always someone who is
expendable. It seemed Luc had been assigned
that role. Still, the bad taste that had
flooded his mouth about the same time he’d received Asa’s summons returned and
intensified.
“If I agree to
do this . . . .” In an effort to keep
his true feelings hidden, Luc casually brushed a piece of lint off the cuff of
his navy suit jacket. “Exactly how would
you suggest I go about it?”
Asa’s smile
held an almost fiendish satisfaction.
“I’m sure that between now and the Board meeting next week, you’ll come
up with some solid arguments against Ms. James’ harebrained notion of spending
bundles of money on her robot dolls.”
It would seem
that if Luc wanted to keep his job, he didn’t have a choice in the matter. Though he hated himself and Asa Watkins for
the position in which he found himself, Luc had to consider the consequences of
not complying with Asa’s demands.
Luc treasured
the life he’d made for himself in Carson: the first stable home he’d ever
known, good friends, a job he loved.
Could he give all that up for the sake of a woman who wanted to introduce
some dolls into the curriculum? After
all, there were already effective forms of birth control and family planning
taught in the school. It wasn’t as if
he’d be leaving the kids with nothing.
Still, he hated buckling in to Asa.
However, left with little choice . . . .
Luc forced a
smile. “I’ll do my best.”
Asa’s hard
expression melted into a satisfied grin.
“I knew I could count on you, my boy.”
Of course
you did, you arrogant jerk. You backed
me into a corner and left me no escape route.
Asa stood,
signifying an end to their meeting. He
extended his hand. Luc stuck his in his
pocket. Asa let his hand drop back to
his side. “In three weeks, it will be my
distinct pleasure to recommend to the Board that they renew your contract,
pending the outcome of the Board meeting, of course.”
Luc should have
been relieved, but he wasn’t. He left
the bank and headed for his car. His
stride alone told anyone passing him that he was not happy. When people began to give him a wide berth,
he decided that, for the most part, his expression must have verified his state
of mind. He hated being backed into a
corner. It reminded him all too vividly
of the times his by-the-book Army general father had done just that to
him. Luc had wanted to lash out at Asa
and tell him he could put the principle job where the sun didn’t shine, but he
hadn’t. Instead, he’d buckled
under.
Why?
Instantly, a
vision of his house, his friends and his adopted hometown came into his
head. Even though he’d only been here
for three years, he loved Carson and the people who lived there. Having led a nomadic life as a child, when
Luc moved to Carson, for the first time in his life, he felt settled and had
made friends he wouldn’t have to leave behind in a few months. He’d held on to these things with a greed
only a man who had grown up following his military father and socialite mother
from Army base to Army base, leaving friends behind and acclimating to new
schools could. Giving up his position as principle would mean moving to a new
community and starting all over again.
He couldn’t do that for anyone.
He could not give up the only real home he’d ever known. Then again, as
his father had been fond of saying every time that young Luc had bristled about
moving to a new location . . . nothing is forever.
If this old
maid social worker had been doing her research, she would know that Carson
already taught abstinence in the family planning classes and, at great expense,
had installed condom vending machines in all the bathrooms. How could she expect them to spend yet more
money on these robo babies of hers?
By the time Luc
reached his car, he wasn’t any happier with Asa nor with the task he’d given
him, but he had made a modicum of peace with his own conscience about what he
had to do.
*
I’m dead meat!
Amantha James
forced herself not to squirm in the hard, straight-back, oak chair. She raised
her gaze to survey the cause of her unrest. Like five hungry vultures sitting
on a fence, the Carson School Board studied her from behind the long library
table. All but one, the only woman on the board, looked as if they’d already
made up their minds, and their decision didn’t look promising for her.
Keep your cool.
Don’t start jumping to conclusions. You
haven’t even presented your case yet.
Besides, this isn’t the first time you’ve come up against a wall of
opposition, nor will it be the last.
Easier said than
done, however, considering that, with every loud tick of the school clock
behind her, their concentrated gazes shot tiny arrows of doubt into her
confidence, deflating it at an alarming rate.
She gathered her
courage around her and sat a little taller. She’d be darned if she was going to
let five people, who would obviously rather be somewhere else, deter her. Very
few causes in her life had carried the importance of this one, and she would
see it through to the end. All she had to do was hold on a little while longer.
“So, Bill, I
didn’t see you in the stands at the game Saturday. Last game of the season. Too
bad you missed it.” Asa Watkins, president of the Carson Savings and Loan and
Superintendent of Schools, addressed the man Mandy had already identified as
Bill Keeler, owner of the local supermarket.
From the tone of
his voice, Mandy decided that Asa’s statement held more of a reprimand than a
casual interest in the other man’s weekend activities.
Bill shook his head
and studied his hands. “Mildred and the girls wanted me to take them to the
mall down in Prescott.”
Asa raised a brow.
“Mildred drives, doesn’t she? Why couldn’t she go herself?”
The man still kept
his face averted from his questioner. “She doesn’t take to driving in heavy
traffic. Always has me go along to take the wheel.”
“Well,” Asa said,
leaning back in his chair and crossing his hands over his ample middle, “you
missed a great game. That Jeb Tanner’s some ballplayer.”
The man to Asa’s
other side, the youngest member of the board, leaned into the conversation.
Becky Hart, Mandy’s superior at the social services office, had told her the
young one would be Charles Henderson, the
board’s accountant.
“His dad told me
that he’s about certain Jeb will get the athletic scholarship to UCLA.”
Henderson smiled. “Boy’s got some throwing arm on him.”
All three men
laughed. The skinny man not quite as exuberantly as the rest, almost as if it
was expected of him.
Mandy sighed to
herself. Becky had been right. This town had sports tattooed on their
brain cells, and Asa Watkins ruled this group with an iron fist. She was going
to have to talk herself blue to get past using money from their over-endowed
athletic department to fund her project.
“Jeb’s an ace
quarterback, no doubt about that and a sure thing for a football scholarship
from one of the big schools. I told his father last spring that Jeb’s lateral
pass would be the key.” Asa smiled at his companions, his chest expanding to
indicate his part in this potential victory. “When that UCLA scout came to the
first game, I just knew from the look on the guy’s face that Jeb will have it
in the bag. Before the scout left, he indicated he’d be back at the end of the
year.”
“How many
scholarships does that make now?” The speaker this time was a man with a
clerical collar and a ruddy face, Reverend Thomas, the minister of the local
church.
Asa closed his
eyes in thought. When they popped open, he grinned like a cat with a fat mouse
in his sights. “Five in all. With Jeb’s scholarship added to the total, it’ll
make it six. I may have to get a bigger
trophy case for my office.” He laughed,
and then transferred his attention to Mandy. His speaking gaze sent a silent
message. Don’t mess with me, lady.
Mandy met it head
on with her own silent challenge. You don’t scare me.
She looked away.
Glancing around the old schoolhouse’s library, she wondered when the one absent
member of their solemn gathering, the school’s principal, would show up. She glanced to the open window which admitted
a late fall breeze perfumed with the sweet odor of burning leaves, and
overriding that unique smell of chalk, paper, books and rubber-soled sneakers
that hovered in the air in every school. Forcing calm to her jangled nerves,
she inhaled deeply and peered at her watch. Eight-thirty. Half an hour late. How much longer would he
make them wait?
Appearing composed
and confident got harder with each passing moment. Her back hurt from sitting
so straight, the hard chair seat had stolen the feeling from her backside
almost twenty minutes ago, and her good mood, along with her patience, was
dwindling rapidly. Her stomach rumbled in protest of the supper she’d missed to
get here on time. She tugged the sleeve of her red plaid suit jacket over the
watch face and tried not to show her agitation.
“Mr. Michaels will
be here shortly, Ms. James. You must understand that this meeting made it
necessary for him to rearrange his evening to accommodate us.” The explanation
came from Asa Watkins.
Watkins, a single,
forty-ish man, who had been keeping a close eye on the height of Mandy’s skirt
hem, had caught her agitated movements. As unobtrusively as possible, she
pulled her skirt lower over her knees and smiled.
“I
understand.” What she wanted to say and
didn’t dare was that, having known about the meeting for weeks, she found the
principal’s tardiness rude and inconsiderate. But why shoot herself in the foot
before she’d had the opportunity to present her case?
To keep her mind
off her growing irritation with the absent Lucas Michaels, she scanned the five
people at the long library table. She tried to guess their voting preference,
but a cool, feminine voice interrupted her before she could start.
“While we wait,
why don’t you fill us in on your proposal, my dear?” Catherine Daniels, the
only female member and the town matriarch, drew Mandy’s attention. The older
woman smiled graciously from beneath a navy, feather-encrusted hat, no doubt
custom-designed for her in some exclusive New York City milliners.
She returned
Catherine’s smile. “If it’s all right with the Board, I’d rather wait until Mr.
Michaels is here, so I don’t have to cover everything again?”
Just then the door
at the rear of the school’s small library opened on squeaky hinges. She turned
to see a very tall man in a gray business suit, white shirt and a conservative,
burgundy tie enter the room, briefcase in hand, his forehead creased in a
frown. As he walked slowly to the front of the room, his spit-polished wing-tips
clicked rhythmically across the oiled hardwood floor.
Mandy’s breath
left her lungs in a painful whoosh. Oddly enough, she seemed unable to
replenish it. For the first time that night, gratitude for the hard,
uncomfortable chair seeped into her. Without it, she wasn’t at all sure her
legs would have held her body weight.
With his dark,
good looks, the principal of Carson High School could have just stepped off the
cover of Hunk of the Month. Mandy had seen him around town and had to
admit that, like most of the single women and the high school girls, Lucas
Michaels demanded closer female scrutiny.
And if she wanted to be totally honest, she’d taken her share of glances
at the handsome principal and maybe even fantasized about him a bit. However, she had no plans to become another
notch on his bedpost or, for that matter, any other man’s.
“Ah, Luc, finally.
Now, we can get started.” Asa’s greeting interrupted her musings. She noted that his tone held a hint of
rebuke, which seemed to roll off Lucas Michaels like rain off a greased
windowpane.
Mandy gave herself
a severe mental shake. Ogling the principal wouldn’t sell the board on her idea
to cut down the alarming rate of teenage pregnancy in their small town. If the
determined set of Lucas Michaels’ expression meant anything, convincing him
wouldn’t be an easy task. But, if it meant saving one teen from experiencing
the life Mandy had lived as the illegitimate daughter of an embittered, single,
alcoholic mother, she’d face the devil himself.
She issued a
silent affirmation to his stiff profile and to her own psyche. I am not a
loser, Mr. Michaels.
Being ordered to
do anything went against Luc’s grain. The visit he’d made to Asa’s office days
before still had the power to rankle him. Making no apologies for his tardy
arrival, he took a seat in the unoccupied chair facing the board table. Putting
his briefcase on his lap, he clicked it open, extracted a fat, manila file
folder, closed the lid, and then placed the leather case beside him on the
floor.
He deliberately
avoided looking to his left at the woman who had urged Asa to call this
meeting, a device Luc often used on a student to unsettle them enough to get to
the bottom of a matter.
Luc crossed his
legs, and folded his hands on the file, then smiled at the board members. “Good
evening.”
“Good evening,
Luc. Thank you for coming.” Asa fumbled through some papers, never really
meeting him eye to eye.
Was he feeling a
bit guilty about what he had planned for this evening? Luc laughed inwardly. He couldn’t envision Asa feeling one ounce of
guilt for anything he’d ever done in his life.
Asa pounded the
table with his gavel and all conversation in the room ceased instantly. “Now
that we’re all here, shall we get started?”
Luc made no reply.
No sense pretending courtesy had anything to do with his appearance here
tonight. He’d made Asa fully aware that he hated what they were doing. The
other board members nodded in Luc’s direction.
He could hear the
woman stirring in her chair.
He smiled
inwardly.
Lack of composure
would cause her to make a slipshod presentation, giving the board good reason
to turn her down. With any luck, he might not have to play the heavy in this.
Being cast in the role of the bad guy was not new ground to Luc. Many times
before Asa had used him as his pivotal point and relied on him to not only side
with him, but also to turn the tide in their favor. This was, however, the
first time his job depended on it and the first time his conscience really
bothered him.
He hated the control
Asa was able to exert over him, but looked at it as a part of the job, even if,
in his own mind, he knew it to be out and out blackmail. There was a pecking
order in all occupations and unless you occupied the top seat, you learned to
take orders without question. His father had ingrained that in him early on in
his childhood.
Asa Watkins
interrupted Luc’s thoughts. “Ms. James, I don’t believe you’ve met Lucas
Michaels, our principal.”
“Mr. Michaels.”
Though somewhat stiff, her voice held a very pleasing quality, the kind a man
could listen to for hours and not tire of.
Continuing with
his calculated plan to unnerve her, while keeping his gaze fixed on Asa, Luc
merely nodded in the direction of the feminine voice.
“If you’re ready,
Ms. James, you can get us started by filling us in on your proposal.” Asa
smiled toward the source of an enticing perfume emanating in Luc’s direction.
Flowery, soft. Not overpowering. Subtly suggestive.
Calculated,
he added with a brisk shake to his imagination. If she thought she could make
points with her feminine wiles, then she was sadly mistaken. He’d seen his
mother do this many times when trying to get his father to cave on some issue.
“Thank you, Mr.
Watkins.” The raspy quality of her voice raked over Luc’s nerve endings,
bringing tiny pin-pricks of pleasure to his senses.
A bedroom
voice.
“As you all know,
I’m the new social worker assigned to the Carson office. I’ve been here for
three months, and in that time I’ve come across some alarming statistics about
the rising number of teenage pregnancies, mostly concerning unwed, high school
students. In the information I will give you tonight, I’ve noted the precise
percentage and relevant data that will speak for itself.”
Reverend Thomas
emitted a loud hiss of air. Mandy couldn’t ascertain if it indicated his
agreement with her statement or his displeasure with the reality of the facts.
“I have done some
research into preventatives and, if you’ll allow me, I’ll pass out some
information I have gathered for a possible answer.”
Asa nodded his
permission.
From his
peripheral vision, Luc had a shadowy image of the woman standing, carrying a
pile of papers, and walking to the table, where she passed out several sheets
to each board member. Then she turned to Luc, papers in her outstretched hand.
He looked up into
the face of one of the most gorgeous women he had ever seen. His breath
snagged. So this was Amantha James. So
much for the old-maid-social-worker image.
Instantly, he
recalled having seen her several times at the school. He’d had no idea why she was there and just
assumed she had a sibling or a child enrolled and had come to see them for some
reason. What he did recall is the
astounding effect she’d had on his libido.
It had taken days to erase her image from his mind.
“Mr. Michaels?”
Dragging his
attention from her mesmerizing, coffee brown eyes and deeply implanted dimples,
he accepted the papers. “Thank you.”
Was that squeaky
voice his? He cleared his throat and gazed at the paper clutched in his hand.
The words blurred. Feeling as if he’d been kicked by a horse, he drew in a
labored breath.
After blinking several times, he
was finally able to make out the words at the top of the page, Baby
Simulators.
“Robo babies,” he
mumbled under his breath.
“Mr. Michaels,
until I’ve explained, please don’t make any snap judgments.” Her voice betrayed
a hint of impatience.
Keeping his gaze
trained on the paper, he shrugged. “Be my guest.”
This was
ridiculous. Was he going to let some ego-driven social worker rattle him? He’d
never felt so completely off track in his life, at least not since his last
bout with his father. Luc made it a point to keep his footing in any and all
situations. Not doing so meant stepping into uncharted territory, and Luc never
ventured into anything of which he wasn’t fully aware. He mustn’t forget that
it was his plan to rattle her. He sat straighter, marshaling his forces
for his attack.
“The baby
simulator is a device to aid in family planning for teens. As you can see from
the pictures in the flyers I just gave you, it resembles a real baby in every
way, appearance, weight and temperament, as well as being anatomically
correct.”
“Do you mean to
say these . . . robo babies have . .
. . Well, that they. . . .” Having been
raised around a prissy mother who just didn’t talk about such things in
mixed company, he couldn’t force the words to emerge. Luc glanced up to see several of the board
members hiding a smile behind their hands.
Luc felt like a complete fool, an adolescent too embarrassed to discuss
sex in clinical terms.
“Yes, Mr.
Michaels. As I said, they are
anatomically correct,” the James woman said, a smile playing around her
luscious mouth. He quickly averted his gaze. “The manufacturer made certain
that the simulators would resemble real babies in every way. And I can
safely say that I doubt if these characteristics will not come as a shock to
any of the teens who will participate in this project.” The hint of laughter in
her voice told him she obviously found his discomfort with the subject amusing.
“If it is
approved,” Luc added pointedly.
“If it is
approved.” A small concession on her
part. She smiled at the board.
“Thank you,” he
said, stiffly.
“I don’t
understand how these simulators are going to prevent pregnancies.” Catherine
Daniels, studied the paper in her hand, and then glanced at Mandy. “Wouldn’t
this be akin to letting the students play with dolls?”
“No. It’s much
more complicated than that. I might add here that we must think of them as
babies and not dolls to get the potential caregivers to think of them in those
terms as well.
“Now, if you look
closely at the picture on page four of the information, you’ll see that each
baby is equipped with a care monitor implanted in its back. This allows the
teacher or project supervisor to monitor the type and frequency of care given
the baby.” Mandy waited for the board to review the information.
“But why couldn’t
we just continue to use the sack of flour or an egg? It’d be a whole lot
cheaper, and I’m sure Bill would appreciate the business.” Reverend Thomas
smiled, and then leaned his arms on the unopened folder resting on the table in
front of him.
Laughter bubbled
up around the table, and then died.
“The simulator has
some distinctly human-like qualities that the egg and the flour sack don’t. The
baby is programmed to cry at unpredictable intervals, twenty-four hours a day,
just as a real baby will. Its disposition can also be adjusted from mild to
very cranky. The head must be supported, and the baby cannot be allowed to cry
too long, fall or be treated roughly. If any of these events occur, then that
registers on the care monitor and the caregiver earns demerits.” Mandy resumed
her seat and waited for more questions.
“As amazing as
this technology is, I don’t understand how these robo babies are going
to cut the number of teenage pregnancies, Ms. James?” Mandy tried hard to
overlook the hint of suppressed amusement coloring Lucas Michaels’ voice.
Taking a deep
breath and ignoring the muffled agreement from the board, Mandy faced the
principal. She set her expression to reflect the serious nature of her subject,
rather than her irritation with him. “Each baby comes with a key to be inserted
and held in a slot in the back of the simulator, then anywhere from one to
thirty minutes will elapse before the baby stops crying. This is to show the
caregiver that food or diaper changes are not always the reason a baby cries.”
“I still don’t see
how this can be a deterrent. The caregiver can simply leave the key with a
parent and go about their normal social life.” Luc knew firsthand about how
easy it was to hand off responsibility and care for a child to someone else,
even a robot child.
She addressed her
explanation to the entire board. “Not in this case, which is part of the beauty
of this simulator. The key is attached to the caregiver’s wrist permanently for
the duration of the project, much like a hospital bracelet is attached. He or she is the only one who
can minister to the baby.
Therefore, if the caregiver leaves the house for whatever reason, the baby must
go along. If he or she doesn’t take the baby and it cries in her absence, the
baby will cry until the battery runs down and the caregiver will get demerits
for neglect.” She turned toward Luc.
“Think of yourself
as a teenager with a social life, Mr. Michaels. Taking this baby with you
everywhere can be a real drag. Studies have shown that after caring for this
baby for as little as a week, many teens have decided to wait to become parents
and some have even opted out of parenthood altogether.”
A grunt and a nod
of agreement came from Bill Keeler. The board stared at Mandy in rapt
attention. Catherine Daniels concentrated on the information sheets.
Seemingly
encouraged by their silence, Mandy went on. “The inconvenience of caring for
the baby and the restrictions it puts on the social lives of the teen parent
can be very effective arguments for not having children. Rather than having an
adult preach to them about the responsibilities that go along with being a
parent, they’ll actually live with it every day for a prescribed period of
time. Of course, classroom re-enforcement will be given also, but the hands-on
experience will validate what they learn in the classroom, bringing it home as
no amount of preaching could.”
Luc realized that
this woman had obviously done her homework. Tripping her up was not going to be
easy, if they could at all. Her arguments held well-thought-out logic. How
could he argue with logic? New respect for Ms. James surged through him. This was not some empty-headed twit that Asa
could snowball.
He had to find a
crack in her argument that would allow the board to vote this suggestion into
the ground. And he knew just where to look for that flaw.
“Let’s look at the
bottom line here, Ms. James. What will it cost the school to get this program
started?” Luc leaned back in his chair.
Out of the corner
of his eye, he noted that Charles Henderson, ever the accountant, had readied
his pencil to write down the figures he expected to be forthcoming from Mandy.
If the board had
to take money from their precious, inflated athletic department budget to
finance this scheme of Ms. James’, there would be no baby simulators coming
into Carson High. And having access to the budget and its allotment, Luc knew
Asa had been right in that respect anyway. He could see no other venue from
which to get the money. He glanced at Mandy and waited for her bottom line.
“To be effective,
the program should start out fully equipped to provide at least half of the
students in the class with a simulator to care for during the first phase of
the project. The simulators would then
go to the other half of the class for the second phase.” She took a deep
breath. Her next bit of information would either make or break the entire
project. “Please look at the amount I’m about to quote as an investment in your
youth and in the future of this community.” She named the price per baby.
With a sinking
heart, she watched their collected faces register everything from shock to
absolute rejection—everyone except Catherine Daniels. Was she going for the
idea or did money mean so little to her?
Charles
Henderson’s accountant’s mind clicked in. “And exactly where would you suggest
we access the funds to buy these . . . baby simulators?”
This was the one
stumbling block in her plan. She had no idea if the school had money for
unbudgeted purchases, but she was aware that they had a huge athletic
budget. However, Becky Hart had advised
her strongly to allow the board to find their funds without any prompting from
her.
Mandy shook her
head. “I’m sure you can answer that better than I can. Since I’m not privy to
the school’s operating budget . . . .”
Asa Watkins, who
had been ominously quiet until now, looked pointedly at Luc. “Perhaps we should
get some input on this point from Luc.”
Luc stared at Asa
for a long time, hearing the words the superintendent had said as Luc had left
Asa’s office the week before.
It’s simple,
Luc, if this woman gets her way, I’ll see to it that you’re contract as
principal isn’t renewed.
Luc had gotten the
message loud and clear. If this proposal went through, the only logical place
to get the funding was to cut back the athletic department’s lion’s share of
the school budget. Support anything that would jeopardize the athletic
scholarships, and he’d be history in Carson.
Though it grated
against his better judgment, Luc was not about to give up the life he had so
painstakingly established and start all over.
He straightened in
his chair and looked directly at Asa. “Well, the athletic budget has already
been strained by adding a new chemistry teacher to the faculty. I really don’t
think—”
Becky had warned
her, but Mandy still couldn’t believe her ears. “The athletic budget?” Mandy
fought to control her anger. “When did sports become more important than the
welfare of your children?”
Lucas Michaels
glared at her. “That’s not the case at all. If you’ll allow me to finish, Ms.
James.” Mandy leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest, her
expression clearly exposing her efforts to control her temper. “The welfare of
our children is, of course, uppermost in our minds. However, the athletic
scholarships that our students earn are immeasurably helpful in getting them into
colleges that would otherwise be financially out of the question for them. It
occurs to me that we are already doing a sufficient amount of preventative
teaching by supplying condoms and teaching abstinence—”
“Abstinence?” That
was the last straw. Mandy jumped to her feet and faced him. “Abstinence, Mr.
Michaels? You want to preach abstinence to a bunch of teenagers with raging
hormones? Hormones they’ve just discovered and are chomping at the bit to
experiment with?”
“Aren’t you being
just a bit over-reactive?”
Mandy couldn’t
believe this. They might as well put a bottle of whiskey in front of a
confirmed alcoholic and say don’t touch. If it wasn’t so sad, she’d have
laughed out loud at the absurdity of his statement. What was wrong with him?
Didn’t he care about these kids?
As far as
abstinence went, who was Michaels kidding? What could a man with his good looks
and obvious charm know about abstinence? He probably had women coming and going
from his bed with all the regularity of planes at Charleston’s Yeager Airport.
That the board
would put sports before the welfare of a child enraged her. The collective lack
of logic and caring for their own children displayed by the board and the
school principal severed her already strained composure, along with any attempt
at caution.
“And, of course,
you know all about abstinence, right, Mr. Michaels?” Sarcasm dripped from
Mandy’s words.
A collective gasp
rose from the board table.
Asa smiled.
Instantly, Mandy
knew she’d overstepped her bounds and may have made a fatal mistake in
attacking Luc, but her frustration level had imprudently pushed the words from
her lips before she’d been able to stop them.
Slowly, Luc
uncrossed his legs, then targeted her with a dark, censoring glare. “As a
matter of fact, Ms. James, I grew up in all-boys military schools, which left
little opportunity for anything but abstinence.” His gaze grew colder. “So, to
answer your question, yes, I do know about abstinence.”
“I’m very sorry.
That remark was beyond rude, Mr. Michaels. I can only blame it on my passion
for the subject.”
Luc raised an
eyebrow, and then nodded. “Passion, huh?” The corner of his mouth quirked up in
a suggestive half smile, then immediately relaxed into a firmly set expression
of censure.
Passion? She
didn’t like the way he’d said that or that smile.
Before Mandy could
say anything, Catherine Daniels intervened. “Please, let’s leave personalities
out of this.” She glanced at her fellow board members and favored them with a
smile. “If the board will allow me, I have a suggestion that might settle this
whole matter.”
The members looked
at each other and then back to her. Collectively, they shrugged, then nodded in
agreement to let her voice her plan.
“I think we should
give the babies . . . a test drive.” She looked at Mandy. “Do you have one of
these simulators available?”
A glow of hope
rose in Mandy. Had she found a sympathetic ear in Catherine? “I don’t have one
with me, but I know we can borrow one from the company. They assured me that
because of the huge investment, testing the system is quite common.”
Catherine smiled.
“Good.” She leaned back in her chair and extracted a white handkerchief from
her purse. Carefully, she used the handkerchief to brush a spot of dirt from
the lapel of her pristine navy suit.
“Can we get on
with it, Catherine?” Bill Keeler obviously had grown impatient with the entire
process. Mandy had to agree with him. “I promised Mildred I’d be home by ten.”
“Patience, Bill,
patience. I want to get everything straight in my mind before I present it.
This young woman’s suggestion has merit, and I think we need to give it more
than cursory consideration. As for you hurrying home, I’m sure you’d rather be
anywhere but 47 Elm Street, so don’t use that as an excuse to get to Hannigan’s
Bar for your nightcap.”
Bill sat back in
his chair, his cheeks glowing bright red.
Mandy hid a smile
and grasped at the thread of hope Catherine had thrown her. Maybe she hadn’t
ruined everything with her outburst.
Asa looked around
at his fellow board members. “Let’s give Catherine a chance to explain what she
has in mind.” His tone held reluctant resignation rather than enthusiasm.
“We seemed to have
two distinctly different viewpoints here, neither of which any of us are
equipped to make judgments on. My suggestion is that the baby simulator be put
to the test in a real family setting. Once that’s completed, we can use the
findings to make an informed decision.”
Reverend John
Thomas leaned forward to address Catherine. “And exactly who would you suggest
do this testing, Catherine? All the board members, having already experienced
the dubious joys of parenthood, would know what to expect. Thus making us the
guinea pigs would prove nothing. And I’d like to go on record as saying that
until the board makes a decision, I strongly object to bringing anyone in from
the outside.”
“Exactly, John.”
Catherine smiled sweetly, and then turned back to Mandy and Luc. “That’s why we
need a couple who can keep this discreetly confidential and who have no parenting
experience. The obvious choices for the test are Ms. James and Mr. Michaels.”
*****
BIO
Elizabeth is a member of Romance Writers of America, The Author's Guild and Thriller Writers. She's taught creative writing and given seminars and workshops, locally and nationally, on the craft of writing. Her Books have finaled in the Daphne de Maurier contest and won The National Readers' Choice Award, The Anne Bonney Readers' Choice Award, Romantic Times Reviewer's Choice Award, the Heart of Excellence Readers' Choice Award and earned a Gold Medal Top Pick from the Romantic Times Book Club.
Elizabeth co-founded and is a member of the Ancient City Romance Authors of St. Augustine, FL. She is also a member of RWA's Kiss of Death Chapter, Sisters In Crime, and the Indiana Romance Writers. Elizabeth Served as RWA's Region 3 Director and chaired the 2001RWA New Orleans Annual Conference.
In addition to having authored the widely-acclaimed instructional books, THE DREADED SYNOPSIS and FIRST CHAPTERS, she has published a total of eighteen romances with Silhouette Intimate Moments/Romantic Suspense, Harlequin American, Kensington Precious Gems, Medallion Press and recently signed a contract with Bell Bridge Books for the next three books in her Hawks Mountain series. The first two books in that series, HAWKS MOUTAIN and SUMMER ROSE are available in print and e-book format on Amazon, B&N and other e-books sites. HAWKS MOUNTAIN is also available in audio format. The Hawks Mountain series continues with the fourth book, WINTER MAGIC, coming soon.
Visit Elizabeth at www.elizabethsinclair.com
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