Lanie
Trailing my finger down the page, I found the girl’s stats. Raven Marx. Seventeen. A senior at South Seattle. Had some disruptions the previous year, including skipping classes and talking back to teachers. The last few weeks, though, things had gone further south. She’d taken to cussing in class and threatening other students with harm.
Moving past Raven’s file, I read the few other ones in the folder. Just judging from the family information on the other pages, I got a sense of why the kids were likely having troubles. One boy’s father was in prison, and another’s parents were going through divorce.
There was more information on all the kids, but I left the detailed reading for another time and moseyed my way down the hall. There were coworkers to meet.
Too soon, the teacher’s lounge was in front of me. With sweaty palms, I opened the door and went in. Two women not much older than me stood talking in the little kitchen area, and a man with salt-and-pepper hair hunched over a big folder in a chair by the window.
The man didn’t so much as look up, but the women glanced my way, and I realized one of them was Robin from the office.
“She’s just hopeless,” the other woman was saying. “Raven’s never going to change because she doesn’t have to.”
My ears practically twitched. A tidbit on a student! With my social anxiety dissipating, I made my way over to them.
“Robin, right?” I offered my hand to the other woman. “I’m Lanie Jacobs, the new counselor.”
“Destiny Rodriquez.” She shook my hand and smiled at me. “I teach music.”
“I couldn’t help but overhear. Were you talking about Raven Marx?”
“Ugh.” Robin made a face. “The one and only.”
“I just glanced at her file. I saw she’s been having some trouble recently.”
Destiny sighed. “Trouble would be a light way of putting it.” She took a swig of whatever was in her mug. “I need to get ready for second period. Nice meeting you, Lanie.”
I gave her a little wave and turned back to Robin. “Raven is sent to the office a lot?”
“Yep,” she tartly replied, turning around to fill her ceramic mug with coffee from the nearby pot. “She’s pretty close to getting expelled, most likely.”
“Hm.” I frowned. “Do you have any idea why she’s acting out? I didn’t see anything in her file about—”
Robin swallowed a hot sip and shook her head. “You’re not going to find anything special in there. The girl is a spoiled brat. Plain and simple.”
My stomach twisted at the unfair term. Calling a person a brat was an easy way of glossing over an issue. No one acts out for no reason. Even if a kid is used to always getting what they want, they still deserve help. Spoiling creates bigger issues that affect a person for the rest of their lives.
“Thank you.” I smiled politely, feeling it was time to retreat. “I should get back to work. See you around.”
Halfway back to my office, my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. Stealing a look around to make sure the hall was empty, I pulled the phone out and accepted Erica’s call.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“How is the first day?” Erica squealed.
Reaching my door, I slipped into the safety of the office where I could talk in peace. Taking a personal call at school would probably not bode well for my success there.
“Good.” I slipped into my seat. “Already have a few kids on my radar.”
“Is that good or bad?”
I chuckled. “We’ll see. I was just in the teacher lounge, and one of the women in the office told me about this girl, Raven Marx. Called her a brat. God, I hate that word.”
“Raven Marx?”
“Uh-huh.”
“That name sounds familiar.”
“From where?” I laughed again as I powered up the computer. Time to see if the last counselor left any useful tidbits of information on the desktop. “Since when do you hang out with high school kids?”
“No,” she said seriously. “I have heard it from somewhere. Marx. Where’ve I heard that name?” In Erica’s background, people chattered and phones rang. Her office was always buzzing with activity. I’d visited it a few times, and my head had nearly exploded from the energy. Kindergarten was one thing, but the advertising branch of an accounting firm was another. As the baller head of the department, though, Erica took the craziness all in stride.
“The only Marx I’ve heard of is Andrew Marx,” she said. “You know who he is?”
“Uh-uh.” I scrolled through the documents on the computer, finding some pictures from a school play the year before and lots of files regarding the district’s behavior policies.
“Is that a no?” She went on, not waiting for an answer. “Andrew Marx is the CEO of Marx Investments. It’s the top investment firm in the US. Has been for years.”
“Oh. Cool.”
I couldn’t have cared less.
“But I doubt that’s his daughter at your school. He probably sends his kid to private schools.”
“Yeah. Could be a distant relative,” I mumbled, still perusing the computer’s files.
“Okay. I gotta go. Text me later.”
“Kay. Bye.”
We hung up, and I concluded there was nothing that useful on the computer. Nibbling on my lip, I pulled Raven’s picture out again. Something about it just wouldn’t leave me alone.
It was that intense gaze. That had to be it. Raven Marx looked like a fighter, the kind of girl who would only act up if she had a good reason. Really, that needed rephrasing. She seemed like the kind of girl who would only act up if she had a bad reason—if something was really wrong in her life.
I needed to find that reason out.
Andrew Dead silence filled the boardroom. I let the door fall closed behind me as I stood there, finding all eyes where they were supposed to be. On me. “Well?” I barked. Kyle cleared his throat, and the four other employees sitting around the table all looked anxiously at him. “Mr. Marx, it appears there is an issue with an account. Houghton Graham. There is, uh, twenty thousand dollars missing from the account.” He pressed his lips together hard, probably waiting for me to yell. “Then find it,” I simply answered. “No need to call a meeting. You.” I pointed at Carolyn. “Go through the statements from the last few months.” “I already—” “Do it again. And you.” I nodded at Kyle. “Make sure this doesn’t get out. Don’t notify the client until we know exactly what’s going on. The rest of you, make yourselves busy. And if you lose one more damn check, you’re all fired.” With a string of curses checked but rumbling in my throat, I turned around and left the boardroom, Maggie trailing
Lanie The piercing scream shook my bones, making me jump in my seat and drop the scholarship papers I’d been looking over. Heart thudding, I left the papers on the floor and rushed to the door. Someone fainted? Or brought a weapon to school? A dozen awful possibilities ran through my head. Cracking the door the slightest bit, I looked down the hall. Near the front office, a girl with long, blond hair stood with clenched fists. “It’s not fair!” she yelled. “Miss Marx,” a female voice said from inside the office. “Have a seat. Now.” So that was the infamous Raven Marx. My second day at school and she already had a run-in. Not surprising in the least. “Why?” Raven shrieked. “I didn’t do anything. Nothing that the bitch didn’t deserve.” I cringed at the harsh words. Everyone up and down the hall had to hear Raven. The other voice said something I couldn’t make out, and Raven stood there for a few more moments, her chest heaving up and down. I took the time to inspect her closely.
Andrew I curled my fingers around the golf club, the new gloves Maggie had ordered just for this occasion clinging snugly to the grip. Sinking into my stance, I pulled back, set my eye on the ball, and swung with precision. The club’s head hit the ball with a satisfying smack, sending it flying through the air and onto the grass, about five feet away from the hole. A booming laugh echoed across the green. “Well done for a man who says he’s rusty.” I grinned at Paul Nordmeyer, polo shirt stretched tight across a bulging belly and neck red from the sun. “Guess I’m a natural.” “Beginner’s luck,” he good-naturedly mumbled through his caterpillar mustache. “You’ve been away for so long, you might as well be starting over. How long did you say it’s been?” I shrugged. “About a year. Used to play all the time, though.”“All the time” was an exaggeration, but what Paul didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. I stepped to the side, watching as Paul took his turn. The course was close to empty, with
Andrew Inside the country club was a little busier than outside. People chatted quietly over small tables, and the shiny, wooden bar only had one customer—an older woman drinking what looked like tea. “A whiskey,” I told the vested bartender as I took a seat. “Neat.” He set the tumbler down in front of me, and I took a long sip that burned my nose and throat. It didn’t help any. My problems were still there. What was I going to do if the meeting with the counselor led nowhere? Take Raven to see a specialist outside of school? What if that didn’t work? She never talked about school, but that had to be the problem. Home was fine, somewhat. Nothing went on there. Come to think of it, maybe that was the issue. It had been years since Raven had a friend over. That wasn’t normal. When I was her age, I was practically glued to my friends. If South Seattle wasn’t working out, I could take her out of it. Her senior year had only just started. She could get in at another school. Not priva
Lanie I took a deep breath and stared in the mirror, turning one way and then the other. Was the black eyeliner too much? Yes. Too loud. I was going to work at a high school, not to a nightclub. Grabbing a makeup wipe, I went to rub it off, then remembered it was liquid and would smear all over the place. “Shit,” I murmured, dropping the wipe in the bathroom trash. Heart racing, I adjusted the little strands of hair around my ears and frowned. The look would just have to do. At least I was dressed somewhat conservatively in a button-up and wool sweater. Checking the time, I grabbed my purse and keys from the hook by the front door and locked my ground-floor apartment behind me. There was still plenty of time to get to work, but with my nerves making me shake, I knew I’d be more comfortable once I got into my office. This was the day. In less than an hour, I had my first parent-teacher conference. Hopefully, I’d make it through the meeting without vomiting. I’d had plenty of pa
Lanie “Y-yes,” I sputtered. “Come right in. Mr. Marx, I assume?” “That’s right.” “Have a seat.” He walked over to the chairs opposite my desk, tight shoulders and sculpted rear-end moving with controlled precision. Realizing I was staring, I quickly took my own seat. If I’d hoped meeting Mr. Marx face-to-face would help ease my anxiety, I was sorely wrong. The man sitting across from me was perfection, in possession of the kind of face that could give any professional male model a run for their money. Now, not only was I worried about how well I would perform during the meeting, I was once again worrying about how I looked. Was my makeup still holding up? How was my hair doing? I resisted the urge to touch it and see. Remember the steps. One at a time. Placing my palms on the desk, I smiled. “Thank you for coming to meet with me. I know you’re well aware of Raven’s recent, um, acts.” I checked a cringe. This wasn’t the speech I’d prepared at all. Mr. Marx’s face darkened, an
Andrew Those curves. Not the ones of her hips or breasts. I’d hardly gotten a look at the school counselor’s figure, but she seemed pretty thin beneath the sweater and jeans. No, it was the curves of her lips. They were the perfect Cupid’s bow, slanting down in a delicious, inviting way. Who got to kiss those lips at night? Without warning, jealousy seared through me. Damn the man I’d never even met. Or woman. Maybe Miss Jacobs was gay. How the hell could I know? But at least she wasn’t married. I’d already clocked the bare wedding band finger. Damn, though, the things those lips could do. I could tell just from looking that she was a great kisser. More than that, probably. It was always the reserved, prim women who were the most passionate in bed. “Mr. Marx, who lives at the home?” I rubbed the back of my neck, unable to shake the annoyance. Did we have to talk? I would have been fine with staring at the woman all day. She was that breathtaking. “The two of us.” Karen, thou
Lanie“I knew the second I saw you that you were the one for me,” Andrew Marx breathed, his hot exhale kissing my cheek.I closed my eyes, absorbing his scent, anticipating his taste on my tongue. His lips grazed against mine ever so softly, his tongue darting out to nudge my mouth open.“Ow!” I shrieked, dropping the knife onto the cutting board. Bright red blood spilled from the cut on the side of my finger.“Here.” Erica took my hand and inspected it. “It’s just a little nick. Press this against it, and I’ll get a Band-Aid.”I leaned against the counter and wrapped the paper towel around my finger as she rooted through her first aid kit.“What had you distracted?” she asked.My face grew hot. “Nothing.”Luckily, she didn’t look up at me. “Here we go.”I tossed the paper towel and carefully wrapped the Band-Aid around my finger.“Maybe I should take care of cutting the veggies,” Erica said.“Knock yourself out. I’ll take care of drinking the wine.” Plopping down at the table, I dug