“She’s not the right one for you.” He slammed his hand on the table.
“Relax, Sloan. Just pulling your chain.” Mitch munched on a chip. “Seems to me you’re interested in her yourself.”
Sloan started to speak, but Mitch held up his hand, stopping him. “Look, I don’t care what your interests are in her, just as long as you do something about it.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean you need to stop moping around and snapping at everyone. Felicia was a bitch. I knew it from the start. Consider yourself lucky that you didn’t get married. Can you imagine what kind of hell that would have been?”
“I don’t mope,” Sloan groused.
Mitch shook his head. “Whatever. Look, for the first time in months, you’re different. I wouldn’t exactly call it happy. At least you’re not so damn moody. It started when that new woman showed up. To me, that’s a good thing.”
Sloan ran his hand through his hair. “She’s made it clear that she’s not interested in a relationship.”
“Did you kiss her?”
Sloan nodded. That had been the hottest kiss he’d ever had.
“Did she slap you?”
“No.”
“So a beautiful woman makes it clear she doesn’t want a relationship, but didn’t slap you when you kissed her? Sounds like she just wants something with no-strings attached. Basically, you have hit the jackpot.”
Sloan shifted in his seat, not really knowing if he liked that scenario.
Mitch got to his feet and slapped him on the back. “Now, what you need to do is get your ass over to her house and show her just how welcoming you can be. You’ll be surprised how much more interested a woman is in a relationship, after giving her a couple of orgasms.”
***
“Mr. Heffner will see you now.” The young secretary smiled, opened the door with PRINCIPAL etched into the glass, and waved Grace through.
Grace had been told it would be half an hour before the principal could see her. She debated leaving. In the end, giving this job a shot won out and she waited. She’d spent those minutes trying to think positive thoughts while flipping through old magazines filled with recipes and parental advice.
“Miss Witherspoon, I’m Principal Heffner.” The short fat man behind the large desk stood long enough to be considered polite before plopping back down in his leather chair. “I was told you wanted to meet with me about the dance instructor position?”
She wasn’t getting a friendly vibe so she decided to give him her best smile and try to kill him with kindness.
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I appreciate it.”
Ignoring any pleasantries, he shuffled some papers on his desk and glanced at his computer screen. “Did you fill out an application?”
“Yes, I did, but . . .” She held out the paper and he snatched it out of her hand.
His gaze roamed down the application. His thin lips turned down into a frown. “This is not filled out properly. There is a lot of missing information.” He tapped the paper as he spoke. “Here, you didn’t put down your social security number.”
She swallowed. “My social security card was destroyed in a fire and I never had time to get a new one. I see where it says you need to have a copy, so you see, I don’t have that.”
He smirked. “I’m sure you’ve been busy. You must know in order to be considered for a position here at our school you’ll have to provide the necessary information.”
“I understand.” She gritted out between her teeth. Forget killing him with kindness, she just wanted to kill him.
“What about personal references?”
“Well, I only went to school for dance, so I really don’t have anyone to vouch for my dancing skills.”
He sighed and gave her a pitying smile. “Mrs. Witherspoon, I’m afraid I can’t help you. We are looking for a qualified instructor with experience.”
Grace swallowed and glanced at the trophies on the shelf to the right. “I see your school has done quite well in football.”
His face lit up and he puffed out his fat chest. “Yes, it has. We’ve been state champs for three years in a row.”
“What about the dance team? Has it ever made it to regionals?”
His smile faded. “No. That’s not our strong area. Football is.”
She licked her dry lips. “I bet with the right teacher it could be another strong area. Another trophy never hurts.”
“Miss Witherspoon…” He stood and walked around his desk to open his door. “I’m afraid until you get the proper paperwork, the answer for the position is no.”
Her face heated as she walked out into the waiting area. Two women stopped talking and watched her with unveiled curiosity.
“Thank you for your time.” She clutched her purse to her chest as she strode out the front door. Once outside, she sucked in a deep breath and hurried for her car, seeking refuge.
This whole thing was a mistake. She never should have come.