Read Marco (The Men of Indecent Exposure #1) Online
Authors: Raven St. Pierre
And I was here to shut that down.
The only difference between him and Brynn was that she didn’t have any way to hide what she’d done. As her stomach grew, she’d be on display for friends and family to see and there’s no hiding it. I’d bet money Turner had a few things on record that would tarnish his reputation if they were outed. Thinking about it all, I felt myself getting angry.
I reached for one of the frames and picked it up, staring at the faces of strangers behind the glass.
“Beautiful family.”
Turner sat back in his seat and laced his fingers across his stomach. There was such pride in his voice when he responded, “Thank you. That’s my wife of twelve years, Caroline; my son, Jensen, is eight, and little Molly just turned six last month.”
I gave a nod, imagining the tidy little life he and Caroline had built for themselves. “I uh… I bet you’re very protective of them,” I added distractedly. My eyes stayed trained on his wife and children. “That right?”
Turner’s seat made a sound as he straightened his posture, meeting my gaze when I set the picture back where I found it. “I am,” he answered.
I nodded again. His response was what I expected and it helped me make my next point. “Then it should be pretty easy for you to understand why I’m here today.”
His brow creased and his head tilted to the side. “I don’t uh… I don’t follow.”
I let out a long breath and said one thing, one name: “Brynn Palmer.”
Turner stared for a moment and then held my gaze as he slowly folded his arms across his chest. “What about her?”
“You let a good teacher go because of something that had absolutely nothing to do with her job. I just came here hoping you could help me understand the thought process behind making a decision like that.” When I finished speaking, I sat back and waited for an answer. I really was curious to know how he, and whoever had a hand in firing Brynn, justified what they’d done.
A smirk from Turner set me on edge, but I kept my cool. My mom used to always tell me that the louder you are, the harder you are to hear. It would take everything in me not to cuss this dude out, especially if he didn’t wipe that grin off his face, but I definitely came here to be heard. For that reason, I was taking my mother’s advice.
“Mr. Rios is it?” he asked, seeking clarity.
I nodded once.
Turner cleared his throat and sat a little straighter. “Is it safe to assume that you’re responsible for
Ms. Palmer’s dilemma?”
Calmly, maybe a little too calmly, I answered his question the best way I knew how.
“There’s no dilemma. Brynn and I are two grown individuals having a child together. A dilemma is what you and I are gonna have in a minute if you don’t watch your damn mouth.” My pulse was steady and I didn’t look away. There wouldn’t be a problem unless he created one.
He put up his hands. “Mr. Rios, calm down, please.”
“Oh, this is me calm,” I assured him, never raising my voice. As long as he didn’t get out of line, we were good.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he went on. “I’m simply trying to make sure I understand your position in all this. I mean… you’re clearly emotionally invested in Brynn. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come in here today.”
I sat quietly and waited to see where he was going next.
When he spoke again, he changed his tone—snatched the bass right out his voice. “Listen… I know it may be hard for some to understand how things operate within St. Ann’s, and
most
parochial schools for that matter, but we have standards in place that don’t exist within the public school system. Because we’re privately funded, we’re able to exercise certain rights federally financed facilities don’t have the liberty of doing.” He breathed deep and continued explaining. “Honestly, those standards are the precise reason parents entrust us with their children. We believe that adults should lead by example and, pardon me for saying so, but conceiving children out of wedlock is not something we tolerate here from our staff. Imagine the message it would send to our children.”
“Oh, you mean like how it’s wrong to pass judgment on others? A message like that?” I asked.
Turner sighed, obviously frustrated that I wasn’t readily buying into his theory.
“The board and I never passed judgment on Ms. Palmer. She signed a contract when she was hired in and we have to insist that
all
members of our staff adhere to those terms, from the greatest to the least,” he explained. “Now, I want you to know that I’ve had nothing but good experiences with Ms. Palmer over the years. Parents
and
students love her, but… again, we have a standard to uphold at St. Ann’s and it applies to us all. Myself included.”
I scooted toward the edge of my seat, closing the distance between Turner and I when I felt myself getting worked up. “So, let me ask you something: do you go around firing teachers for cheating on their spouses? For not paying parking tickets? For doctoring figures on their taxes?”
“Don’t be silly, Mr. Rios,” Turner scoffed. “There’s no way of knowing the intricate details of all our teachers’ lives. I’m simply saying, based on the morality clause—”
“See… there you go hiding behind that damn morality clause again,” I cut in, aiming my finger at the man. “Does it include
all
moral missteps or only the ones with visible evidence? The ones you’re worried might make your school look bad because you can’t sweep them under the rug?”
He let out another deep breath.
“You see where I’m going with this, Turner? I’m willing to bet that ninety-five percent of your staff here isn’t doing everything right. Hell, make it one-hundred just to be sure we don’t leave anybody out. So, if we’re being truthful and admit that no-damn-body is perfect based on St. Ann’s standards, how is it that you, or anyone else for that matter, have the right to put someone out of a job simply because she can’t hide what she’s done as well as the rest of you?”
There was nothing he could say, so of course I went on because I had a whole lot more to get off my chest.
“And I know you think your little contract makes you untouchable, but I beg to differ. I keep a lawyer on retainer and I assure you I went with the most savage one I could find—no holds barred; dude’s like a pit bull off his leash. So, depending on where you and I end up after this little meeting, that’ll determine whether I give him a call or not. And believe me, the law may be on your side because you forced these teachers to sign away one of their rights, but losing in court isn’t the only way this could go bad for St. Ann’s. I’ll just let you marinate on the court costs, the negative press a situation like this would bring down on you, and the media frenzy you’d have outside on the manicured lawn of your lovely school when you arrive every morning.” I smiled at him. “Imagine how your students’ parents will feel about
that
.”
Turner loosened his necktie and cleared his throat. “Well… I—”
I didn’t say a word, just sat there listening to him scramble for a response. When a defense didn’t come to mind, he glared at me. “Since you seem to have all the answers, Mr. Rios, where do you propose we go from here? And for the record, reinstating Ms. Palmer is simply out of the question. It’s not even an option. I can’t go against my constituents and act outside the contract. If I did,
my
job would be on the line.”
I thought about what he said. With the way things had gone down, I was pretty sure Brynn wouldn’t
consider
working here again anyway. The shame of how she was dismissed would be a deterrent for sure. However, I was sure Turner could work something else out.
“You’ve been in your position for a while, I’m assuming.”
He shrugged. “For a few years.”
“And I’m sure you have some connections; people in high places who have some pull?”
His entire face turned bright red, but he kept his tone even when he answered. “I know a few people, but—”
“I don’t need excuses,” I interjected. “What I need is for you to put in a good word for Brynn so she has a job to return to when it’s all said and done.”
There was a loaded pause between us and I had my response ready for when he rejected my demands; however, I didn’t end up needing it.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he answered.
“No, what you
meant
to say is
‘I’m
gonna make this happen’
,” I countered. “I have faith in you,” I added with a smile.
A breath of frustration was released. “I’ll need some time to call in a few favors.”
“Get back to me in a month,” I replied, making clear the window of time he had to call. I stood from the chair and pulled out my wallet. Taking one of my business cards to the shop from the back slot, I placed it on Turner’s desk and repeated, “One month.”
He eyed my info printed on the card and then nodded.
I closed the door to his office behind me and immediately sent a text to my lawyer so he’d be on standby just in case. Turner could take me for a joke if he wanted to, but I was ready and meant every word I said in there. I didn’t play when it came to my family. He’d find Brynn a job so she wouldn’t have to stress about it and then we’d be square.
My only concern was making sure things worked out for her.
Brynn
Submit.
I stared at the screen after pressing the button, reading over the confirmation message that popped up. I was still on the hunt for a job, but so far, no luck.
A dull pain spread across my forehead, but that had sort of become the norm these days; the slightly swollen ankles, too. The doctor said to expect this, but most days taking the baby aspirin seemed to help. At least it knocked the edge off the headaches. Still, Dr. Rubino was monitoring my blood pressure closely to make sure further action didn’t need to be taken. So far I was in the clear because my numbers were elevated, but not in the range that alarmed her.
“I don’t know why you won’t just let him help you,” came Mona’s voice in my ear. I filled her in on all that had taken place over the last week, even about Marco finding out I lost my job at Sunday dinner and she wasn’t shy about sharing her thoughts. Especially, now that she was privy to my health situation, she and Ced had been on my case even more than before. Was the job hunt starting to wear on me? Yes, but only because I knew my chances only worsened as time went on. Still, I had to believe it would come together.
“Either that or come on out here with Ced and I. We keep telling you we’d love to have you,” she added.
I definitely felt welcome there, but I had a long time to think it over. The realization hit me as to why I was so hesitant to agree. It wasn’t that I was just so attached to Houston; it was Marco. I couldn’t justify leaving and denying him his rights as a father, not when he stepped up like he had. It was very clear that his intentions were to be active and who was I to take that away from him?
“Again, thanks for the invitation, but I’m going to have to respectfully decline,” I replied, shutting my laptop before lying back on the mattress.
“Well, at least let us send you some money. Things can’t be easy on you right now,” she added.
I thought about it and, thanks to my mother teaching me how to be financially savvy, I was doing okay. Granted, I had to cut back on a few things and tap into my savings, but as far as I was concerned, that’s what it was there for—a rainy day. At least my retirement funds were still intact. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t feeling the weight of being unemployed, but I wasn’t destitute.
I was determined to do this on my own, without anyone’s assistance. The only thing I did agree to let Marco help me with was my health insurance. He was right; I couldn’t take any chances with that. He came over a little more than a week ago, the day after I told him everything, and we went over a few different plan options. Of course, he insisted on a much more expensive one than I deemed necessary, but in the end, he won.
Marco.
I thought his name and a smile appeared. This happened often since the kiss. It was only that once and, no, things between us weren’t incredibly different, but… I thought about it often. I
liked
that things hadn’t changed. He didn’t all of a sudden think we were together and neither did I. That made this all so much more natural, our
‘whatever happens, happens’
outlook.
Against my better judgment, I’d even told Mona
that
part when sharing with her how things went at his parents’ house. She was surprised, especially seeing as how I hadn’t mentioned to her that my feelings were changing leading up to the incident. Either way, she wasn’t judging, but did tell me to be careful—about getting too attached, about confusing my feelings because I’m with child—which was very close to what Naseem said, but in a far less accusatory way. I assured her I was thinking as clearly as ever and she dropped it.
A tone in my ear pulled me from my thoughts. “Hold on a sec. I have a beep.” I glanced at my screen and read Naseem’s name.
Speak of the Devil.
We hadn’t spoken in weeks—actually, it’d been a little more than a month now. The line beeped again and I contemplated, remembering how our last conversation had gone. With a sigh, I decided to answer.
“Hey, I’ll hit you back. I need to get this.”
“Okay, but don’t forget me. We still need to discuss our plans for my birthday,” Mona said just before letting me go, reminding me of her upcoming visit. I assured her I’d call as soon as I could and the next voice I heard on the line was Naseem’s.
He responded to my dry, “Hello?” with an equally unsure, “Hey.”
I turned over on my side, wondering what was up, wondering how this would go seeing as how we ended on such a sour note last time. He hadn’t tried to call or text in a week, not since he blew my phone up the day I went to meet Marco’s family, so I had no idea what frame of mind he was in.
“Did I wake you?” he asked.
“No, I was actually—” I stopped there just before sharing too much. Naseem didn’t know I lost my job and I wanted to keep it that way. There were already enough people in my business and I was trying to keep the number to a minimum. Although Naseem and I weren’t on the best of terms right now, I knew that wouldn’t have stopped him from trying to spring into action like Marco and Mona had done. Already, too many were trying to come to my aid, so I changed the rest of my response. Instead of disclosing that I’d just finished submitting my resume, I kept my answer vague.
“I was actually just lying here trying to shake a headache,” I replied, which wasn’t a lie; it just wasn’t the whole truth.
“Hm... Well, seeing as how I haven’t heard back from you, I’m assuming you’ve been busy.”
There was a snide undertone to the comment that wasn’t lost on me. Busy didn’t even describe how my life had been. It seemed like I was constantly online looking for work or doing light work around the house as I tried to get things organized to make room for the baby and her things. Surprisingly, I was busier
without
a job than I was when I had one. Then there’s the fatigue and the headaches and the dizziness, which all slowed me down even more. This little girl was draining me.
“Yeah, you could say that,” was my answer. “How’ve you been?”
“Fine, I suppose.” His response was extremely passive aggressive and I picked up on it right away. After that, silence.
I took a deep breath at the realization that hit me. We were really in this place—with this animosity gnawing at the edges of our relationship. You couldn’t have
paid
me to believe Naseem and I could’ve ended up here. That’s how tight we were once upon a time. But now we just couldn’t seem to exist in one another’s lives lately without there being some sort of issue. Now, he was upset, I was upset, and neither of us thought we were in the wrong.
“Listen, Naseem—”
“I think we should talk.”
We both spoke at the same time, but I decided to let him go first. It sounded like he had an angle, although I had yet to figure out what it was.
“Go ahead,” I offered.
“Our last talk has just been weighing on me,” he started, leaving me to wonder if he felt remorseful for insulting me. “I keep going over it in my mind and I can’t figure out why it ended the way it did, which is why I tried to text last week. I wanted us to deal with it then, but I got the impression you had better things to do.”
I sat there, letting his words sink in before I spoke. If he didn’t understand why it ended badly, then he still didn’t see where he’d been wrong.
“Naseem, I don’t think you even realize how you came at me that day,” I said back. “I guess I should’ve known you were asking all those questions about Marco for a reason, but I hadn’t realized it was to build a case against him. Silly me, thought you were just looking out for me.”
“Brynn, are you—” He paused midsentence and I knew he was trying to calm himself. “That
is
all I’m trying to do. You got so defensive over one question.”
“It was more than that, Naseem. You were trying to back me into a corner; trying to force me to let you into a part of my life that I shouldn’t have to explain to you or anyone else. Whatever happens between me and Marco is between us.”
When I finished speaking, Naseem held the phone in silence at first, but then he repeated one word from my statement: “
Us
. That’s interesting.”
Feeling exasperated, I closed my eyes and let out a breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” he countered. “You tell
me
. I’m not the one who said it.”
He was reading so much more into this than I was putting out there. Granted, yes, I was starting to see potential in Marco that I didn’t see before, but in no way did my statement allude to any of that. This was simply Naseem making something out of nothing.
“You know what? I can’t talk to you when you’re being like this. Maybe we need more time,” I suggested.
“Can’t talk to me when I’m being like what?” he shot back, sounding frustrated.
“Petty!” I answered. “You’re being petty, Naseem, and I don’t even know if you see what you’re doing, but I do.”
“Oh, really,” he scoffed. “And what is it that I’m doing exactly?”
When did he start acting so damn childish?
It felt like the room was spinning and I probably should’ve dropped the conversation, but I couldn’t. He was being so pigheaded I had to get my point across.
“You’re jealous,” I blurted. “And I think I’ve been more than sensitive to your feelings, but this is all you. You’re letting your feelings, your emotions, get in the way and you’re ruining any chance we could have at a normal, functioning friendship.”
He let out a short laugh, a cynical one. “You’ve just got all the answers, I see.”
“No,” I corrected, “but I know you well enough to recognize the
‘words of caution’
you gave last time weren’t for me. They weren’t to protect me,” I clarified. “That was about you.”
He fell silent again.
I was breathing heavily and working so hard not to yell, but I was full. I’d been holding this in for a while now and it was all spilling out. I loved Naseem in the purest way imaginable. He was one of my best friends, but I’d done more than tread lightly over his feelings.
“You’re having a hard time accepting Marco’s role in my life and I get that, but he’s not going anywhere,” I stated, hoping Naseem would understand that. “And I also understand that me being pregnant wasn’t easy to digest either, but… this isn’t the result of me being Marco’s fool,” I clarified, remembering how that statement had been Naseem’s most hurtful. “He didn’t take advantage of me that night, or any other night.
We
did this,” I said firmly. “And I won’t let you or anyone else make me feel ashamed.”
When I finished, I was practically panting. That was it. That was all I had to say.
Several seconds of silence passed between us and I used them to reflect on our conversation thus far. It wasn’t going well, but it wasn’t going poorly either. I supposed the best thing coming out of it was that Naseem and I were both finally being heard.
“I apologize,” he breathed. “I can admit that I took things too far.”
“Thank you,” I answered.
“I never intended to hurt you, Brynn. That was never what I wanted,” he added, and I believed him. “But… I won’t take back everything I said. Some parts of it were true and needed to be heard. No matter how hard it is for you to swallow.”
Why was he being so persistent? Was it not clear that I didn’t care to hear his opinion on this subject? The pressure in my head began to build and I knew it was my pressure climbing. Deep breaths helped sometimes, but not today. Right now, with Naseem on the other end of the line, thinking he was right about every-damn-thing, breathing techniques did nothing to calm me.
“Are you seeing him?” he asked boldly.
That was the last straw. I was done answering his questions, done having this conversation with him. If I didn’t put an end to it, I’d end up making myself sick and
no one
was worth that.
When I didn’t say anything, Naseem took my silence as a guilty admission and he chuckled into the phone and it was a dark sound—one filled with hurt and anger.
“I knew you’d end up falling for him,” he finally confessed. “It was only a matter of time before he’d get inside your head.” Naseem paused and then threw another blow. “I’ll bet you even believe he feels something for you, too. Am I right?”