Sebastian
Spending the morning with Richard Johnson is a hell of a lot less enjoyable than feeling Rowan coming all over me. The man's voice grates on my fucking nerves. His haughty attitude pisses me off. And the way he stares down his nose at his teachers makes me want to grab him by the collar and shake him.
I don't give a shit if he is almost seventy. The man is an insufferable jackass.
Not even I can deny that Commodore runs like clockwork with him at the helm, though. We spend the morning going over everything from test results to instructional materials to maintenance issues in the school. The test results for the school are some of the highest in the county and the school is in excellent repair. Instructional materials are a little outdated since he's resistant to technology, but they're not bad enough to cause major concern.
What does concern me is the way every teacher we come across avoids him like he's got the plague and they're susceptible. The fact that he doesn't seem to notice their aversion also concerns me. He's a tyrant, exactly as I feared.
But I can't do a damn thing about it unless complaints are filed or he acts out. Being a dick isn't a fireable offense. We'd have the Union breathing down our necks if we tried it, and I do not want to piss off the Union my first year on the job here. I prefer to work with the Union, not against them.
"The gymnasium is our next stop," Johnson says, a certain smugness in his tone as I flip my notebook closed with an annoyed grumble. "We renovated it five years ago. I think you'll find it in impeccable repair."
"Actually, the gym is going to have to wait. I have something to do," I mutter, pulling out my phone to look at the time. It's almost time to meet Rowan. "We'll reconvene in your office at one."
"Lunch plans?" he asks.
"Meeting with some of the teachers," I say, arching a brow. "Trying to get a feel for their concerns and needs, address any irritants before they become issues."
His lips compress into a thin line, his expression turning sour. For someone who doesn't like Rowan's resistance to authority, he seems to be pretty damn resistant himself. This is his castle and I'm the interloper. At least that's what he thinks. Guess he didn't get the memo that I run the show now.
"I'm sure they'll have no complaints about the school or the leadership," I lie, pushing his buttons because he's testing what little patience I possess. "They're all very highly thought of by the board. I'm sure the feeling is mutual."
"Of course."
Dick.
"See you at one," I mutter and then head out, making my way out of the fifth-grade hall. Unlike the halls for the younger students, this one is neater, quieter. The artwork hanging on the walls is just as bright as that in the other halls though, and just as plentiful. It's obvious the teachers here care about the kids and take pride in their accomplishments.
I make it to the cafeteria as the bell rings, signaling the end of class for the first, second, and third graders and the return to class for the kindergartners. Hundreds of voices bounce off the walls as all the kids rush around. The teachers try to keep them quiet, but it's impossible to keep hundreds of little kids silent. I hold the door open, allowing the first two classes to go inside.
Their teachers murmur a quick thank you to me, distracted by the kids or their own thoughts. If they realize who I am, they don't react. The kids bounce up and down in line or skip, eager for the freedom lunch presents. Other classes pour into the cafeteria from the doors on the opposite side, filling the large room with sound.
As soon as I see Rowan leading her class down the hall toward me, my dick starts to react. I have to will him down. I can't will the smile off my face though. She's not much taller than her kids are, but she is all woman. Too goddamn beautiful to be real.
A pretty blush stains her cheeks when she notices me standing at the doors.
"Hey," she murmurs, ducking her head.
"Hey," I return, holding the door open for her class.
"If you brought your lunch, go to the table, please," Rowan calls out as the class starts jostling to get in the doors. "Everyone else, please stand in line and be on your best behavior."
"Yes, Miss Lassiter," half of the class says at once.
A little girl with pigtails, glasses, and missing front teeth stops in front of me and tilts her head way back to look up at me. "Who are you?"
"This is Dr. Thorne, Jamie," Rowan says to the little girl. "He's the superintendent."
"Cool," a little boy with a Power Rangers lunch pail, stopping beside her. "You're the big boss, like in the video games."
"I guess so," I say, chuckling. "Maybe less of a bad guy, though."
"My daddy says the big boss is always the bad guy," the little girl, Jamie, retorts, clearly not sold on me yet.
The little boy with her nods his agreement.
"Maybe just a little bad then," I whisper, putting my hand at my mouth like I'm telling them a secret. "But only when it's fun."
"Cool," the little boy whispers again.
"Jamie, Chris, go inside, please," Rowan says, shaking her head and smiling.
The kids do as instructed, tumbling through the door into the lunchroom, which is already in chaos. Half of the kids are running to get in line. The other half are shouting over the tables. Those in line are doing everything but standing up straight.
"I warned you," Rowan says, smirking at me so those dimples of hers pop out.
"Indeed you did." I hold the door open for her, grinning. It's cute she thinks I'm easily frightened off. It's going to take a hell of a lot more than two hundred little kids to send me running for the hills.
"Did you bring lunch or are you eating cafeteria fare?" she asks, looking up at me.
"Cafeteria." I hesitate, suddenly unsure. Maybe the food here is terrible. School food was awful when I was a kid. "Unless it's terrible."
She laughs at me. "It's not terrible. Promise."