Teach Me a Lesson (25 page)

Despite being a Saturday morning, the gym was close to empty. Charlotte had received a two-week trial membership—with Lola as her guest for the day—but she’d already wasted a week. The place, though, was kind of cheesy, the machines not as clean as she’d like and the odor of sweat hanging like a pall over the big room. In addition, the lone man also in attendance had chosen a treadmill only two machines away instead of on the other side of the room. Somewhere in his early thirties, he had quite an impressive set of pectorals, and his calves weren’t bad either, muscles rippling as he ran. Usually, that would be enough to make her slightly wet. Yet the only thing getting wet was her face, perspiration dotting her upper lip and forehead from her workout on the stationary bike. He looked . . . too young. He didn’t stand out in a room the way Lance did. Good God, the damn principal was even affecting how she looked at other men.

Though the guy appeared to be watching CNN, the TV wasn’t loud enough to actually discern what the newscaster was saying. Charlotte wondered if their voices carried.

Whatever. She didn’t bother to tone down. He could eavesdrop all he wanted. “It’s not about whether I liked what he did. It’s that I asked him to leave and he didn’t. And when I insisted, he threw me on the bed and tied me up.”

“God, that’s sexy,” Lola said.

Charlotte made a disgusted sound in her throat. It had been sexy the first time he’d done it last night. Okay, if she was honest, it was sexy the second time, too. But it still pissed her off.

“He did it even though I’d specifically told him that spending the night together was not part of our deal. He manipulated me.”

Lola wiped the perspiration off her forehead with a towel. “Did you hate it?”

“No. And you know that’s not the point.”

Lola shrugged. “I know it. But do you know what the real point is?”

“Of course. He’s trying to control me. In and out of the bedroom.”

“No. The point is that you can’t separate the sex games from the workplace.”

“That is absolutely not true.” But she felt a twinge. Because a similar thought had occurred to her that day in Lance’s office, just before the Wrights arrived.

“I have never heard you complain about the way
Principal
Hutton”—Lola stressed the title—“dealt with some issue at school.”

“That’s because I didn’t have anything to do with him. I’ve always gone through Alice.”

“Yeah, but he still brought down edicts from on high. Like the time that kid was caught in a lie on his admission application. You just wanted to send in a corrected form, but the principal said there had to be consequences for that kind of action, and the school couldn’t simply brush it under the rug.”

Oh. Yeah. “See, he was a hard-ass even then. That mistake has followed Chris through the rest of his academic career.”

Lola gave her a long look. “It wasn’t a mistake. He lied. And as I recall, you admitted that the principal was right. You wanted to assist the kid, but you agreed that covering up his lies wasn’t helping him grow into a better human being.”

The falsified applications had been withdrawn, and Chris didn’t get into the university of his choice. But he was accepted into a southern California college that wasn’t as expensive and hadn’t bankrupted his parents the way the other school would have.

Damn. She should never discuss this kind of stuff with Lola. Because it got thrown back in her face. Lance had made the right call. Charlotte had been too soft.

“But the situation with Eric and Melody isn’t the same.” Sweat trickled down between her breasts. When was this ride supposed to be over?

“The principal is the one stuck in the middle between you and the school board. When a parent denies you access to a student, don’t you have to abide by that? I mean, doesn’t he have a point, even a little one?”

Lola was way too reasonable.

“It’s the way he’s ordering me around that I don’t like.” Charlotte was sounding childish again.

“Remember when you told me not to throw away this thing with Gray just because I was afraid of a relationship?”

Great. A change of subject. She wasn’t the one in the hot seat anymore. “And wasn’t I right about that?”

“Totally. But maybe you’re throwing away a good thing because you’re afraid of giving up even a tiny bit of control.”

Damn. It wasn’t a new topic.

“If you’re worried about your job at the high school, isn’t it actually a good thing that he’s on your side?”

Charlotte narrowed her eyes, giving Lola a squinty glare. “Who’s the psychologist here?”

Lola laughed. “You are. But you always say you can’t analyze yourself.”

“And you always say I overanalyze.”

“Which is exactly what you’re doing. Don’t dump him yet. Wait till later. Maybe he’s not as controlling as you think.”

Charlotte glanced at the guy on the treadmill. He was watching the TV now, their conversation obviously boring him since they’d stopped discussing sex.

“All right, fine. The principal gets one more chance,” she told Lola. Though she might have to be less available. She wouldn’t go to his house whenever he demanded it, or let him drag her to places like the Park and Ride and Lookout Point. She glanced at her program on the cycle’s screen. They were on the downhill side of their ride. “Now let’s turn the spotlight on you and the coach. When are you moving in?”

Lola groaned. “I don’t know. We’re still talking.” She shrugged. “But we are taking Rafe up to Tahoe for Thanksgiving to do some skiing.”

Charlotte gasped, truly surprised. “You mean the ex-wife from hell is going to let Gray have his son for the holiday?”

“They made a bargain. She gets Rafe for Christmas and Gray gets him for Thanksgiving. We’re taking Wednesday off to drive up.” Wednesday was the last day of school before the holiday and not much of anything happened. Lance always let classes out at noon.

“Wow. Family time,” Charlotte said. “How does that feel?”

“Kinda scary. I’ve never spent this much time with Rafe.” She rolled her eyes. “There’ll probably be some kind of blowout.”

“Don’t start thinking that way. So”—Charlotte shot Lola a beady-eyed stare—“are you staying in Gray’s room? Or do you get your own, and he and Rafe will share?”

“We sleep together at the house. Gray doesn’t hide it. So we’re not going to do anything differently up there. I stay with Gray, Rafe gets his own room. But I am
not
having a communicating door.”

“Thank God.” There were some limits. “This is a huge step in acceptance, you know.”

“I’ll tell you about acceptance when we get back. Rafe and I are holding our own so far, but five days might be stretching it.”

“Be positive. And call me if you feel like you’re ready to implode. I’ll talk you down.”

With Lola gone, she wouldn’t have anyone to talk
her
down. She hadn’t even thought about the holiday in terms of the principal. Did that mean she wouldn’t see him for five days?

Her heart gave a little lurch. She shouldn’t have felt anything at all. It was only five days. Only a holiday weekend. She would spend the majority of it with her family—Mom, Dad, two brothers, two sisters, and assorted nieces and nephews. She wouldn’t miss Lance at all. Besides, after the way he’d lorded it over her last night, some time apart would give them both greater clarity. Yes, a short break was in order.

* * *

“YOU WANT TO TAKE A BREAK UNTIL AFTER THE THANKSGIVING
holiday?” Lance was stunned.

He’d called Charlotte Sunday night to apologize. Well, not
apologize
, that wasn’t the right word. To discuss whatever issue she had.

“This is a big holiday for my family. It’s not just Thanksgiving Day itself, but lots of activities. We all go to the movies on Friday. And if the weather’s nice over the weekend”—which it was forecasted to be—“we’ll go down to Monterey. We’ll probably do the aquarium. The kids love it.”

It all sounded like an excuse not to see him. Dammit, he’d been making plans as if she were now part of his life, while she was still relegating him to the role of dom. And nothing else.

“Besides,” she went on in an almost airy tone, “we don’t want to give David Smith any more ammunition right now.”

“This is private. Just between us. He doesn’t know. No one knows.” But Charlotte had a point. With Smith on the warpath, Lance stood a better chance of defending Charlotte if no one knew about their relationship. That was in her best interests for the time being.

“All right,” he agreed. “But when I see you again, we’ll talk about the overnight arrangements. I’m changing the rules.” Said just like the dom he was supposed to be. Charlotte would fight, but he would maintain the upper hand.

She huffed loudly, a sure sign of her annoyance. “We’ll see about that, Principal Hutton. Until we speak again.”

She was gone. He wasn’t done, not anywhere near. He’d wanted to hear her come. He’d wanted to come with her.

A week without her? He’d definitely go into withdrawal. But when he had her again, Jesus, it would be explosive. The wait might very well be worth it.

* * *

DAMN. SHE SHOULD HAVE AT LEAST GOTTEN AN ORGASM OUT OF
that phone call last night. In her haste to assert control over the relationship by saying they needed a break, Charlotte had hung up on Lance too soon. One tiny little orgasm wouldn’t have hurt anything. It would definitely have taken the edge off her nerves, especially when she wouldn’t have a sexual outlet other than her vibrator until after the holiday. That bit about overnight arrangements and changing the rules, however, didn’t bode well for her retaining control.

To top it off, Charlotte was a little edgy before her appointment with Jeanine. She still hadn’t decided on the best tactic for handling her client. Should she coerce her into a couple’s session with Smith? Charlotte didn’t like the word
coerce
. She simply wanted a chance to mediate between them, an opportunity to understand exactly what Jeanine had told her husband, and to correct any misconceptions. At least to identify why he was so angry. Most likely he was afraid Charlotte was going to tell someone what he wanted his wife to do.

The red light flashed on her phone, and her chance to come up with a firm game plan was gone.

Dressed in what Charlotte could only describe as a power suit—tailored jacket with matching skirt—Jeanine took her usual seat, crossed her legs, and primly pulled the skirt’s hem to her knees.

“Thank you for coming,” Charlotte greeted her.

Jeanine set her purse on the table between them. “First, I apologize for that scene in the principal’s office. I didn’t handle it correctly.”

“It was a shock.” Charlotte would give her that.

“If I hadn’t gotten upset, David would have been none the wiser.”

This gave Charlotte the opportunity she needed. “Our therapy is confidential and private. I would never divulge anything to anyone. But you have the right to privacy, too.” Charlotte encouraged her clients to talk about their sessions with their significant others, but she also counseled that they had a right to keep whatever they wanted to themselves. It was a balance. Some of the frank discussions she had with clients could be hurtful to the other partner.

“I didn’t tell him much.” Despite her power suit, which Charlotte suspected was meant to give her courage, Jeanine stared at her stylish pumps. “He was angry that I went to a psychiatrist without telling him.”

“You have a right to consult with a therapist. The issue that needs to be addressed is why you didn’t want to tell him in the first place.”

Jeanine gaped. “You
know
why. He’s asking me to do something, well, amoral.”

“I know that upset you. But my question is more about why you didn’t say to him that you were feeling uneasy with some aspects of the relationship and needed to talk out your feelings with a professional.” She let the polite words sit for a beat, then added the punch. “Why weren’t you honest with him about seeing a therapist?”

“Because he wouldn’t have let me do it.” Jeanine’s voice rose.

“You didn’t need his permission.” Jeanine needed to stand up for what she wanted.

“It’s not about permission. He would have been afraid that I’d tell you everything. Which is exactly what I did.”

“I could have assured him that anything said within these four walls stays here.”

Jeanine shook her head. “I never would have gotten that far.” She set her mouth in a straight line. “And I wanted something for myself. I didn’t want to tell him. I didn’t want him trying to direct things. I didn’t want him coming to see you, telling you his side. This is about
my
side, about how
I
feel.”

Well, that certainly was a new perspective. Jeanine had demanded something for herself. “I agree,” Charlotte said. “But now it’s out in the open. I see no reason why we can’t continue.”

Jeanine snorted. “Oh please, you’re joking. I’ll never hear the end of it. And neither will you.” She pointed a finger. “He will hound you.”

A shiver ran down Charlotte’s spine. The man was already hounding her. “Perhaps it would be a good idea if I talked with him, assured him about confidentiality, allayed his fears.”

Jeanine shook her head. “Absolutely not. It will only make things worse.”

Without Jeanine’s permission, Charlotte was out of options. “I’m concerned about you. We still haven’t resolved the issues you came to me with in the first place.”

“Believe me, he and I aren’t talking about sex at all.”

“That doesn’t mean things are resolved.” It meant they were far worse.

Jeanine drew in a deep breath, sat up straight, squared her shoulders. “I’m not coming back, Dr. Moore. There’s nothing you can say to convince me. I’ll work this out myself.”

Charlotte hated failure. And this one was huge. Jeanine was leaving in worse shape than when she’d arrived that first day. Except for that straight back. Perhaps she was a tad less spineless. It could be a good omen for a change in the way she dealt with her husband.

“I want you to feel free to contact me at any time. But before you go, we need to talk about the mistaken impressions your husband has regarding my practice. I’m not a sex surrogate, and I am not advocating that you commit deviant acts.”