Drunk and Disorderly (Love in the City Short) (6 page)

Gambling, I turn left when I reach the street in front of his house. I start running again and glance down a side street as I approach it. The entrance gate appears down at its end. Bingo! I head straight toward it praying that someone drives up to the gate soon and it swings open. When I’m only a few feet away, a car pulls up behind me and the gates move. I slip out of them and I’m free.

However, I also have no idea where I am. An unenviable predicament to be in for sure. Who uses GPS to find their way home after a one-afternoon stand? Me, that’s who. Pathetic.

But I need to get the hell out of here. The booze has worn off and I’m not feeling too proud of myself. Out of sight (even though he was such a pretty one) hopefully means out of mind.

As I’m walking down the sidewalk I input Priscilla’s address and a map appears which will hopefully direct me back to her apartment building. The screen shows that I’m really not too far away. It’s an easy walk, so I hoof it to her house, the map and its little blue GPS dot leading my way.

Once I’m back at Priscilla’s, I take a long, hot shower, almost to the point of scalding. I don’t believe I want to wash away my experience with Coop, at least not totally, but I do.

Would I have slept with him if I were completely sober? Probably not. But I wasn’t rip-roaring, forget my morals drunk either. I think I was more intoxicated with
him
. He was beautiful. Found me attractive, hot even. And there was some crazy chemistry floating between us. A girl can only take so much. It’s the resisting part that I failed at and I’m likely just another woman who’s fallen under his same spell. Bewitched.

I made it through the rest of the week and weekend thanks to Priscilla. She arrived back in Atlanta earlier than planned. I think she worried I was in a “hide the knives mood.” I wasn’t
that
bad, but I was definitely down.

Likely unemployed still and trying to progress my liaison with Coop had left me in a tizzy. So Priscilla smothered me in chocolate—ice cream, brownies, and candies. You name it, we ate it. Add a lot of, “You’ll find the right guy,” and “He’s not good enough to shine your shoes,” talk and I headed back to Augusta feeling a bit better.

That’s where I find myself now, driving down the highway on the outskirts of my hometown, remnants of me left behind in a posh gated community in Atlanta.

It’s time for me to put Coop and our time together out of my mind. Erase it from my memory. Instead, I’ll focus on what’s next—facing my parents with their twenty million questions about how my interview went. I avoided conversations with them about it over the last few days, telling them via text that it went all right and I’d give them the run down when I got home.

Well, now’s the time as I see my mother’s car sitting in the driveway. I collect my bags and head inside girding myself in preparation for her grilling. She means well, but I think she’s ready for me to truly leave the nest, get out on my own. You know how much I want that too. It’s my constant hope.

Chapter 7

Another Wednesday rolls around. It’s been a week since my disastrous interview and I haven’t heard squat, not even a peep after writing a thank you note and emailing Mr. Reynolds. Not a good sign at all.

I’m scouring the Internet for new teaching postings when my phone rings. It’s an Atlanta number and I’m thinking Mr. Reynolds or his assistant, Mrs. Peterson, is calling to tell me the bad news.

“Hello,” I answer with absolutely no enthusiasm in my voice.

“Is this Ms. Montgomery?” Yep, it’s Mr. Reynolds. Here we go…

“Yes, this is she.” Southern manners die hard.

“Ms. Montgomery, This is Mr. Reynolds. I’m sorry that it has taken me a week to get back in touch with you. But we have finally come to a decision.” I hold my breath, preparing for the worst. “And I’d like to offer you the position of art teacher at Peachtree High School.”

After hearing those words, I’m transported somewhere else. Another planet? Jupiter or Mars perhaps? His offer is totally unexpected.

“Wait,” I bring myself back down to planet Earth. “You’re offering the position to me?”

“Absolutely. We are very excited to have you here with us a Peachtree. As a matter of fact, I need you to come back to Atlanta as soon as possible.  If you decide to take the position that is.”

Decide to take the position? You’ve got to be kidding me; of course I’ll take it. Sweet Mr. Reynolds doesn’t have a clue how my last shred of hope was long gone, likely sailing on a boat to the Bahamas.

“I’d love to teach at Peachtree. And getting back quickly to Atlanta isn’t a problem at all. When do you need me?”

“I’m so pleased that you can join our faculty here. And I hate to ask this of you on such short notice, but something you said in the interview has me thinking.”

He pauses and I wonder what the hell he’s leading into. I made up a
lot
of things in the interview and the thought is making my palms start to sweat. You know that old saying, “Chickens coming home to roost.”

“I remember you talking about bringing athletes and artists together.” At least this part in the interview was true. “Well, one of our parents was chairing a fundraiser for the football team. However, her mother has taken ill. Sudden thing. And we need your help.” He stops, waiting for my response. And being eager and excited, I jump right on it.

“Of course! I’d be glad to help in any way that I can.”

“Thank you. I was hoping you‘d say that. It’s a Casino Night. Off-site too. No students. We have a new football coach here who’s also going to be helping. Just got off the phone with him.”

I’d like you both to be the master of ceremonies at the event then divide the proceeds amongst the art department and the football boosters. Everyone’s on board with the idea here. You two will be the face of the event.”

“Wow, I think this is a great idea. When do you need me there?” The wheels in my brain are already starting to churn with ideas of what I can have art students do with a little extra money.

“The event is this Saturday. Short notice I know, but if you could possibly drive to Atlanta tonight and meet with me in the morning. The football coach is coming in at nine.”

“I can definitely be there. No problems at all.” Thank God, Priscilla is in Atlanta right now.

“Great. I think you and this new coach will get a long fine. He’s rather a big star around here. Maybe you’ve heard of him, Andrew Cooper?”

That’s right, the one and only Andrew Cooper. Better known as Coop. I don’t really remember the rest of my conversation with Mr. Reynolds. I have the important things down, though. I got the teaching job. I need to be at Peachtree tomorrow morning. And lastly, Coop is the new football coach.

Kill me now!

When I’m a little more coherent and stop shaking, I give Priscilla a call. She needs to talk me down off the ledge here. I’m perched atop a thirty-story building fearing that I’m going to be pushed to my death.

“Hey, Millie. I’ve been waiting for your call.”

“You have?”

“Yes, I have some inside sources remember. I teach at Peachtree.” She’s laughing, but I’m still dying.

“Right, well I got the job.” My voice is flat.

“I know. I found out the other woman they interviewed was leaving her position due to personal misconduct. Or more commonly know as having an affair with a married teacher.”

“I knew there had to be a reason I got the job over her.”

“What’s wrong with you, Millie?” She seems concerned. “I thought you’d be going crazy.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the new football coach that was hired today at Peachtree. Andrew Cooper. Ring any bells?”

“No shit.” She seems shocked too. “How did you find that out before me?”

“Mr. Reynolds informed me that Coop and I are needed to work together on a fundraiser this weekend for the football booster program. A casino night. We’re headlining the event.”

“This is bad on so many levels. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. But I feel sick at the thought of seeing Coop again let alone working with him on something. It’s turned my dream of getting this job into a nightmare.”

“It’s unbelievable. What are the odds?”  Priscilla knows me better than to ask that question.

“Me and Murphy have been friends all my life.” That’s Murphy’s Law in case there was a question.

“Funny, Millie,” she retorts.

“If it’s okay, I’m heading to Atlanta tonight. Mr. Reynolds wants me in his office at nine tomorrow morning.”

“Wow, that’s quick. But I don’t have any big plans tonight, so come on in. I think I’ll run by the liquor store too. We may need a few drinks to help us strategize for tomorrow.”

“Thanks so much. I need to go tell my parents what’s up. And pack for a few days. Is it okay if I stay with you until Sunday?”

“Sure. No problem.”

“I’ll text you when I’m leaving for Atlanta.”

“Okay. And keep your chin up. Somehow you’ll get through this.”

“I hope you’re right. Talk to you later.”

I end the conversation and prepare for telling my parents. I have to muster up some excitement or they may not believe that I was offered the job. Time for a Meryl Streep worthy Academy Award performance.

Chapter 8

My stomach is tied in knots. My nerves are completely shot. I hardly slept a wink last night just tossed and turned, worried and fretted about seeing Coop again today. I pull into the parking lot of Peachtree High school at 8:45 a.m. The lot’s practically empty since school’s not in session. But I see a familiar car. An expensive sports car. Damn, it’s Coop’s sweet ride which means he’s here already.

You know what really stinks? I should be thrilled about this job. Bouncing off the ceiling and walls with excitement. Instead, my palms are clammy and I feel like I’m going to throw up.

I walk the long sidewalk that leads to the doors of the building. Each step brings me closer to a fate I never dreamed of—facing my first and only sexual regret, even it is only a partial one.

Sheryl Crow’s song, “My Favorite Mistake” keeps playing in my brain, a tribute to my misery. But I have to admit it’s true. Deep down inside I know I’d probably succumb to Coop again. He was just so damn perfect in his lovemaking. I’ve tried to forget what his hands, mouth and everything else felt like that day. But it’s no use. The more I try, the more I remember. Ruined, I’m completely ruined.

Once inside the building, I smooth down the cotton material of my sensible dress. Priscilla dressed me this morning, styled my hair and applied my makeup. My mind was too scattered to make decisions or concentrate. She chose a respectable appearance for me, not quite schoolmarm but close.

I reach for the doorknob to the main office. My fingers freeze over the shiny metal. I dread the moment when I will face Coop, when our eyes meet. The thought petrifies me. What will his reaction be of seeing me again? At least I have the advantage of knowing what lies ahead of me. He’s completely clueless.

Mr. Reynolds probably used the name, Amelia Montgomery when he spoke of me and Coop only knows me as Millie.

I clasp my hands together as I enter the office, worried that their shaking might be visible.

I spot Mrs. Peterson in the distance. Her head down as she shuffles through some papers. I start walking toward her. My movement must have been detected as she looks up and smiles at me. God, how I needed to see her warm smiling face right now. It’s comforting.

“Hello, Ms. Montgomery,” she sweetly greets me. “Congratulations on your new position here. We’re super happy to have you.”

“Thank you. I am so happy too.” I try to muster up some enthusiasm, but it’s just not there.

“Mr. Reynolds is in his office with Andrew Cooper. He’s a real looker. Single, I’ve heard too.” She winks at me and I want to sink into the floor. I’m tempted to turn and run out the door. “Let me open the door to his office for you.”

I follow her a few steps to the principal’s office and the space where Coop awaits. My knees are weak, hardly holding me up.

As she pushes the door open, and I peek in around her. Mr. Reynolds reacts to her at the door and rises from his chair behind his desk. Coop sits in front of him in the exact seat I sat in during my interview. I gingerly take a couple steps toward the desk as Coop turns his head and pivots his body my direction. Our eyes meet across the space. There’s only a few feet between us.

It takes him a second to register who I am, like he’s trying to place me. His brows are pinched in concentration. But the second he figures out that it’s me, Millie, the girl he screwed last Wednesday, I know it. His jaw drops. His eyes widen in shock. His hair might even be standing on end. It’s like a bolt of electricity ran through him and he jolts straight up to his feet.

Now Coop’s whole body is turned to me. We’re staring at each other. Deadlocked. Each of us standing as still as soldiers guarding Big Ben. I forget that there are others in the room until I hear Mr. Reynolds coughing slightly to get our attention.

“Hello, Ms. Montgomery,” Mr. Reynolds says breaking the spell between Coop and me. He walks to me and shakes my hand. “Great to have you here with us and on such short notice. I’d like to introduce you to our new assistant football coach, Coach Andrew Cooper. He goes by Coop.”

I take Coop’s outstretched hand into mine. He does more than shake it. He presses his fingers a little too firmly around mine. Then he holds my hand in his tight grip a little longer than is proper. We each mumble a, “Hello, nice to meet you.”

He releases my hand and his fingers slowly trail the length of mine as he pulls away. All I can think about is what those fingers did to me in his bed. How they pleasured me. A rush of heat floods over me at the memory. I’m betting my face has turned a fire engine red too, betraying my thoughts.

“Please have a seat, you two, and welcome again. I’m very glad to have you both here. Our newest additions to Peachtree.”

“Thank you,” we both say at the same time. I give Coop a nervous glance.

Somewhere from deep down inside, I force my legs to move. They bring me just inches away from Coop as I sit down. Mr. Reynolds and Coop follow my lead and sit down too. Pure southern gentlemen waiting to take a seat until the lady sits down first.