Redhead Blitz (7 page)

She blinked her way out of her daydream.
 
Was Sean, at this moment, telling Fred not to be such a horse’s ass?
 
Fred didn’t intimidate her, but
Gigi
appreciated the other two men’s consideration.
 
Being all too familiar with Fred’s type, she figured Sean’s efforts wouldn’t do any good.
 
But such a chivalrous gesture only proved to increase her admiration, which was already at a dangerously high level.

No more office relationships
.
 
No more office relationships
.
 
No more office relationships
.

Why was it when she finally found some resolve, she meets a really great guy?
 
Sean genuinely cared about his players.
 
Enough to tutor one in the evening.
 
He had helped her with the schedule problem even though it had made him late for practice.
 
Plus she’d been giving him the cold shoulder.

And the misunderstanding about the note, well, he
had
tried to be kind in turning her down when he thought she’d wanted him to ask her out.
 
Guilt ate away at her conscience.
 
It was well past time to tell him about the ding to his car.

Lawrence studied her. “If Fred upset you, I can speak with him, too.”
 

What kind of expression had been on her face?
 
She gave
Lawrence
a reassuring smile.
 
“That’s okay.
 
I’ve handled plenty of
Freds
.”
 
Which was exactly why
Gigi
should have learned to steer clear of personal relationships with male co-workers.

“I just bet you have.”
 
Lawrence
chuckled, his pleasant baritone soothing.
 
He popped the last bite of donut in his mouth and grabbed a pile of papers off his desk.

“Thanks again for the donuts.
 
Have a good one.”

“It’s Miss Thompson, isn’t it?”

Gigi
looked up from her computer monitor to see a plump woman in a billowing black skirt approach her desk.
 
Her gray hair was cut short, and a triple-strand of black crystal beads accented the round neck of her multi-colored blouse.
 
Her assured manner and determined expression made
Gigi
pop up from her chair like a crisp piece of bread from a toaster.

“That’s right.
 
But please, call me
Gigi
.” She extended her hand. The woman took it without hesitation and gave her a single firm shake, smiling earnestly.
 
Jeweled rings sparkled from each of her thick fingers.

“I’m L. R. Billings, but unless a student is present, feel free to call me L. R.
 
Welcome to Newtown High.”

Ah, yes.
 
Al had mentioned the name of the principal, and that she was attending some Ohio Department of Education meetings in Columbus until yesterday.
 
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.
 
How was your trip?”

“Columbus is a fine city.”
 
L. R.’s features softened somewhat and her grey eyes glistened.
 
“Although it’s changed quite a bit since I did my undergraduate work at
Ohio
State
.”

“So, you’re a Buckeye?”
 
Gigi
relaxed with the principal’s growing smile.

“We’re all Buckeyes, my dear. So, how is everything going?”
 
She quickly scanned the office as if looking for evidence of chaos.

Gigi
held her breath.
 
She’d inherited her father’s obsession with organization, and although the desktops were not yet clear of papers, they appeared orderly.

“Everyone’s helping me get acclimated,” she said, relieved to know it was true.

“Glad to hear it.
 
I was a bit concerned with the timing of Annie’s departure, but, it seems that you’re getting caught up with Al’s piles.
 
Did he mention the spirit-wear sale to you?”

He had, right before he’d left for yet another meeting.
 
He’d also handed her a page of notes from the principal.
 
She picked it up from the top of a neat stack on her desk for L.R. to see.

“Good, we need to run with this.”

Gigi
squnited
at the chicken-
scratchings
filling the page.

“I just got off the phone with Tony Walters,” L.R. said.
 
“His son is a freshman football player.
 
Mr. Walters makes logo T-shirts and sweatshirts.
 
He’s offered us a discount and will do a special design for the athletic fundraiser.”

The woman’s exuberance was contagious, and suddenly marketing ideas whirled through
Gigi’s
head.

L.R. rubbed her palms together. “We could sell tees and sweatshirts to students and their families as well as the community at large.”

“Would this be strictly a football logo?”
Gigi
asked.

“Not necessarily.
 
Tony was going to come up with a couple designs, but if you have any ideas, I’d be interested in seeing them.”

“If the design featured the Lion’s mascot rather than the football team, we could sell them for all the Fall sports: cross-country, soccer, golf,
and
football.”

“That’s a good idea, but I’m not sure we have a large enough volunteer pool to staff a booth at all those events.”

Gigi
tapped her index finger on top of another stack of papers, grinning.
 
“I have all the new parent volunteer forms here, with a few trickling in every day.
 
I’d planned on updating the database tomorrow.
 
After that’s done, maybe I could work out a schedule.”

What would work best for parents?
 
Her old friend, Jan, now a harried soccer mom, came to mind.
 
“Short shifts would allow busy parents to say yes, even if that means only selling during part of an event.”

“Good thinking.
 
Sounds like it could work.
 
When you can, I’d like you to get started on that.
 
I have a stack of other things to deal with since I’ve been gone, so I also want you to get in touch with Tony.
 
Here’s his number.”
 
L.R. handed her a Post-it note.

Gigi’s
pulse did a little hop-
skip
-jump.
 
This woman already trusted her with such a large undertaking?
 
Her previous employers thought all she was capable of was brewing coffee, answering the telephone and looking pretty at a receptionist’s desk.
 

Before she could thank L.R. for her confidence, the principal barreled ahead.
 
“Bring me his designs when you get them.
 
And do you think you could come up with a flier to send home with the students?”

“Of course.”
 
Enthusiasm fed
Gigi’s
confidence.
 
“Is there anything I should tell Mr. Matthews?”
 
She grabbed a pad of paper and began scribbling notes.

“Al’s got a full plate right now and most of the work will to fall to you anyway.
 
Just keep him informed of what’s going on.”

Gigi
hummed with excitement.
 
“When would you like those designs?”

“As soon as possible.
 
I know you have quite a bit to get in order here.”
 
L.R. looked at
Gigi’s
and Al’s desks and smiled.
 
“But it appears you’re well on your way.
 
See what you can do.”

A good-natured challenge if she’d ever heard one.
 
Gigi
felt more professional satisfaction than she could ever remember.
 
And she relished the feeling.
 
“I’ll give Mr. Walters a call and get back with you.”

Sean closed his eyes, rested his forehead on his folded arms and granted himself a reprieve from the pathetic essay written by one of his first period students.
 
Had Tiffany read one page of her text or listened to any of his lectures on the Civil War?
 
From this drivel, it appeared that she’d watched
Gone With The Wind
and dedicated a full twenty minutes to writing her paper.

He inhaled deeply to clear his head.
 
With that, the memory of
Gigi’s
scent crowded out his troubled thoughts and sent his mind wandering.
 
He pictured the way her emerald eyes lit up when she smiled.
 
The way her long red hair curled, almost reverently, around the mounds of her breasts.
 
How would those curls feel as he ran his fingers through them?
 
How would they feel waving against his skin as she rhythmically rode above him?

To Sean, sex had always been a simple scratch to appease an itch, one easily seen to by any number of attractive women.
 
But for some unidentifiable reason, he suspected sex would be very different with
Gigi
.
 
The idea of being intimate with her and then moving on to someone else was difficult to imagine.
 
Not that he would find out firsthand.
 
He didn’t want to invite trouble from Al.
 
Gigi
was off-limits as long as they both worked here.
 
And his social life was on hold until further notice anyway.

Which was just as well.
 
He’d probably fall asleep on a bed partner immediately after coming.
 
Not the best way to impress the ladies.
 
Yet just thinking about
Gigi
had him in a constant state of semi-arousal.
 
And when he was around her, the full-fledged hard-
ons
he suffered rivaled those he’d endured in his teens.

“Sean?”
Gigi
called his name, her tone hushed.

For half a second Sean thought was dreaming again.
 
Then he popped his head up and stood, his brain scrambling for a way to look less guilty.
 
“Yeah?
 
I, ah, was just taking a break.”
 
He fidgeted with his red pen.
 
“These essays aren’t going as well as I’d hoped.”

“You don’t have to explain.
 
I just didn’t want to disturb you if—”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” he said, perhaps a bit too insistently.

“Oh, I believe you.”
 
Her gaze flitted nervously around the room, then paused on his poster.
 
Sean wondered if she was a Corvette lover.
 
After long seconds, he cleared his throat.

“Sorry.”
 
She straightened her spine.
 
“There was something I needed to speak to you about.
 
Two things really.”

Curiosity revived him.
 
“All right.”

“First, I wanted to thank you for finding the error with the schedules. I didn’t get a chance to properly thank you yesterday.”

“No problem.”
 
The numerous ways she could properly thank him filled his head, horn-dog that he was.
 
Sean mentally forced his attention away from that train of thought before his body reacted in kind.
 
Something about the way her gaze flitted around made her appear tense, which in turn made his shoulder muscles tighten.