Teach Me a Lesson (30 page)

“I’ll call you when we get back,” Lola said, “and we can analyze the whole thing again until you admit I’m right.”

Charlotte didn’t need further analysis. With the principal, she wasn’t in control, and she never could be.

24

“THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT LAST WEDNESDAY, JEANINE. I WAS
very proud of you for handling your husband the way you did.”

Jeanine had arrived for her regular Monday appointment. She still tended to look at her knees when she talked, but she hadn’t brought out the tissues, and they were already fifteen minutes into the session.

Charlotte had great hope for her. “I’m not sure we have a lot more to work on. You needed the confidence to stand up to your husband and you did.” It could have gone badly. They might have been on the verge of divorce after the way Jeanine had challenged him. But oddly, David Smith apologized to his wife later that same day. “You’ve paved the way for having a mutually satisfying discussion on the rest of your issues.”

Jeanine’s eyes darted up. “You can’t leave me yet. I’m going to talk him into couple’s counseling if it’s the last thing I do, and I can’t bring up all this stuff with anyone else now. It was hard enough telling you the first time.”

“There’s a problem with that.” Charlotte had to be diplomatic. “Your husband and I don’t have a good relationship, and I don’t believe I’m the right therapist to mediate for the two of you.” In addition, Charlotte wasn’t sure she could work with the man after what he’d tried to do to her.

“I don’t want someone to mediate. I want someone to challenge him.” Jeanine leaned forward, lowering her voice. “You know his secret.”

“About the other men?”

“About the impotency,” Jeanine said, eyes widening as if it was patently obvious. “That’s what he was afraid you were going to tell.”

“He was worried I’d tell someone he suffers from ED?” That’s what this was all about, not even the fact that he wanted his wife to have sex with other men? It was mind-boggling.

“Of course. If Principal Hutton knew, he’d have made David a laughingstock.”

“That’s ridiculous. The principal isn’t like that. He’s a man of integrity.”

“Well, David thinks he’s out for his job. He says Principal Hutton fights him at every turn. So he was fighting back.” She puffed up her chest and deepened her voice. “‘It’s a dog-eat-dog world, Jeanine.’”

Charlotte was taken aback. “Principal Hutton isn’t interested in being on the school board. He prefers working directly with the kids.”

Jeanine raised one brow. “He strikes me as someone who always needs to be in charge.”

“Perhaps. But when it comes to his students, he’s always got their best interests in mind.”

“It must be hard working for him.”

“No, it’s very easy.” It
had
been easy until that day in detention hall when she’d goaded him into spanking her. Then again, she didn’t actually work for him. She worked for Alice.

But they were straying from the point. This wasn’t about Lance. Or her. It was about Jeanine and David Smith.

Charlotte turned it around on her. “It sounds like you’re transferring all your husband’s qualities onto the principal. Isn’t David the one who needs to be in charge?”

Jeanine shrugged. “Not really. It appears that way, but that’s only because he’s been under pressure, feeling that his reputation was being threatened.”

Charlotte remembered their earlier discussions, that Jeanine’s husband wore two personas, one for everyone at work and a much easier-going side for home. This was the man Jeanine had fallen for, the man she lived with, the man she wanted back.

“Come to think of it,” Jeanine mused, “all his current behavior stems from my having threatened his reputation by coming to you in the first place. Actually it’s my fault. If I’d told him that I wanted to see someone, if I hadn’t kept you a secret from him, then none of this would have happened.” She focused on Charlotte’s face. “You always encouraged me to come clean. I should have done what you suggested.”

She couldn’t have Jeanine start playing the blame game now. It would be totally counterproductive. “You didn’t tell him because you knew how he’d react. You didn’t want to add a fight about our sessions to the arguments you were already having about sex. You had a legitimate reason.” And Jeanine was proven correct. David Smith’s reaction had been near devastating. “So don’t start taking blame yourself for how everyone else reacts.”

Jeanine heaved a great sigh of relief that blew out her lips. “Thank you, Doctor. For a minute there, I was actually letting myself get carried away again.”

But her own words, in addition to Jeanine’s, made Charlotte stop. She was taking blame for everyone else, too. She was the therapist, so she was supposed to fix them all. If she’d fixed Jeanine, then David Smith wouldn’t have started all the trouble. If she’d fixed Melody, then the Wrights wouldn’t have started the petition. If she’d handled Kathryn Wright more diplomatically in that first session, she wouldn’t have gotten her back up. That had been her thinking since the rally in the quad. Charlotte had taken all the blame. But in reality, they had to fix themselves. She was merely the conduit. Maybe all the weeks with Charlotte were the reason Jeanine had finally stood up to her husband. And why Melody was suddenly holding hands with Eric. Charlotte had given all the credit to Lance and taken all the blame for herself, but they’d all played their roles, and each of them had had an effect.

And really, had Lance done anything horrendous? David Smith was dictatorial simply to protect his reputation, but Lance had used his authority to protect her. Was that such a bad thing? Would he really try to take over her life, control her every action, tell her what to do, belittle her if he didn’t agree with her decisions? Or was she basing that conclusion on emotions and fears that belonged to the woman she’d been with Martin?

You’re so terrified of losing control of your life that you can’t even accept help without thinking someone’s trying to take over.

Lola had it right.

“We all let ourselves get carried away with our fears sometimes,” she said in answer to Jeanine’s comment. “It’s learning to recognize it before it does any damage that counts.”

She wondered if she’d recognized it before the damage was irreparable. Only Lance could tell her for sure.

* * *

FOR THE REST OF JEANINE’S SESSION, THEY’D GONE BACK TO HER
original problem: how to approach her husband about fantasizing and setting limits and ground rules. Actually, setting limits had arisen out of Charlotte’s rules with the principal.

Did she want any limits? Did they need any ground rules? Or should she just tell Lance she was his submissive, and he could do whatever he wanted? Charlotte wasn’t sure what she needed, except to talk to him. She’d think about what to say once she heard his voice.

Jeanine, however, had needed coaching and practice to figure out how to convey exactly what she wanted. She would also work on getting David Smith in for couple’s counseling. Charlotte was sure she’d have a difficult time overcoming the hostility between herself and the chairman of the school board. She’d have to do it, though, for Jeanine. It was too much to expect the woman to start over with a new therapist. Jeanine was Charlotte’s responsibility.

All in all, it was a good afternoon, her remaining sessions of the day going to according to plan. She would have driven straight to Lance’s house, said a dirty word, and received her well-deserved punishment—maybe that was all she needed to say or do—but honestly, she wanted to shower and change. And shave her legs.

Half an hour after she’d gotten home, she stood in only panties and bra amid the chaos of her bedroom. Piles of discarded clothes were all over the bed. And the chair. And the carpet. What was the perfect outfit?

She huffed out a frustrated breath, blowing a wayward lock of hair off her forehead.

Then her phone rang. Her heart leaped. But it was Lola, not the principal. Ah, but Lola could help her pick out what to wear.

She answered with “Hey, when’d you get back?”

“We stayed an extra day and just dropped Rafe off at his mom’s. And I’ve told Gray I’m moving in, so we want you to come over to his house to celebrate with us tonight.”

No, no, no, she had to see Lance. He’d had five days to brood about everything she’d said last week, not to mention that she’d ignored all his phone calls.

“Woo-hoo,” she said, trying to sound enthused. Honestly, she was happy for Lola.

“We’ve got a bottle of champagne. And I was hoping you’d help me pack everything up.”

“Tonight?” Luckily, her voice didn’t come out as a shriek.

Lola snorted. “Of course not. Tonight’s champagne, next weekend is marathon packing.”

“Sure, I can help.” But
tonight
 . . . She’d gone on and on for Lola to take this step, so how was she supposed to beg off the celebration? “I’m dying for champagne. What time do you want me there?”

They decided on forty-five minutes. She could move on to Lance’s house after she’d toasted Lola on her decision.

What if he’d decided she was too much of a pain in the butt and was already looking for a new sub?

She couldn’t think negatively. Instead, she chose the sexiest outfit on the bed.

* * *

CHARLOTTE HAD BEEN TO GRAY’S HOUSE SEVERAL TIMES. THE YARD
was neatly trimmed, edged with manicured bushes that acted as a short fence around the lawn. The front path was trimmed with ground lights, and the porch illuminated by Chinese lanterns on either side of the double doors.

She rang the bell. Gray—the coach, as Lola liked to call him—answered the door, reaching out to enfold her in a bear hug. He was big and tall, making her feel petite in his embrace, just the way Lance did. A few years younger than Lance, with only a few strands of gray in his dark hair, Gray was Lola’s perfect complement.

“She’s fussing in the kitchen.” He waved a hand behind him.

Lola was not a gourmet cook, but since her twin nephews had stayed with her for the summer, she’d been working on her culinary skills.

“How was the snow?”

“White.” He gave her a gleaming grin, then ushered her into the living room where the champagne was chilling in a bucket on the brick fireplace.

Lola floated in from the kitchen, a tray balanced on her hand. Cambozola cheese, rice crackers, and pepper jelly.

“Yum,” Charlotte said. She’d powered down half a salad out of the fridge before she’d left home, but the cheese was her favorite, and her stomach clamored for a taste.

While Gray popped the champagne and filled three flutes, Lola set the goodies on the coffee table. She was radiant in a slim-fitting black velvet cocktail dress with a scoop neck and long sleeves that tapered to a point. She’d accented the outfit with black nylons and suede high heels.

Charlotte didn’t feel underdressed in her ensemble. “You certainly look like the cold weather suited you.”

Lola’s smile was radiant, too. “It most certainly did.”

“For you, my dear.” Gray handed a glass of champagne to Lola, then Charlotte. With his own in hand, he raised the flute to toast. “To you, Charlotte, who, I understand, was instrumental in encouraging Lola to move in with me.”

“My pleasure.” She tapped her glass to his, then turned to Lola.

And almost dropped the damn thing. “Oh my God, an engagement ring.” A shot of excitement kicked her pulse rate up. She glanced at Gray, his beaming face, then his fingers holding the champagne glass. One finger in particular, which bore a plain gold ring. “You didn’t.” Wide-eyed, she checked Lola’s hand again. Not only was there a solitaire diamond, but also a matching gold band. “Jesus, you got married.” Charlotte could hardly take it in.

“You aren’t mad that we didn’t take you with us, are you?” The brown of Lola’s eyes deepened. “Gray”—she glanced briefly at him—“surprised me.”

“I knew if I gave her too long to think about it,” he said, “she’d say no.”

But had Lola
really
thought about it? For a woman who couldn’t make up her mind if she wanted to move in, Lola had certainly made a sudden turnaround. “A leap of faith?” she said softly, her voice rising just enough to make it a question.

Lola touched her hand. “Yeah. I told Gray that you were right. I was crazy for not jumping in with both feet, eyes closed, and nose pinched.”

Charlotte made a face. “I didn’t say it exactly like that.”

“Whatever you said,” Gray drawled, “was absolutely perfect.”

“I would have done it anyway,” Lola said. “Eventually.”

It was true. Lola might have been scared, but she wasn’t an idiot. She never would have let Gray go. Besides, Charlotte would have beaten her bloody if she had.

“Anyway,” Lola continued the matrimonial story, “we had to stay until Monday. We couldn’t get the license at the county clerk’s office the week before because of the holiday.”

“It’s down in Minden,” Gray explained, “on the other side of the Kingsbury Grade from South Lake Tahoe. We decided to get married right there in the courthouse instead of going back to Tahoe.”

“We couldn’t find a chapel on the spur of the moment that wasn’t just plain cheesy.” Lola stifled a giggle with her hand. “But we had to wait for half an hour while the judge finished sentencing a bunch of prisoners.”

It sounded romantic in an odd sort of way. “So you just got married this morning?”

Lola bobbed her head. Gray laced his fingers with hers. “Yes.”

“How was Rafe with all this?” She regretted the question as soon as it was out. This wasn’t the time to put a damper on their day.

“I asked his permission.” Gray pulled Lola under his arm, hugging her close to his side. “He said he thought Lola was good for me. He came into the judge’s chambers with us.”

It was amazing. Three months ago, Rafe had hated Lola. “So you got married this morning and just rushed home?” They didn’t even get a wedding night. Although having your son in the next room might not be such a romantic idea anyway.

“Rafe had to be back to school tomorrow.” Gray shrugged. “Some project due.”