At least where Veronika was concerned.
Makayla thanked Mr. Gibson for coming. When he left, she walked over to the window and stared outside. As she admired the soft, mellow light of the sun, her thoughts turned to her meeting with Brenda Van Buren. It wouldn’t be long before a position in the travel department opened up at The Philadelphia Blaze. For now, she would pen her weekly column as Lady Sexpot and hone her writing skills. But when the opportunity presented itself, she would have no problems resigning and packing a suitcase for Rome. Or Singapore. Or Barbados. It didn’t matter what the assignment was. As long as she was doing what she loved, she’d be happy.
A week after the incident on the playground, Veronika showed up in the middle of the afternoon, with cake, ice cream and soda. When she announced that it was Terrance’s birthday and she wanted him to celebrate with his friends, Makayla slapped a smile on her face, told the kids to put away their math books and donned one of the glittery party hats. She’d hoped to review the subtraction lesson with the class before tomorrow’s test but by the time they finished cleaning up after the cake, there were only ten minutes left in the day.
Makayla kept at least three kids between herself and Veronika all afternoon. It annoyed her no end that her desk was used to cut cake and dish out ice cream, but she kept her mouth shut. One run-in with Veronika was enough. Makayla was walking around the room, collecting garbage and wiping down desks, when Mrs. Blake called her name. “Where is the class going on Wednesday?” she asked from behind the lens of her digital camera.
“We’re going to the zoo to observe the plants and animals in their natural habitat. It’s an opportunity for the students to—”
“Do you still need volunteers?”
The thought of spending an entire day with Veronika made Makayla shudder. “Extra volunteers are always welcome.” She injected her voice with a kindness she didn’t feel. “Are you available on Wednesday from nine to two?”
“No, but my brother-in-law said he’d be happy to go.”
“Great.”
Veronika stared lovingly at Terrance, a wide smile on her lips. “Try not to let anything happen to my son this time.”
Relieved that Mrs. Blake wasn’t coming on the field trip, Makayla chose to ignore her last comment. “Can you remind Terrance that he has to be on his best behavior? If there are any problems, you’ll be called to pick him up.”
“It’s not your place to tell me how to raise my child. And I don’t appreciate you threatening him, either.”
Makayla stood her ground. “I am not threatening anyone, I am merely asking you to speak to your son.” To further underline her point, she added, “We don’t want what happened at the museum to happen again, do we?”
Mrs. Blake made a sour face. No doubt she was thinking about what had happened last month. Terrance had tried to pin the blame on a classmate but the janitor had signaled him out as the one who wrote on the walls in crayon. The cleaning bill had set Mrs. Blake back hundreds of dollars and Terrance had been banned from The Philadelphia Museum for a year.
“If you’d rather I speak to Kenyon, I will.”
Her lips were a tight line. “No. I’ll talk to Terrance.”
“Thank you,” Makayla said with forced gratitude. Making a mental note to replace the sweatsuit she had been planning to wear with something dressier, she returned to her desk and added Kenyon’s name to the volunteer list.
Kenyon chucked his jacket in the back seat, grabbed his camera equipment and slammed the car door. The fickle autumn weather had changed again, providing a surprisingly warm day, and he didn’t want to be stuck lugging his jacket around the zoo.
Kenyon checked his watch as he searched the zoo parking lot. Springs Park Elementary should be here any minute. Instead of standing at the entrance among the crowd, he went inside the customer information booth and settled down on one of the wooden benches. He was engrossed in the morning paper until he heard Kay’s voice, loud and clear.
Tossing his newspaper aside, he turned his attention to the eye-catching woman surrounded by a pack of restless first-graders. Sexy had never looked so good. From his vantage point, he had a clear, unrestricted view of Kay’s delicious backside. Blue jeans outlined her strong legs and a teal-colored shirt hugged her lavish chest. When she tossed a fleeting look over her shoulder, Kenyon was sure he had been made, but just as quickly as she glanced around, she turned away. He allowed himself a few more minutes of quiet reflection. Or rather, lustful gazing.
Last night, he had driven Terrance to her Patterson Park home to apologize for what had happened on the playground. They hadn’t stayed long, but Kenyon had gathered all the information he needed. Dinner and a movie wouldn’t work with a woman like Kay Stevens. She didn’t own a TV, VCR or a DVD player. In fact, the only piece of electronic equipment in the living room was an outdated stereo system. When Kenyon asked her what she did for fun, she motioned with her head to the numerous bookshelves lining the wall and said, “Read.”
That had thrown him for a loop. Most women would have said shopping. Not Kay. She would rather stay home and read than go dancing. Kenyon couldn’t remember the last time he had bought a book but he’d head to the closest bookstore and buy a whole stack of reading material if it meant getting close to Kay.
Kenyon had wandered around the living room, noting the simple decor and natural designs. Furnished with cozy sofas, armless chairs and overstuffed bookcases, it resembled a bookstore. He had perused the shelves. The reading material she owned provided incredible insight into the shy but sexy teacher. Instead of educational resources, he found hundreds of books about sex, including the Kama Sutra, the Woman’s Gourmet Sex Book and various issues of erotic magazines. The collection had left Kenyon short of breath. If Terrance had been at home, rather than in the kitchen with Kay making cocoa, Kenyon would have gone in there, pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
Kenyon settled back onto the bench, listening to Kay lecture the students gathered around her, enraptured by the soft, pleasant tone in her voice. For the last twenty-four hours, he had been trying to figure out why she would have so many books about foreplay, erogenous zones and aphrodisiacs. She couldn’t be involved in anything as daring as escorting, could she? Kenyon examined her again. No, she just didn’t give off that kind of vibe. In his presence, she was skittish, flustered, almost tongue-tied. Could it be an act? Was it possible she was really none of the things she appeared to be?
His face relaxed into a smile. It didn’t really matter whether she was acting or not. Kenyon hadn’t lived as a monk; he knew what was up. These days, women weren’t at home waiting by the phone for a man to call. They were out in the clubs, seeking a good time, thirsty for some action and adventure. Kenyon liked experienced women. The more experience the better. He wasn’t one of those men who had sampled all that life had to offer but wanted a good, clean girl to bring home to mom. A bad girl would suit him just fine.
Thoughts of making love to Kay plagued his mind. He saw them kissing, exploring, undressing. With all those naughty sex books at her disposal, she probably had moves he had never seen. Kenyon sighed in silent appreciation. It wouldn’t be long before they were acting out their own private fantasies.
Draping an arm over the bench, he stretched his long legs out in front of him. His interest in Kay Stevens grew every time he saw her. The slender, dark-skinned beauty had a lot going for her. Not just physically, either. Making love to her was at the fore-front of his mind, but he liked that she could also carry on an intelligent
