Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“No sweat,” I answer. After which, I watch him disappear inside, taking his heavy thoughts and somber mood with him.
Chapter Fourteen
“Hmm,” says the man sitting across from me. I look up from picking at the nail bed of my thumb and meet his thoughtful gaze.
Four months ago, out of some insane unfounded optimism, I sent my resume to a bunch of schools that had teaching positions available. One of them actually called to set up an interview. The cherry on top was that I received the call while Calvin was busy digging into the egg white omelet with mixed vegetables I’d made for him. Such sweet delight. I won’t lie, I spoke loud enough for the entire block to hear.
Okay, so it isn’t the greatest. Located in one of the worst sections of the Bronx, the commute to New Jersey is awful––and dangerous if I have to stay late for meetings. Regardless, I can really make an impact on the lives of the kids living in that neighborhood so the risk is worth it…and let’s face it, not like I stood a chance landing any of the primo jobs in Manhattan and Westchester.
“Are you currently employed, Ms. DeSantis?” Mr. Rodriguez, the Principal and head of the hiring committee asks with a warm, sincere smile. The groves fanning out from his dark eyes and the bristly gray hair lend him an appealing gravitas. I perk up at his query and nod enthusiastically. “I am. I’m currently homeschooling an eight year old boy.”
“You didn’t list that on your resume.”
“Ah, that’s because his uncle, the man who hired me, is a… uhh…public figure. I signed a nondisclosure agreement.”
Principal Rodriguez’s curiosity is piqued. I notice his eyes grow a touch wider. He reclines in his chair and places his hands behind his head, a silent debate clearly being fought somewhere inside his skull. “Well, Ms. DeSantis, as much as I’d like to say it doesn’t make a difference that you have no references, I’m afraid I can’t. Do you think your employer would be willing to write you one?”
Just the thought of asking Calvin for a favor sets my teeth on edge. “He takes his privacy very seriously,” I explain, dejected beyond measure. His blank stare prods me to continue. “I can try.” The corners of my mouth creep up in a forced smile.
“Great,” the principal answers as if it’s all settled.
“Great,” I mirror, stiffly reaching out to shake his hand. All that’s left for me to do now is to give up the microscopic particle of dignity I have left.
It takes me an excruciating four hours to get back to Calvin’s, an accident on the Cross Bronx Expressway turning it into a parking lot. I’m in the kitchen, making myself tea before heading off to bed, when Cal walks in. His intense gaze takes in my rounded shoulders and the mood I’m wearing. Walking past me, he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and takes a seat at the counter.
“How’d it go?”
“Good.”
“You think you’ll get it?” he murmurs in between sips of water, his scrutiny a palpable thing.
“Not sure.”
A lengthy pause ensues. “Do you need a personal reference?”
I thought I was immune to surprises. I thought Matt had cured me of those. I was wrong. It takes me a full minute to dig my voice out under all the disbelief. I turn to take in his face. Which is a bit difficult when you have a mostly naked Adonis before you. I may not be cured of surprises, but he’ll never be cured of parading around nude.
“You’d do that?” I say, my voice overly bright with excitement. And then he surprises me again by frowning.
“What do you take me for, Cam?” There’s a wounded look on his face that makes me feel like garbage. Jezuz, I hurt his feelings. I don’t ever want to hurt anyone’s feelings, least of all his. He stands, looking…shit, he looks disappointed. “I’ll have it for you tomorrow.”
Without waiting for me to respond he walks out of the kitchen, leaving me to deal with the fact that I suddenly really care about what he thinks, that I’ll do anything to avoid seeing that look of disappointment in his eyes ever again.
We spend the rest of next week treating each other with polite indifference, falling into a routine of sorts. As promised, Cal wrote a glowing letter of recommendation––which only made me feel worse. And to add insult to injury, when I called Principal Rodriguez to inform him I was emailing it over, he in turn informed me that they had already hired a more qualified applicant.
Without me extending an invitation or him voicing a preference, we all eat breakfast together. Not much is said. Then Calvin goes off and does whatever he does. Training most days. Sometimes at home, sometimes with his trainer while Sam and I complete our lessons. When lunch rolls around, Calvin magically appears again. Not much is said at lunch. Once we’re done he goes to his bat cave, I mean his office and Sam and I usually head to the park. Which is exactly what happened today.