Secret Regrets (Living For Today #2) (2 page)

“Hi, sweetheart, can I help you?” she happily asked me, setting the nail file to the side, her blue eyes twinkling over her rosy cheeks.

“Good morning, yes. Hi, I’m Rosalind. I am here for an interview with Principal Sullivan,” I replied softly, letting my nerves overtake me momentarily.

“Of course you are, Rosalind! Well, aren’t you just cute as a button. The kids will adore you! Come… come — I’ll take you back there. She is expecting you. My name is Becky, by the way,” the receptionist replied, standing up and walking around the desk to take me back into an office behind us. Her flowing colorful skirt made a whooshing sound as she swept past me, and her vanilla perfume left a trail for me to follow.

“Thank you, Becky, please call me Rose. How long have you been at Ingram?” I tried to make polite conversation as she led me away from the friendly handmade pictures of past students and back toward the more administrative part of the office that boasted past certificates of
A
-ratings and achievements that Ingram Elementary had accomplished.

“Oh gosh, I’ve been here for… what? Fifteen years now. I just love the students and their parents. It’s a great area. You will love it here,” she finished as she knocked on an open door to alert the woman sitting at the large wood desk.

“Yes Becky, what can I help you with?” A stern looking woman with short red hair and a sharp jawline asked while looking over the rims of her readers.

“I’ve got your morning interview for the teacher position, Ms. Sullivan,” Becky quickly answered.

“Perfect.” The principal stood to move toward the door as I stepped in.

Reaching my hand out to shake hers, I was met with a firm handshake from the petite woman dressed in a charcoal-grey pencil skirt and a blue blouse. She was all business and appeared to take her role of educating and molding the young minds of her school’s students very seriously.

“Come in, come in, Ms. Barnes. We received a letter of recommendation from your professor up at Florida State with a raving review of your hard work and dedication. He also sent the reports from your internship hours, and I must say I am impressed. You seemed to have really poured yourself into your studies up there in Tallahassee.” She motioned me to take a seat in the chairs in front of her desk.

“Yes, ma’am. When I moved to Tallahassee, I was determined to excel at school and avoided distractions as best as possible,” I confidently replied, feeling at ease.

We continued talking about what Principal Sullivan’s expectations were for teaching as well as the curriculum the school district used. An hour later, she was escorting me out to the main lobby where Becky was optimistically smiling at us, making me feel right at home. Coming to a stop, Principal Sullivan rested her hand on Becky’s desk.

“Becky, give Ms. Barnes a welcome packet for Ingram Elementary please,” she started with a friendly smile. “Ms. Barnes, while I am not officially offering you the job yet, I can tell you I feel like you would be a good fit here and want you to look through the information and consider on your own if you are a Mustang. I will be in touch with you by the end of the week.”

Waiting for the packet, I shook Ms. Sullivan’s hand and flashed a smile back at Becky as she quickly got the welcome packet together.

“Thank you so much for your time, and I look forward to hearing from you, Principal Sullivan.”

I felt like I was on cloud nine, hopped in my car, and pulled my phone from my purse to call Bryant. The phone rang four times and went to voicemail. I left a quick message saying that the interview went well and I’d see him at home. Feeling the negativity seep back in, I quickly dialed a person I knew would be just as elated with my news as I was.

“Hey, sexy! So how did the interview go?” Her bubbly voice rang through the phone.

“Amazingly! Can you dip out early and meet me for lunch now? I got a welcome packet to look through and want to tell you all about it!” I animatedly replied.

“Of course. It’s my parents’ office. I doubt they’ll miss me! Where are we meeting?”

We made plans to meet at the deli by her office. I started my car and pulled out of what I hoped would be my future place of employment. Smiling, I thought of how perfectly things were setting themselves up yet felt the nagging concern over the secrets I was keeping from Bryant. Lunch with the best friend was exactly what I needed!

CHAPTER THREE

I
SAT
AT THE DELI,
WAITING
on Leslie. I had already ordered both of us a Reuben sandwich and drinks. The Main Street Deli had been around since the dawn of time and was a cozy restaurant run by a husband and wife. The restaurant had been in Richard’s family since it opened and had been passed down generation by generation. The walls were decorated with old photos of the building before renovations and remodels that had made it bigger, as well as a few photos of historic areas of Tampa.

“Rose!” a voice I knew all too well squealed out from the doorway, no doubt gaining every single person in the restaurant’s attention. She weaved her way between the small wooden bistro tables until she got to the table I had picked, tucked back in the corner.

“Sorry, I know I’m a bit late. Did you order already?” she asked as she hung her purse on the chair and gracefully took her seat.

“Yep, I got us both our usual.” I winked. We’d been coming here for years and always gotten the same thing. I didn’t even go to the counter to order anymore. As soon as Richard or his wife Barbara saw me, they got a sandwich going. If Leslie were joining me, I’d flash two fingers to let them know to assemble another.

“I have been craving a Reuben. I’m so glad you suggested this place.” Leslie pulled the paper off her straw and stuck it in her water glass to take a sip. “So what’s up? You texted late last night, which means you have something on your mind.”

“I was anxious about my interview is all, and it went phenomenally! The principal, Mrs. Sullivan, is amazing — strict — but she cares for the kids so much. The receptionist has been there fifteen years and is happy, so that’s promising. She didn’t officially hire me, but got me a welcome packet to look over and said she’d be in touch by the end of the week.”

“No, Rose, that’s not it. I can see it in your eyes. I am thrilled your interview went well, but we promised no more regrets, which means no secrets. Spill it.”

I fidgeted with the straw wrapper she had discarded on the table, trying to prolong the conversation that I had initiated with a text. I knew the interrogator Leslie wouldn’t let it go.

“I had a nightmare. They are back,” I mumbled under my breath, hoping that brief response would satisfy her curiosity.

“So? What’s the big deal? I mean, it sucks, don’t get me wrong, but it’s probably just a stress reaction,” Leslie placated as Richard set our plates in front of us with a friendly smile.

I snatched a chip off my plate and chewed on it as I thought over why it was a big deal. Was I making it one by hiding it? “It scared Bryant,” I thought aloud.

“Well, I’m sure that Bryant hates you having to deal with it,” Leslie continued as she chewed on a chip of her own. “Wait a minute!” she exclaimed, holding the sandwich mid-air in front of her mouth.

I averted my gaze to avoid her intense scrutiny as she put the pieces of the puzzle together, “You haven’t told him still! Still! Rose, he needs to know. He deserves to know! Why haven’t you told him?”

Avoiding the inevitable when I confirmed her suspicion, I took a large bite of my sandwich and slowly chewed, watching as Leslie’s eyes narrowed in on me, willing me to give her the answers she was demanding.

Letting out a loud huff I continued, “No, I haven’t. I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t want him to look at me differently, and we’ve had so much to battle through… What if this is that last straw.”

Leslie’s expression changed slowly from irritation to sympathy. “You told Jordan. You didn’t even think about it with him.”

“That’s because my mom made him — aware. And with Jordan, it was different, you know that. Jordan is like my big personal security blanket, and he is easy on the eyes too,” I said, closing my eyes and envisioning his dynamic emerald-green eyes and warm caring smile looking at me, making a mental note to call him and see how the Navy was going for him.

Leslie’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Rose,” she began, reaching over and taking my hand. “You can’t hide this from him, and the longer you wait the harder it’s going to get. I understand not telling just anyone, but he is going to be your husband.”

Taking another bite of my sandwich, I hoped to put the conversation to a rest. I just didn’t want things to change. We were finally happy. And more than anything, we deserved to be happy after our past.

“So, what do we need to accomplish to get you married in two weeks?” I asked, falling back on my tried-and-true art of distraction.

Leslie raised an eyebrow at me, obviously knowing exactly what I was doing, but, as I’d known, couldn’t resist the turn of the conversation.

We spent the rest of lunch discussing to-do lists to accomplish in order to have the wedding of the year that had been postponed after my accident. Soon her lunch hour was up and I needed to get home to look through the welcome packet. We said good-bye and made plans to get together Friday to re-evaluate our lists for her wedding the following weekend.

I had pulled into the driveway at least ten minutes before, but instead of going in, I sat in the car, looking at the beautiful Craftsman home Bryant had welcomed me into. He had found it for me without knowing I’d ever return, and it was everything I’d ever dreamed of with its picturesque appearance, a flower garden I had planted over the summer edging the front porch, and a flag hanging from the column.

This
is
everything I’ve ever
wanted,
and when Bryant asked me to marry him,
not a single doubt crossed my mind.
I had lived the past four years with regrets and I would not waste a minute of my life with the what-ifs and could’ve-beens. I did not want to jeopardize everything and tell him, and I wasn’t sure I ever would.

The house was eerily quiet as I stepped in and set my purse down on the foyer table. I could smell the mouth-watering aroma of the pot roast I had simmering in the slow cooker for dinner. Deciding to take a quick peek, I lifted the lid and saw everything seemed to be coming along nicely. My phone lit up with a notification letting me know it was near dying. After plugging it into the charging station on the counter, I sent Bryant a quick text, asking when he’d be home so I could have dinner ready.

No reply came, and I hoped the silence was because he was busy with work and not still mad at me. My stomach clenched at the thought of a fight brewing between us. I went to our bedroom to change out of the dress into a comfy pair of yoga pants and a shirt. Coming back downstairs, I heard the front door close and could see Bryant setting his gear down.

Leaning against the wall as I stood on the landing, I watched him stand there a moment, shoulders slumped, before running a hand through his short brown hair and turning to lock the deadbolt. He looked exhausted, and I ached to close the gap and smooth away the wrinkles on his furrowed forehead I had seen. Turning around, Bryant started to tug his shirt hem from his pants. His chocolate eyes locked onto mine, making my heart break a little more at the space I had let come between us.

“Hey, honey. How was your day?” I asked as I stepped down and closer to him to place a soft kiss on his warm lips.

A breath of air whooshed out of his lips in a huff, and Bryant shook his head at me. “My day was long. Why was the front door unlocked with you upstairs?”

Biting my lip, I could see the irritation reflected in his eyes. “I didn’t even think about it. I came in and checked dinner and then just ran upstairs real quick. It’s not a big deal. It’s still daylight out.” I reached up to wrap my hands around his neck, trying to soften his disposition. “Go change your clothes and come relax a bit. I just need to make some yeast rolls, and then we can eat dinner,” I added, kissing him again before heading toward the kitchen.

I heard the TV turn on to ESPN, I felt at ease that our night could run like every other as Bryant settled in and caught up on the sports’ recaps. Wanting Bryant to relax and unwind, I grabbed a beer from the fridge and I walked out to the living room to help cheer him up. Delicately setting myself into his lap, I handed him the beer with a smile and saw the corners of his lips tilt up.

After sliding off him, I settled onto the cool leather couch to let him watch his recaps on the gigantic TV hung on the opposite wall.

Bryant bent down and scooped up my feet, pulling them onto his lap and turning me to face him. His hand worked its magic as he began massaging the soles of my feet with one hand as the other held his beer. He returned his attention to the television.

I wanted to keep our connection going, the carefree atmosphere, so I snatched the beer and took a long draw from his bottle, letting the cold barley flavored lager pour down my throat.

Bryant’s eyebrow raised as he gave me a shocked expression. “Did you just take my beer? The beer you brought me to butter me up in the first place?” he asked as he plucked the beer bottle from my hand and set it on the table beside the couch. The clink of glass to wood was like the starting signal for torture time.

In a flash, Bryant had me flipped underneath of him as he pinned me down, grasping me by my wrists and raising my hands above my head. While securing them with one hand, his other trailed delicately down my arm, making my skin tingle with awareness.

Continuing down, he traced each rib of mine as I lay stuck beneath him, squirming to get myself free. My cheeks ached from the smile plastered on my face.

Bryant’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he softly came to the crest of my hip before grabbing hold and anchoring me to him.

His head came down, and he softly kissed my nose, but despite his sensual touching, I saw in his eyes the devious mind that had a wicked plan.