“Good point.” Liese sipped her drink. In her post-hangover haze, his rejection had seemed to mean he didn’t want her, period. But when she considered the conversation they’d had before the bar fiasco, it made sense. “What the hell am I supposed to do? He’s telling me he wants to take me out again after being an asshole all week. Driving me home and not taking advantage of me doesn’t negate that.” Liese flopped back down on the couch.

  Marissa patted her shoulder. “If he wasn’t your boss, I’d tell you to play mind games with him, but for some reason I don’t think that would be the best idea.”

  While they drank, Liese filled Marissa in on some of the parts of the story she’d previously left out, particularly how the doctored photos were involved and how Ryder had managed to come across them.

  “The bondage ones were a joke—you know that, right? I didn’t honestly think you were into that kinky shit,” Marissa mused.

  “I think that’s the least of my problems right now.” Liese downed the rest of her cocktail.

  “I’ll let that go for now, but we’ll be returning to the subject, just so you know.” Marissa grabbed Liese’s empty glass and went to the kitchen. The small loft apartment made it easy to continue the conversation while she made more drinks. “I guess the question is, what do you want to do? Bear in mind, you have a horrible track record with men in general, particularly with clingers, and this guy is your boss until the end of the school year.”

  “I don’t know. Honestly, I have absolutely no idea what I should do. I know I shouldn’t want anything to do with him for a multitude of reasons, some of which you’ve just stated. It could damage both our careers if the wrong people found out. We can’t have a real relationship, at least not while we’re working at the same school. Besides, I’m pretty sure that’s not what he’s looking for anyway.”

  “I don’t get it,” Marissa countered. “Why would he want to risk being exposed by taking you out for dinner if he didn’t want a real relationship? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I don’t know. I’m so confused,” Liese groaned.

  “Think about it, though. If he didn’t want anything from you, do you really think he’d have followed you to the bar?” Marissa set the shaker down and leaned on the counter. “If he hadn’t asked you out for dinner, I might agree with you about him not wanting more or just wanting to check up on you. But I think this guy has it bad for you, and really, who wouldn’t? You’re a stellar lay, based on previous reports.”

  Liese sniffed. “Hardly.”

  “Don’t even.” Marissa picked up the shaker. “I can’t begin to tell you how much information Sean imparted after you broke up with him. And remember that guy Irving, or Ivan, or whatever his name was? He talked about how amazing you were in bed every damn time I ran into him. It was really annoying, and kind of gross. I bet Ryder is already addicted to riding you, and now he can’t get enough.”

  “You really love the play on words, don’t you?” Liese sent her a dirty look. “And how is rehashing my previous sexcapades helpful?”

  “I can’t resist the pun, but that’s beside the point. Look, you were obsessing over this guy before you even went to the interview, and when you came back, he was all you talked about. I’m not an idiot, and neither are you. Clearly you want this to go somewhere, even if you refuse to admit it.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I want. It can’t happen.”

  “Why not? If he wants to try to date you, and you want the same thing, it’s pretty much a go, isn’t it? I’m not getting what the issue is.” Marissa cracked the shaker and split the cocktail between two glasses. She topped Liese’s with ice and juice.

  “He’s my superior. Teachers have been cut out of the pool for things like this,” Liese explained, taking the highball.

  “The pool? What the hell does swimming have to do with anything?”

  “The teaching pool, not a real pool; it’s the substitute list.” Liese grew serious. “Another teacher lost out because she had an affair with her principal.”

  “Well, you’re a librarian, not a teacher, so that takes care of that, doesn’t it? Besides, doesn’t an affair imply one of them is married?”

  “You’re splitting hairs. It’s that they were involved with each other that’s the problem.”

  “I don’t think so. The point is, you’re both adults who are capable of making adult decisions. Talk it out if you want to, ignore him if you don’t. Either way, you’ll figure it out.” She grinned. “Now I want to hear about your bondage fetish.”

  Liese felt her cheeks heat. “I don’t have a bondage fetish.”

  “Right. So did he tie you up or what?”

  Several cocktails, a deep dish pizza, and a few overly informative conversations later, they called a cab, ready for a night out on the town. Liese hadn’t been to a nightclub since her move to Fullerton, and it wasn’t usually a scene she missed. Tonight, however, she wanted to cut loose and forget about her problems.

  Unfortunately, after one Cosmotini, a Sean-spotting forced Liese to drag Marissa away from a flirty, well-dressed business man.

  “Sean’s here,” she shouted in her friend’s ear. Surveying the club, she tried to locate him in the crowd again before he could find her.

  “What?” Marissa scanned the room. “Does that guy have a tracking device on your phone or something?” Business Guy tried to reclaim her attention, but she ignored him and continued to search the throng of clubbers for Sean.

  “Liese! Hey, Liese!” Sean’s shrill voice rang out over the pounding music.

  “Oh, no.” She could see her panic reflected in Marissa’s eyes. Judging by the volume, he was close.

  “Just pretend you can’t hear him.” Marissa squeezed her shoulder.

  “He sounds like he has a megaphone.”

  “He does.”

  “Really?” Liese turned around to find him right behind her, sans megaphone.

  “Liese!” he yelled in her face, grabbing her arms. He yanked, and she stumbled into him.

  “Sean!”

  He wrapped her in his arms, giving her a tight hug while he pressed his face into her hair and said something indecipherable. When he pulled back he ran his hands up and down her arms, looking her over.

  “God, you look amazing. How have you been? I’ve missed you.”

  “I’m good,” she replied slowly, desperate to extricate herself so she could run screaming from the club.

  “I just . . . God, it’s so good to see you again. I saw your car parked in front of your old apartment building. I thought I might find you here. It’s like we’re connected, you know?” He pounded on his chest, much like a gorilla. “I could feel you close by, and I needed to see you.” His eyes were wide and frantic as they bounced over her face. He gripped her far more firmly than was comfortable.

  Liese gently pried his talon-like fingers from her waist. “I, uh . . . I didn’t expect to see you at all.”

  “Hey, Sean, you creepy stalking asshole, why am I not surprised to see you here?” Marissa said loudly enough that several people turned to look at them.

  “I’m not stalking Liese.”

  Marissa slipped between them, acting as a shield. “Right, because all the phone calls and texts and dropping by our apartment just so you can sniff her old pillows or whatever it is you want to do isn’t considered stalking.” Marissa grabbed Liese’s hand and backed away from Sean. “Anyway, it’s been a slice, but we have a restraining order to file, and it would be in your best interest not to bother escorting us out.”

  Marissa spun and shoved the guy next to her. He turned, looking angry, and she pointed behind her to Sean as she seized Liese’s wrist and dragged her through the crowd. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed Marissa’s ploy had worked. The guy she’d shoved was in Sean’s face. Liese didn’t see what happened next as the crowd swallowed them up, and she and Marissa burst out of the club into the cold, blustery wind of the city street.

  “Honestly, that guy is psychotic.” Marissa hailed a cab and dove inside, hauling Liese after her. “He practically camped outside the building for the first two weeks after you moved.”

  “You should have told me.” Liese chewed her fingernail as she studied her friend.

  “Why? So you could worry more?”

  Liese dropped her hands to her lap, clasping them tightly so she wouldn’t ruin all her nails.

  Marissa sighed. “Well, I really hope Ryder isn’t a psychotic stalker. It’s going to be awfully challenging for me to be your bodyguard when I’m more than two hours away. Also, I have no immediate plans to move to Fullerton.”

  “He’s not a stalker, or psychotic.”

  “He better not mess with your head, or I’ll send Sean after him,” Marissa joked, although she looked serious.

  Morning brought a hankering for greasy breakfast food. They drove in separate cars to a diner half an hour outside the city to avoid any further run-ins with Sean.

  Afterward, Marissa walked Liese back to her car. “I’ll be down to visit soon, okay?” she promised.

  “We’ll make a plan,” Liese agreed, getting into her car.

  “I expect to hear an update as soon as you’ve made up with Ryder.”

  “If I make out with him.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Marissa laughed.

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Don’t even try, Freudian slip. Call me when you get home, okay?”

  “Promise.” Liese gave her a Girl Scout salute and pulled out of the parking lot toward the freeway.

  She wished she knew what to do about Ryder. Regardless of how good it would feel to be with him again, it was too dangerous to want because it wouldn’t stop there. Marissa was right. Liese wanted more than a bed partner, and if he wanted the same, then what? What if it didn’t work out? What if someone important found out and their relationship became public? Even as consenting adults, most of her colleagues wouldn’t look favorably on her. People would think she was trying sleep her way to the top, and Ryder would look like he was taking advantage of her.

  More than that, his actions over the past week had made her cautious. She would be better off without more drama in her life. Whatever his intentions had been, she’d had enough bad relationships; she didn’t need another.

  So tomorrow she would talk to Ryder. Despite the heavy feeling it left in her stomach, perhaps it would be best if they didn’t see each other in anything but a professional capacity.

  Once home, Liese let Marissa know she’d arrived safely and then turned off her phone. She didn’t want to field another call from Sean or continue to stew over the fact that Ryder hadn’t checked on her over the weekend. Exhausted, she went to bed early but still felt emotionally spent when she woke Monday morning.

  Unable to stomach anything solid, Liese blended a fruit shake and left for FAHL a half-hour earlier than usual. She wanted to speak with Ryder about keeping things strictly professional so she wouldn’t feel like puking for the entire day.

  The parking lot was practically empty when she pulled in, with Ryder’s Lexus nowhere to be seen. She bypassed the main office. If Ryder hadn’t arrived yet, she had no reason to stop in apart from picking up her mail, which she could do later. She hadn’t been in the library two minutes when someone knocked on her door. Logic told her it couldn’t be Ryder; he’d go to his office before he came to her.

  “Come in,” she called, her voice wavering.

  Blake stuck his head in. “Hey, you’re here early.”

  “I wanted to get a jump on things.” She motioned to the stack of boxes beside her desk. “How was your weekend?” Liese smiled, assuming an air of calm, though she was too edgy about talking to Ryder to be very social. She had a vague, nagging memory that part of her conversation with him on Friday night had revolved around the man currently occupying her office doorway.

  “It was okay. Friday night was the most exciting part, I’m afraid. Speaking of which, how was the ride home with Whitehall? We all felt horrible for you, but he was kind of pushy about it. That guy never takes a break from being a dictator.”

  Liese threw him a withering glare.

  “Sorry, my mistake. I mean administrator.” His smile smacked of insincerity.

  “I made it out alive.” She wished she knew how she’d ended up in Ryder’s car, but everything after her third martini blurred together. A two-drink limit would be instated from now on when out with colleagues. And no doubles.

  “That bad, huh?” Blake put his arm around her shoulder in a sympathetic hug. “I would’ve let you crash at my place if he hadn’t been such a dick about it.”

  “It was fine. He didn’t even make me cry.” It should’ve been a joke, but for some reason Liese felt like it might be a lie.

  “I’d solicit a student to egg his car if he did,” Blake replied.

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Probably not, no. But it’s fun to pretend, don’t you think?” He hung around and chatted until his bucket of coffee was empty. “Well, I need a refill before class, and I should probably get ready for first period. I just wanted to see for myself that you’d escaped the clutches of our dreaded headmaster.”

  “Overdramatic much?”

  “Never. I figured you could hold your own. Lunch in the staff room? You know the girls will be dying to hear the details about your excursion now that they’re all sympathetic to Whitehall’s plight.”

  “Um, possibly? It depends on whether I can get my final proposal for the reading group together by the end of the morning and stock the shipment of books that just came in.” Liese glanced again at the boxes beside her desk, which had arrived Friday afternoon.

  “Oh, okay. If I don’t see you at lunch I’ll save you a seat at the staff meeting.” Blake rushed off as the first bell rang, signaling five minutes until class.

  Liese slumped back in her chair; she’d completely forgotten about the staff meeting. The thought of having to sit through a meeting led by Ryder while surrounded by her colleagues made her want to vomit. On the up side, at least she knew he’d be at work sometime today.

  But he wasn’t in all morning, and when he finally did arrive, he stayed behind closed doors with the school security officers for the remainder of the day. According to Betty, he was dealing with a student issue from the previous week.

  Liese thought she might need a Valium by the time she heard the final bell. Her office phone rang as she was about to go to the lounge for the staff meeting. Ryder’s name showed up on the digital screen. She let it ring so many times it went to voicemail. Five seconds later, it rang again, and Liese dove for the receiver.

  “Liese Harper, Library Resource Center, how may I help you?” she exhaled breathily into the phone.

  “Christ,” Ryder muttered. “Do you answer the phone like that for everyone?”

  “Um, yes,” Liese replied, in the same breathy voice.

  “I’d like you to stop doing that, please.” He sounded irritated, which annoyed her.

  “Pardon? What’s wrong with the way I answer the phone?”

  “Nothing. Never mind. I just . . . you sound . . . I wanted to talk to you about your decision.”

  “My decision on what, exactly?” She really had no idea at this point.

  “Your decision regarding our conversation Friday evening.” He paused and sighed into the receiver. “Which you probably don’t recall.”

  “Not really,” Liese hedged.

  The PA system crackled, and Betty’s voice filtered through the building, “The staff meeting will begin in the lounge in five minutes.”

  “Damn it,” Ryder said. “We’ll have to talk later.”

  The line went dead. She willed her brain to give up something—any recollection from Friday to help her figure out what kind of decision she was supposed to have made—but her mind remained blank. Ryder’s call made her question the decision she had made about keeping things professional between them. She grabbed her coffee mug, a pen, a notebook, and a piece of gum and trudged to the staff meeting.

  When she arrived, Blake sat with Emily and Janet close to the back of the room; the two women were deep in conversation, whispering back and forth with a magazine spread open between them. Liese peeked over, curious. It was an article on the do’s and don’ts of inter-office dating, the number one no-no being getting involved with one’s boss. She looked away quickly. He patted the spot beside him. “Hey, saved you a seat.”

  “Thanks.” Liese slid into the uncomfortable plastic chair.

  “We missed you at lunch.” Blake appraised her, unsettling her further.

  At the front of the room, Ryder cleared his throat and saved her from making an excuse for her absence. The staff lapsed into silence. Compelled to look at him, she lifted her gaze forward. Ryder stared directly at her, his expression stormy. Liese commenced leafing through her notebook.

  She shifted forward, pulling her seat closer to the table, and Blake’s arm dropped from the back of her chair. Now she understood why Ryder looked so worked up. Even if Blake’s actions were more accidental than intentional, she wanted to smack him for making the situation worse. A few seconds later, Blake kicked her ankle, but she shook her head without looking at him, the universal signal for “not now.” Thankfully, he let it go. Liese grabbed her pen and jotted senseless notes to keep her hands busy. It didn’t work. Her mind kept wandering.

  “Ms. Harper.” Ryder cleared his throat.

  “Sir?”

  His eyes flashed briefly. “I thought you had a question, my mistake.”

  Liese realized she’d been twirling a piece of hair around her finger. She’d also been staring at Ryder’s crotch. She felt as transparent as a jellyfish—except her emotions were on display for everyone to see rather than her insides.

  Ryder sped through the agenda, his tension palpable, at least to Liese. He seemed to stiffen each time he looked over at her and her comrades. His physical response sparked her guilt—a sort of panic merged with an unsettling need to fix things between them, even though he’d been the one to screw things up. In spite of knowing what would probably be wisest, considering the situation, Liese found herself more uncertain about how to handle Ryder than ever.