Playing at Love Page 2

  Walker said, “The board discovered a major issue with the budget.”

  Jack moved his eyes back to Delgado, who was nodding in a “See, I told ya, buddy” manner.

  “It’s completely unfair,” Walker continued, thrusting another hand through his hair, “but the board feels we’re in need of a drastic quick fix. And with the economy the way it is, we’re all going to have to cut back and make sacrifices.”

  Jack’s head snapped to attention. Cut back? What sacrifices? Jack hadn’t been told about cutbacks when he was hired six weeks ago.

  The murmurs around him were growing louder and more agitated. Jack kept his eyes glued on Walker.

  “We’ve run the numbers,” Walker added, “and we’re finding the only way to not have major staff layoffs next year is to cut something large out of the budget. Unfortunately, a difficult choice will have to be made very soon.” Walker adjusted his glasses, but his pause went on longer than necessary, causing Jack to lean forward in his seat.

  “So,” Walker finally said, “we’ve decided that one of the major extracurricular programs has to be cut. Last night, we narrowed it down to a choice between two.”

  Jack heard the word in his head before Walker spoke it.

  “Football…”

  Jack felt his temper flare. He’d had five job offers; none of the other schools were having budget issues. He’d chosen this school over the others because of its high ethical standards and its long-standing tradition in athletics. True, the football team had been in a slump for a few years, but that was why he’d been brought in. He was thought of as an up-and-comer, and he was promised time to build a solid team.

  Besides that, Jack needed this job. Badly. His house back in Chicago hadn’t sold yet, so he was currently paying two mortgages. Pretty steep on a high school coach’s salary. Plus, there was the tiny, insignificant fact of Jenna living so close by. His daughter was the real reason he’d chosen this school. And with the new custody hearing coming up in a few months, he could not be out of a job. No way.

  And now the football team was on the chopping block? Dammit.

  Jack was on his feet before he’d realized it. “You’re telling me we could lose football? That my whole coaching staff could be out on the street, just like that?”

  “We don’t know that yet, Coach Marshall,” Walker said. Jack noticed that his boss was standing straight for the first time, probably wanting to take control of the meeting before things got out of hand. “We want to be fair,” he added.

  “Fair?” Jack couldn’t help repeating. He was trying to control his anger; he was the newest member of the faculty and didn’t want to come across as an instigator. But this was his livelihood they were talking about. His future.

  Delgado rose to his feet. “Yeah, fair?” he echoed. Jack looked at him, wondering if he also coached track or maybe volleyball. He didn’t care, as long as he had comrades.

  “Yes, fair,” Walker confirmed, setting down his stack of papers and crossing his arms. “The school board has made its decision and I support them. We know if one of the large programs goes, then all the others will be covered.”

  Jack nodded, accepting this logic. After all, he was a coach, not an accountant. “Okay,” Jack conceded. “So, besides football, what other program could be cut instead?”

  “Choir,” Walker said.

  Jack noticed that the murmurs around the room started up again, maybe a bit louder this time. But he could only shake his head. He couldn’t believe it. Choir? It was almost a joke.

  “The board didn’t vote on which program, however,” Walker said, talking over the murmuring crowd. “That’s up to us.”

  Jack couldn’t help laughing. “This is the Midwest.” He motioned for the other teachers around him to agree. “Football is king.”

  “Yeah, you know it, Coach,” Delgado said, and that same sentiment was repeated a few more times throughout the room.

  Feeling encouraged by the approval around him, Jack kept going. “Are you seriously comparing the legacy this school has on the football field to a glee club?”

  “Glee club?”

  Jack turned his head toward the new voice and watched as the woman at the end of his row—the woman he had been eyeing only minutes ago—stood up.

  “This school’s show choir has participated in music festivals all over the country for years,” she said. “And won. We’re the legacy.”

  Jack was speechless as he watched her glaring at him from across the room, her hands placed on her curvy hips. This was not how he thought their first conversation would go.

  “And if you think those of us in the arts are going to sit back and let a bunch of jocks steal our funding”—she pointed at him—“you’d better think again.”

  “Tell ’em, Tess,” Jack heard the blond teacher whisper to her.

  Walker lifted his hands. “Thank you for your thoughts, Ms. Johansson.”

  Jack’s head snapped to the side. And he stared, as if he were seeing a ghost.

  When Franklin High had first headhunted him over the summer after last year’s championship, the name of the town automatically rang a bell in his head. Ha! More like fire alarms. He knew this was the exact small town where Tess Johansson had lived—that tan, perky, incredible girl he’d spent the summer before his sophomore year with. And then, at the end of that amazing time together, the night before both families were leaving, he’d made a terrible mistake. Something he still felt guilty about all these years later.

  Not in a million years did he think she would still live here, work here, at the same high school she’d once attended. He cursed himself for not taking two seconds to glance through the teachers’ roster when it arrived last night. At least then he might have been prepared, he might’ve planned out what to say to her.

  But before he could say anything now, ten more teachers were on their feet, fighting for their voices to be heard. Then another ten were up. Soon the entire room was vocal. It didn’t take long to see that everyone was taking sides, splitting the staff right down the middle.

  “Hold on, hold on!” Walker shouted over the noise. “No one’s cutting anything today. Sit down.” Taking back control, he didn’t speak until everyone was quiet.

  Still feeling stunned, Jack turned back to Walker.

  “I made the board promise to give us this semester to decide which program stays and which goes,” Walker said. “They feel that is sufficient time to prove your worth.” Walker took off his glasses. “Until then, do what you have to do.”

  As Walker stepped away from the lectern, the room once again erupted in buzzes of conversation. Instinctively, Jack turned his head to the right to find Tess Johansson staring at him. Her arms were folded across her chest, a condemning look in those big blue eyes. He hadn’t seen her since they were teenagers, but if he’d been paying closer attention, he probably would have recognized her. She looked much better now, of course—she was a woman. Tall and stylish and curvy. But she still had that long brown hair that curled at the ends, and those lips. He’d fallen for those candy-glossed lips fifteen years ago and today they were painted a luscious raspberry.

  “Coach,” Walker said as he passed by Jack. “In my office.” He pointed at Tess next. “You, too. Now.”

  Chapter Two

  Tess could feel her heart pounding as she gathered her things to follow Walker to his office. If she’d had time to properly consider where her rage should be directed, she would’ve probably decided that it should have been aimed at the school board or the budget committee or even at Walker. But all she could feel was betrayal toward one person:

  Jack Marshall.

  Was it coincidental that the moment he came strolling back into her life—all hunky and magnetic like when they were fifteen—her whole world fell apart?

  “Whoa, this sucks,” Mac said to her. “If music goes, will my debate team be next? And then what? Shakespeare?” She turned around to gather up her own bags. “Hey,” she whispered. “Tony Rom
o at ten o’clock. Headed this way.”

  “His name’s not Tony,” Tess hissed through her teeth. “It’s Jackson Alexander Marshall.”

  Mackenzie stared at her friend and then at the man striding right toward them. “Holy crap,” Mac whispered. “You mean it’s…him?”

  “Yep.” Tess’s heart was pounding harder. “In the flesh.”

  He probably heard that last sentence because Jack Marshall was now standing right before Tess, looking all tall and charming and even more handsome close-up. His cologne smelled of sunshine and early morning and, well, man. For just a moment, Tess couldn’t breathe.

  How in the world had she not recognized him earlier? He kind of did resemble Tony Romo. He was certainly built like the famous Dallas Cowboys quarterback who’d dated a bunch of celebrities and then married a model.

  “Tess?” Though it came out as a question, it was pretty obvious, by the way he’d walked directly over to her, that he knew exactly who she was. Tess wondered if he’d known even when he’d been making eyes at her from across the room.

  “Hello, Jack,” she said.

  He smiled. It was a nice smile. Warm. Familiar. “It’s been a long time,” he said. “You look—”

  “Hi!” Mac cut in. “I’m Mackenzie Simms. Speech and debate.”

  “Hi,” Jack said and then turned to extend his hand to shake Mac’s. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Welcome to Franklin High,” Mac continued, probably sensing the tension between Tess and the new coach. “Go Grizzlies! Except—umm, maybe not at the moment. Tess, I gotta go open my classroom. I’ll see you at lunch.” She gave her friend a quick glance before leaving the room.

  Tess pressed her lips together and looked at Jack.

  “How have you been?” he asked.

  Tess couldn’t help laughing at the question. “How have I been?” She tossed her hair. “Well, let’s see, I graduated from Franklin High about a million years ago and now I work here. That is, until all the good ol’ boys rally around the football team and push me and my program out the door.”

  Jack’s steady eye contact didn’t waver. “I had no idea this was Walker’s plan,” he said. “I’m hearing about it for the first time, too.”

  “Yeah, sure.” She grabbed her bag. “Joe is waiting for us. You coming?”

  Jack nodded and Tess turned on her heel, doing her best not to display her distress as she walked in front of him all the way to the administration building and Walker’s office. Joe was sitting behind his neat desk when they entered.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said, motioning to two chairs.

  Tess looked at Jack, who gestured for her to sit first, even going so far as to hold the back of her chair. She sat and crossed her legs, careful to keep the slit in her skirt from sliding open again. She didn’t want to accidentally flash Jack Marshall any skin. The summer they’d been together, obviously he had seen more than just the top of her thigh…

  But things were different now.

  “Seriously, Joe,” Tess said, leaning forward in her seat. “What’s going on?”

  “The school is in real trouble,” Joe replied. “Garcia was in office for five years and he completely wiped out the operating reserve.”

  “Wiped out? What do you mean?”

  “I mean he’ll probably go to prison. It’ll be on the news tomorrow. But that’s no longer our problem. We have to make huge changes, and I’m sorry, but your two programs are the most expensive.”

  Without having to actually turn toward him, Tess noticed that Jack’s hands were gripping the armrests. Maybe this was a surprise for him, after all.

  “Joe,” Jack said. “You came to me. You brought me here to turn this team around.”

  Tess rolled her eyes. So, evidently Joe was partial to football, too. Great. Arrogant gorillas.

  “I know,” Joe admitted. “But game attendance has been down, the team hasn’t been over five hundred in years, and because of all the head injuries sustained last season, our liability insurance is through the roof. Having a team for the sake of having a team is not going to cut it. Not anymore.”

  Tess turned to Jack and tried really hard not to grin.

  “As for music…”

  Her grinning impulse quickly tanked as she turned back to her boss.

  “The whole town has enjoyed the success you’ve had with your show choir over the last few years. But it’s an incredible expense. The sets and costumes, not to mention the travel—the trip you took to Florida for the championship last year cost more than replacing the football field’s turf over the summer.” He turned to Jack. “Which we did not have the money for, come to find out. So we’re already in the hole because of that.”

  Joe ran a hand down his face, looking like he hadn’t slept all night. Tess couldn’t help feeling for him, for the amount of pressure he must be under. But she wasn’t about to lose her program. She’d always heard that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, so maybe she needed to play nice and get on Walker’s good side.

  “Okay, Joe,” she said, placing her palms on his desk. “Let’s fix this. Together. What do you propose we do?”

  …

  Oh, she was good. Jack could already tell.

  The way she was leaning forward. She wasn’t flirting with Walker—no, nothing as unprofessional as that. She was just, well, captivating. Even Jack felt himself wanting to help her, wanting to give her whatever she needed. And he was certain their boss felt the same way. Jack knew he had to get in front of this moving train before he was left in the dust.

  “Yes,” Jack quickly agreed. “What’s the fair way to handle this?”

  Walker leaned his elbows on the desk, steepling his hands. “All right, let’s get down to it. My number one priority is the budget. Frankly, one of you will have to go.” He looked at Tess when she started to rebut and held up his hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll hear from both of you in a minute.”

  Tess closed her mouth and sat back. Jack exhaled, relieved that Joe Walker was obviously not playing favorites.

  “As I was saying.” Walker shifted in his swivel chair. “Neither football nor show choir is a moneymaker in the true sense of the word. The choir does plenty of fund-raisers to earn money for trips, but none of that goes back into the school. The same with football: the boosters and ticket sales bring in money that goes straight to the program. So I don’t want the two of you to get the idea that enough car washes or bake sales will save you.” Walker took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And further, we live in a tight-knit community. Parents will want to get involved, probably thinking that if every taxpayer contributes fifty dollars, the problem will be solved.” He ran a hand over his mouth. “That won’t help. Not really. In fact, it might make it worse, especially when the time comes to make the cut. So I do not want this to turn into a competition.”

  Jack almost laughed at this. Wasn’t everything in life a competition?

  “This school is going to be under a microscope as it is,” Walker said. “The board gave me until the end of the semester, but in order to make a smooth transition and actually have a proper and fitting end to whichever program gets cut, I want to make the decision much earlier—by November at the latest.”

  “November?” Tess protested passionately. “You cannot be serious!”

  Jack was glad it was she who exploded first. It gave him a moment to rein in his own anger. He was clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth so hard that he was sure Tess could hear it.

  “That’s what’s happening,” Walker replied calmly. Then, turning to Jack, he said, “In that time, the football team is scheduled to play six games, culminating with homecoming at the end of October. At a bare minimum, Coach, I won’t consider saving your team unless you win at least four of those.”

  Jack unclenched his teeth, rubbed his jaw, and thought. He appreciated how Walker had called the team “his.” What he did not appreciate was being given a time limit of just under two months—six ga
mes to prove what his program was worth.

  Anyone else in his shoes might have considered such a feat impossible, but not Jack. He considered it a challenge, a challenge that he would win.

  “Deal,” Jack said.

  He turned to look at Tess, who was sitting ramrod straight, her hands on her knee, right over the slit in her skirt. He’d seen her in a bathing suit every day the summer they’d met, but she hadn’t had legs like those back then.

  He noticed that she was digging her fingernails into her palms. She was worried. She used to do the same thing when they would watch a scary movie together. When a suspenseful scene started to get to her, she used to ball up her fists and tuck them into her sides. It wasn’t long after that he would put an arm around her. Jack couldn’t help feeling nostalgic as he looked at her profile, remembering all the horror movies he’d purposefully rented that summer, just to get close to her. He had to fight the overwhelming desire to put his arm around her now and tell her it would be all right.

  “The show choir,” Walker said, snapping Jack back to the present. He noticed Tess leaning forward in attention. “You have a regional competition around the same time, right?”

  “Yes.” Tess nodded. “Regionals in Indianapolis is the same night as the homecoming game here.”

  “First place, Tess.” Walker crossed his arms. “No other option.”

  Jack couldn’t help noticing that there was a very subtle twinkle in her blue eyes. Perhaps she liked a good challenge, too.

  “Done,” Tess said firmly.

  After that, no one moved for a few moments, but the atmosphere in the room was tense. Jack thought it felt as though the gauntlet had been thrown down and they were each constructing their plan of attack.

  Joe finally said, “So we’ll go from there. Basically, whichever program is the most successful gets to stay. You win games, you win at Regionals. End of story.”