Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Not everyone gets as lucky as I had when placed with a teacher for their student teaching. Jane Harmond had been teaching history for over thirty years. She loved her job, and she loved trying new things. Anything to get the kids attention away from their “gadgets,” as she would say, and focused on their learning. Jane had become my mentor and friend. Leaving her had been harder than leaving Malecon, and that said way more than I wanted to admit.
Walking up to the front entrance of the school, I hoped the office was easy to find. The e-mail hadn’t given me instructions on where it was located. Most people in Lawton had stepped foot in this building at one time in their life. Most, except me.
“You might be the last person I expected to see walking in those doors this morning,” Asa’s voice drawled, something so similar to what I was thinking it took me a moment to realize he was real and not in my imagination.
Turning around, I found Asa behind me with a pleased yet intrigued expression on his entirely-too-sexy face. This was not what I needed before I walked inside for my interview. Being professional was important. I wanted to make a good impression. Being all flushed from seeing Asa Griffith in a sleeveless white tank that was sweaty and sticking to his chiseled chest was not going to help me accomplish that.
I refused to let my gaze continue down his body, although I could tell he was wearing shorts of some kind. “Uh, yeah,” I stammered. “Good morning.” I had forgotten what it was he said to me. Dang him for looking like that. Why couldn’t he be less attractive? Life was not fair.
“Good morning,” he replied with an amused grin now playing on his lips. “You heading inside for some reason in particular?”
I glanced back over my shoulder. Telling Asa about my interview wouldn’t hurt. He wasn’t my parents, and he wouldn’t want to discuss it. This didn’t affect him. “Yeah, I have an interview. I should probably get going. Don’t want to be late.”
I could see that surprised him, but then Asa and I knew little about each other anymore. He had no idea what my degree was in or what my plans for my life had become. He only knew the unsure girl from five years ago. Just as I didn’t know what he had majored in and where he was going. All I knew was he hadn’t gone into the NFL.
“Good luck,” he finally said.
“Thanks,” I replied, then hurried to get inside the doors in case I couldn’t find the office, not once thinking I could have just asked Asa where it was. Neither of those things mattered, though. The signs were right there, and the office was steps away from the entrance. I paused and took a deep breath, regaining my composure and focus. Running my hands down the front of my skirt, I straightened the fabric, thankful it wasn’t the kind that wrinkled.
This was it. This would determine if I stayed in Lawton or if I found my new life somewhere else. No pressure, Ezmita, I whispered to myself, then made my way inside the office door.
A woman in her midfifties with red hair cut into a short bob looked up from the desk she was sitting at. Jewel-framed glasses were perched on her nose, and she had on bright red lipstick. When she smiled, some of the lipstick was on her teeth. “Good morning, you must be Ezmita Ramos.”
“Yes,” I replied.
She stood up and walked over to the counter separating us. “I’m Henrietta Horn. I work summers in the office and help out some during the school year too. Let me go tell Mrs. Campbell you are here,” she told me, then walked down a small hallway that I assumed led to offices behind her.
That had been easy enough. Henrietta had been pleasant. I glanced down at the folder in my hand and wondered if this was too much. Perhaps I should have mentioned it to Mrs. Campbell before just bringing this with me. No, I was overthinking things.
“Ezmita,” a voice said, and my head snapped up from the folder I was studying in my hand. A tall lady with platinum hair cut short above the ears stood where Henrietta had been earlier.
“Yes,” I replied.
The woman smiled then. “I’m Belinda Campbell, please come on through the opening just there and we will go back to my office and get to know each other,” she told me.
I did as she said, all the while wondering how someone could be so captivating and in command yet not raise their voice or speak in a tone that demanded it. Belinda Campbell had a talent. I felt as though if she snapped her fingers a line of people would come to attention.