Liars' Games (Project Chameleon Book 1) (7 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

CLAIRE SHOWERED, GRADUALLY feeling the tightness in her muscles ease under the caress of warm water. She dried herself off, then wiped the steam from her bathroom mirror so she could survey herself. Slight bags under her eyes betrayed her lack of sleep and uneasiness. Not good on a normal work day, and more problematic today, Wednesday, when she wanted to make a good impression at her first Superintendent’s Round Table Luncheon meeting.

She
dabbed make-up on her face, and then blew-dry her shoulder-length golden-brown hair into a pile of natural curls. When she’d first entered the program, Brad had insisted she cut her waist-length hair, declaring that her extra-long hair made her stand out like a ‘palm tree in a pine forest’, and that was unacceptable for someone in witness protection. That was the first time he’d told her she needed to be a chameleon and blend-in. ‘You’re my responsibility,’ he’d said. ‘One of my chameleon projects, as I like to call them. I can teach you the ropes, but you’ve gotta be willing to learn and play the game.’ She sighed once again at the loss of her beautiful hair. Grabbing her straightening wand, she straightened her hair and then picked up her curling iron and began curling the ends at her shoulders. While doing so, she thought about her dilemma for the umpteenth time and again couldn’t decide which was worse: feeling like a fictitious character or feeling like an impostor principal. Probably not a lot of difference between the two.

Did
it really matter? She missed her old life, dearly missed teaching college students who truly wanted to learn, and most of all, she missed being happy.

Claire opened her wardrobe
, pushing aside her casual clothes, and selected a dark blue business suit and a light gray blouse from the back of her closet where she’d stowed them on her fourth day of work.

She grabbed
a pair of scissors from a drawer and cut-off the price tags, not because she was a shopaholic, but because she and her son had been whisked out of Albuquerque with nothing more than the clothes on their backs.

She shook her head.
Buying clothes used to be fun. Funny how that changes when you’re forced to shop, especially when you have no idea what to buy for a new identity and a new job. After her first day at Midland, she’d bought five more of these suits. Then, a couple days later, she’d overheard faculty whispering behind her back, saying things like ‘she looks all hoity-toity in her snooty suits’ or ‘she thinks she’s better than the rest of us’. And so back to the mall she’d gone. Of course she’d also had to go again to buy that black dress she’d worn when she went out to dinner with Steve.

T
he morning at school raced by. When she glanced at her watch and saw how late it was, Claire gasped. Being late for the meeting was something she couldn’t afford. She dashed out the building, jumped into her car, and sped to Cameron High School, arriving only five minutes before the round-table meeting was scheduled to begin.

She walked into the school and then stopped in her tracks. The difference between this school and hers was jaw dropping.
Cameron was like a fairy tale castle full of well-dressed students carrying books, looking eager to learn, while Midland was like Dracula’s castle full of dark and dangerous students who, for the most part, seemed to come to school to buy or sell drugs.

Sh
aking off her shock, she hunted for the conference room Steve had mentioned in the email. She found an empty chair at a ten-person conference table and sat down. Porcupine came by and handed each attendee a bag lunch, after which Steve opened the meeting. He started out with a few droll opening comments and then asked Porcupine—
oops, she must stop thinking of her as that, and use her name, Helen Jackson
—to read the minutes from the previous Round-Table Meeting. When she finished, Steve had everyone introduce themselves since this was Claire’s first meeting.

As they ate lunch, one high school principal after another gave verbal reports of issues, accomplishments, updates on items from the previous meeting, etc.

Some of the reports and discussions nearly put Claire to sleep, especially since she hadn’t fallen asleep until two o’clock in the morning because Marcus had been hyperactive. The last two reports had captured her full attention, though, because they had garnered criticism that seemed to her unwarranted.

The current speaker, Manuel Rodriguez, the principal of Cooper High School, was
reporting on their science fair competition that one of his school’s star students had won. The student’s project was to be featured on the local news tomorrow.

The Vice-President of the Board, Edward Malone,
who was a heavy-set man with salt and pepper hair, said, “That’s what we need to see. This district needs more star students and teachers. Good job, Manuel. Don’t you agree, John?”

While
John Richmond, the President of the Board, sipped his coffee and seemed to be pondering his answer, someone stood up and poured herself a fresh cup of coffee. Two people appeared to be checking for messages on their mobile phones, and another person was flipping through pages in a notebook.

Finally, John spoke. “An award, especially in a subject like science, is good. Don’t get me wrong
. It’s going to take more than one award, though, to increase the district’s ranking and its prestige in the community. This district’s image is well below par. Manuel and all of you need to push harder on your teachers and students.” He paused, and glanced at his iPad, then said, “Look at his school’s record on sports, for example. They’re near the bottom in every activity. What does that say about Manuel’s leadership?”

Claire watched Manuel, a middle-aged man in a well-worn suit, who sat across the table from her. His smile melted, and he loosened his necktie and wiped beads of perspiration off his forehead
.
That poor man.
She would talk to him after the meeting and let him know he had her support despite John’s unreasonableness. No doubt John wasn’t an educator and didn’t know how difficult the job was.

John Richmond was white-haired and bronze-skinned, in his sixties, Claire guessed. When he’d entered the room moments before the meeting began, she’d noticed him right away because he was at least six-foot-three, attractive, and distinguished looking. He reminded her of a former colleague, a professor she’d admired years ago, but after listening to his many condescending comments this morning, she found
nothing to admire.

“I have to disagree with you on that one, John,” Steve Jensen said. Today, he was all business, dressed in a crisp white dress shirt, striped black-white-gray tie, and a black business suit. “In the two years Manuel has been at Cooper, he’s done an excellent job encouraging students to stretch their minds
and participate in scholastic competitions. This isn’t the first win one of his students has achieved. And yes, the sports teams have had a rough patch, but aren’t academics our number one priority, John? Manuel’s one of our best leaders.”

Manuel’s face reddened, and then he glanced at Steve and smiled.

Steve nodded at Manuel and Claire held her breath, waiting for John’s reaction. When he didn’t respond, she breathed a sigh of relief for her fellow principal.

After another fifteen minutes of idle talk, she looked at her untouched coffee cup and debated whether to drink it. She’d already drunk two full cups
this morning at the school. Hmm. She glanced at her watch. Probably need the extra caffeine to get through this meeting without falling asleep. She took a sip of the hot liquid. It went down the wrong way, sending her into an uncontrollable coughing fit.

All eyes turned her way, and she felt her face grow hot.

“Are you all right?” Liz Olson, another principal, asked.

Claire’s eyes watered and she coughed one more time, then nodded.

“Ah, our newest principal,” John said. “I almost forgot about you. How could I have forgotten someone so lovely?”

Claire squirmed in her seat like a child caught doing something mischievous.

“We haven’t heard anything from you yet,” he said. “Do you have any school successes to tell us about?”

She set down her cup and cleared her throat. “I’ve only been here a fortnight. There’s not much to tell yet.”

“A fortnight?” He looked around the room at the other faces. “Who uses that word these days? Didn’t that go out of use at the turn of the century?”

“Well, actually, fortnight is simply a shortening of the longer ‘fourteen nights’
. It’s used often in many countries,” Claire said. Underneath the table she pinched herself for her mistake in using the British term for two weeks.
Must be more careful.

“Okay, I guess I stand corrected,” John said, with a little wink. He leaned back in his chair and put his hands on the back of his head. “You know, it seems to me like two weeks is plenty of time for you to enchant everyone at Midland with your charm and cleverness. You’re telling us you haven’t worked your magic yet?” He smiled and waited for her to respond.

What was his game? Was he flirting, or taunting. She couldn’t tell. “I guess it’s time for me to visit Ollivander’s Wand Shop in Diagon Alley. Maybe they’ll have something that will work.”

He squinted, and said, “Huh?”

Liz laughed. “It’s from the Harry Potter books, John.”

Several people chuckled, including John.

“Ah. I remember that now,” he said. “I saw one or two of the movies with my grandkids.” He turned his attention back to Claire. “You know, we were led to believe you were somewhat of a miracle worker, that you could snap your fingers and get anything you wanted. Were we misled?”

Surprised, Claire said,
“I don’t really know how to answer that.”

John shook his head, and Claire thought she heard a faint snicker from him.

“We’ll talk later, in private.” He straightened up, gave her one last look and then called on another principal.

An hour later
when the meeting adjourned, she started to leave along with everyone else, until John caught up with her and took her aside, waiting for the last to leave.

John said, “I let you off easy in the meeting. I had no choice. But I want to make something clear to you. We didn’t hire you for your
glowing abilities. You were forced on us. Apparently, you snapped your fingers and Senator Alan Reynolds gave you what you wanted.”

“Huh? What on earth are you talking about?”

“You’re Reynolds’s mistress.”

Her cheeks now felt like they were on fire. “I’m no one’s mistress.”

“That’s not what I was told.”

At that comment, alarm bells went off in Claire’s head. What had Brad and this senator done to get her this job? She bit her lip and squelched the expletive that came immediately to mind. “There must have been a misunderstanding. I’ve never even met Senator Reynolds.”

John shook his head.

“You can play it that way if you want, but you aren’t fooling anyone. We aren’t idiots. And this isn’t the first time I’ve been in this position, having to hand over a job to a man’s lover because she’s young and beautiful and knows how to manipulate a man into doing whatever she wants. It happens more often than most people think.”

She pressed her lips together and tried to hold in her anger, but words spilled out anyway. “How dare you. It wasn’t like that. Not at all. And besides, this job is certainly no prize.”

John leaned into her personal space. “If you don’t like it, we certainly don’t want to force you to stay. Say the word. We’ll gladly cancel your contract. Although the other board members aren’t here, I can assure you they’ll agree.”

She stared at him, wordless. She felt nonplussed, and for all her intelligence, she couldn’t think of anything to say to extricate herself. Even if she could, she couldn’t trust her voice.

“
You can muddle through for a while. We all know it’s only a matter of time before you fall on your face. That’s what happens when someone takes on a job they aren’t qualified for.” He paused and smirked, then added, “Oh, and don’t forget you have to take the PLACE test #80 for Principals required by the Colorado Department of Education and then complete the Alternative Principal Preparation Program. Helen Jackson told you about that, didn’t she? Imagine your lover’s disappointment, though, if it got out that his mistress couldn’t pass the test or the program or messed up in a job he’d recommended her for. Not good for his re-election campaign.”

Claire opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut. Now she understood why the school board had put her in the principal position. They wanted her to fail. And how could she fight back when she hadn’t even submitted a resume? According to Brad, she didn’t need one for this job, like she had for her previous jobs. His
superiors had taken care of everything—but without telling her what background information they’d given the school district.

She drew in a deep breath.
Relax. Don’t give the chauvinistic snake the satisfaction of seeing your distress. You can do it.
She wrapped the strap of her laptop bag over her shoulder, said “Nice to meet you as well”, then turned on her heels, and walked out the door without looking back.

On her drive home all Claire could think about was placing an emergency call to Brad Meyers. He had to move her again, move her into a situation where she stood a chance of making things work.
Her eyes began tearing-up, making it difficult to see. As she wiped at her eyes, she suddenly saw a car in front of her. She slammed on her brakes and barely avoided a crash. Her heart racing now and her hands shaking, she wiped her face and sat up straight. When she was calm enough to proceed, she planted her  hands firmly on the steering wheel and forced herself to concentrate on her driving until she pulled up to her condo complex.