Drunk and Disorderly (Love in the City Short) Read online

  That’s where I find myself now, driving down the highway on the outskirts of my hometown, remnants of me left behind in a posh gated community in Atlanta.

  It’s time for me to put Coop and our time together out of my mind. Erase it from my memory. Instead, I’ll focus on what’s next—facing my parents with their twenty million questions about how my interview went. I avoided conversations with them about it over the last few days, telling them via text that it went all right and I’d give them the run down when I got home.

  Well, now’s the time as I see my mother’s car sitting in the driveway. I collect my bags and head inside girding myself in preparation for her grilling. She means well, but I think she’s ready for me to truly leave the nest, get out on my own. You know how much I want that too. It’s my constant hope.

  Chapter 7

  Another Wednesday rolls around. It’s been a week since my disastrous interview and I haven’t heard squat, not even a peep after writing a thank you note and emailing Mr. Reynolds. Not a good sign at all.

  I’m scouring the Internet for new teaching postings when my phone rings. It’s an Atlanta number and I’m thinking Mr. Reynolds or his assistant, Mrs. Peterson, is calling to tell me the bad news.

  “Hello,” I answer with absolutely no enthusiasm in my voice.

  “Is this Ms. Montgomery?” Yep, it’s Mr. Reynolds. Here we go…

  “Yes, this is she.” Southern manners die hard.

  “Ms. Montgomery, This is Mr. Reynolds. I’m sorry that it has taken me a week to get back in touch with you. But we have finally come to a decision.” I hold my breath, preparing for the worst. “And I’d like to offer you the position of art teacher at Peachtree High School.”

  After hearing those words, I’m transported somewhere else. Another planet? Jupiter or Mars perhaps? His offer is totally unexpected.

  “Wait,” I bring myself back down to planet Earth. “You’re offering the position to me?”

  “Absolutely. We are very excited to have you here with us a Peachtree. As a matter of fact, I need you to come back to Atlanta as soon as possible. If you decide to take the position that is.”

  Decide to take the position? You’ve got to be kidding me; of course I’ll take it. Sweet Mr. Reynolds doesn’t have a clue how my last shred of hope was long gone, likely sailing on a boat to the Bahamas.

  “I’d love to teach at Peachtree. And getting back quickly to Atlanta isn’t a problem at all. When do you need me?”

  “I’m so pleased that you can join our faculty here. And I hate to ask this of you on such short notice, but something you said in the interview has me thinking.”

  He pauses and I wonder what the hell he’s leading into. I made up a lot of things in the interview and the thought is making my palms start to sweat. You know that old saying, “Chickens coming home to roost.”

  “I remember you talking about bringing athletes and artists together.” At least this part in the interview was true. “Well, one of our parents was chairing a fundraiser for the football team. However, her mother has taken ill. Sudden thing. And we need your help.” He stops, waiting for my response. And being eager and excited, I jump right on it.

  “Of course! I’d be glad to help in any way that I can.”

  “Thank you. I was hoping you‘d say that. It’s a Casino Night. Off-site too. No students. We have a new football coach here who’s also going to be helping. Just got off the phone with him.”

  I’d like you both to be the master of ceremonies at the event then divide the proceeds amongst the art department and the football boosters. Everyone’s on board with the idea here. You two will be the face of the event.”

  “Wow, I think this is a great idea. When do you need me there?” The wheels in my brain are already starting to churn with ideas of what I can have art students do with a little extra money.

  “The event is this Saturday. Short notice I know, but if you could possibly drive to Atlanta tonight and meet with me in the morning. The football coach is coming in at nine.”

  “I can definitely be there. No problems at all.” Thank God, Priscilla is in Atlanta right now.

  “Great. I think you and this new coach will get a long fine. He’s rather a big star around here. Maybe you’ve heard of him, Andrew Cooper?”

  That’s right, the one and only Andrew Cooper. Better known as Coop. I don’t really remember the rest of my conversation with Mr. Reynolds. I have the important things down, though. I got the teaching job. I need to be at Peachtree tomorrow morning. And lastly, Coop is the new football coach.

  Kill me now!

  When I’m a little more coherent and stop shaking, I give Priscilla a call. She needs to talk me down off the ledge here. I’m perched atop a thirty-story building fearing that I’m going to be pushed to my death.

  “Hey, Millie. I’ve been waiting for your call.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes, I have some inside sources remember. I teach at Peachtree.” She’s laughing, but I’m still dying.

  “Right, well I got the job.” My voice is flat.

  “I know. I found out the other woman they interviewed was leaving her position due to personal misconduct. Or more commonly know as having an affair with a married teacher.”

  “I knew there had to be a reason I got the job over her.”

  “What’s wrong with you, Millie?” She seems concerned. “I thought you’d be going crazy.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the new football coach that was hired today at Peachtree. Andrew Cooper. Ring any bells?”

  “No shit.” She seems shocked too. “How did you find that out before me?”

  “Mr. Reynolds informed me that Coop and I are needed to work together on a fundraiser this weekend for the football booster program. A casino night. We’re headlining the event.”

  “This is bad on so many levels. What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. But I feel sick at the thought of seeing Coop again let alone working with him on something. It’s turned my dream of getting this job into a nightmare.”

  “It’s unbelievable. What are the odds?” Priscilla knows me better than to ask that question.

  “Me and Murphy have been friends all my life.” That’s Murphy’s Law in case there was a question.

  “Funny, Millie,” she retorts.

  “If it’s okay, I’m heading to Atlanta tonight. Mr. Reynolds wants me in his office at nine tomorrow morning.”

  “Wow, that’s quick. But I don’t have any big plans tonight, so come on in. I think I’ll run by the liquor store too. We may need a few drinks to help us strategize for tomorrow.”

  “Thanks so much. I need to go tell my parents what’s up. And pack for a few days. Is it okay if I stay with you until Sunday?”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  “I’ll text you when I’m leaving for Atlanta.”

  “Okay. And keep your chin up. Somehow you’ll get through this.”

  “I hope you’re right. Talk to you later.”

  I end the conversation and prepare for telling my parents. I have to muster up some excitement or they may not believe that I was offered the job. Time for a Meryl Streep worthy Academy Award performance.

  Chapter 8

  My stomach is tied in knots. My nerves are completely shot. I hardly slept a wink last night just tossed and turned, worried and fretted about seeing Coop again today. I pull into the parking lot of Peachtree High school at 8:45 a.m. The lot’s practically empty since school’s not in session. But I see a familiar car. An expensive sports car. Damn, it’s Coop’s sweet ride which means he’s here already.

  You know what really stinks? I should be thrilled about this job. Bouncing off the ceiling and walls with excitement. Instead, my palms are clammy and I feel like I’m going to throw up.

  I walk the long sidewalk that leads to the doors of the building. Each step brings me closer to a fate I never dreamed of—facing my first and only sexual regret, even it is only a p
artial one.

  Sheryl Crow’s song, “My Favorite Mistake” keeps playing in my brain, a tribute to my misery. But I have to admit it’s true. Deep down inside I know I’d probably succumb to Coop again. He was just so damn perfect in his lovemaking. I’ve tried to forget what his hands, mouth and everything else felt like that day. But it’s no use. The more I try, the more I remember. Ruined, I’m completely ruined.

  Once inside the building, I smooth down the cotton material of my sensible dress. Priscilla dressed me this morning, styled my hair and applied my makeup. My mind was too scattered to make decisions or concentrate. She chose a respectable appearance for me, not quite schoolmarm but close.

  I reach for the doorknob to the main office. My fingers freeze over the shiny metal. I dread the moment when I will face Coop, when our eyes meet. The thought petrifies me. What will his reaction be of seeing me again? At least I have the advantage of knowing what lies ahead of me. He’s completely clueless.

  Mr. Reynolds probably used the name, Amelia Montgomery when he spoke of me and Coop only knows me as Millie.

  I clasp my hands together as I enter the office, worried that their shaking might be visible.

  I spot Mrs. Peterson in the distance. Her head down as she shuffles through some papers. I start walking toward her. My movement must have been detected as she looks up and smiles at me. God, how I needed to see her warm smiling face right now. It’s comforting.

  “Hello, Ms. Montgomery,” she sweetly greets me. “Congratulations on your new position here. We’re super happy to have you.”

  “Thank you. I am so happy too.” I try to muster up some enthusiasm, but it’s just not there.

  “Mr. Reynolds is in his office with Andrew Cooper. He’s a real looker. Single, I’ve heard too.” She winks at me and I want to sink into the floor. I’m tempted to turn and run out the door. “Let me open the door to his office for you.”

  I follow her a few steps to the principal’s office and the space where Coop awaits. My knees are weak, hardly holding me up.

  As she pushes the door open, and I peek in around her. Mr. Reynolds reacts to her at the door and rises from his chair behind his desk. Coop sits in front of him in the exact seat I sat in during my interview. I gingerly take a couple steps toward the desk as Coop turns his head and pivots his body my direction. Our eyes meet across the space. There’s only a few feet between us.

  It takes him a second to register who I am, like he’s trying to place me. His brows are pinched in concentration. But the second he figures out that it’s me, Millie, the girl he screwed last Wednesday, I know it. His jaw drops. His eyes widen in shock. His hair might even be standing on end. It’s like a bolt of electricity ran through him and he jolts straight up to his feet.

  Now Coop’s whole body is turned to me. We’re staring at each other. Deadlocked. Each of us standing as still as soldiers guarding Big Ben. I forget that there are others in the room until I hear Mr. Reynolds coughing slightly to get our attention.

  “Hello, Ms. Montgomery,” Mr. Reynolds says breaking the spell between Coop and me. He walks to me and shakes my hand. “Great to have you here with us and on such short notice. I’d like to introduce you to our new assistant football coach, Coach Andrew Cooper. He goes by Coop.”

  I take Coop’s outstretched hand into mine. He does more than shake it. He presses his fingers a little too firmly around mine. Then he holds my hand in his tight grip a little longer than is proper. We each mumble a, “Hello, nice to meet you.”

  He releases my hand and his fingers slowly trail the length of mine as he pulls away. All I can think about is what those fingers did to me in his bed. How they pleasured me. A rush of heat floods over me at the memory. I’m betting my face has turned a fire engine red too, betraying my thoughts.

  “Please have a seat, you two, and welcome again. I’m very glad to have you both here. Our newest additions to Peachtree.”

  “Thank you,” we both say at the same time. I give Coop a nervous glance.

  Somewhere from deep down inside, I force my legs to move. They bring me just inches away from Coop as I sit down. Mr. Reynolds and Coop follow my lead and sit down too. Pure southern gentlemen waiting to take a seat until the lady sits down first.

  My eyes are turned toward Mr. Reynolds but I can feel Coop’s hot gaze on me. I move my head slightly to catch his face and see his expression. It’s more of a glare. An unhappy one. He’s pissed, angry. His nostrils are even a little flared.

  My uneasiness makes me fidget and shift in my seat. I nervously wring my hands in my lap, looking anywhere but Coop’s direction. But I can feel his anger directed toward me. It burns my skin. But I can’t figure out why he’s so pissed off at me. I swing my hair to cover the side of my face that’s facing him. It serves as a wall of protection. However, body armor might be better right now.

  “Cecilia Barnes, the parent who was going to be the master of ceremonies at Saturday’s event, wants me to thank you for helping her out. She’s also the event chair but has delegated her organizing work to other parents. So, simply put, we need you two to show up a little early and run the event from a microphone. Encourage people to open their wallets if you know what I mean.”

  “I’ve done this for charities many times. Mostly for the Children’s Hospital here in Atlanta. It’s all about trust. Having people believe what you tell them,” Coop says passionately.

  I know his last words are directed at me. Literally. He looked right at me as he spoke them. Shit. I just need to make it through this meeting and Saturday night’s event. I’ll be fine after that. How often will I see him once school starts? Art teachers and coaches don’t usually cross paths. Thank God.

  Mr. Reynolds instructs us on the whereabouts of Saturday’s fundraiser. Since it’s held off campus at a hotel and not a school-sanctioned function per se, alcohol will be served, a fact that leaves me feeling pretty damn happy. I’ll need a few drinks to get through an event where Coop and I are working together.

  Though too much drinking likely landed me in Coop’s bed in the first place. I’ll just have to pace myself Saturday night and institute a two-drink, two-foot rule. I can’t get too buzzed or too close to him. He’s rather lethal to me. I glance over and scan his profile. Yep, he’s very deadly. Damn, his sexiness. I swear it streams off of his body and creates a puddle in my panties. I lean as far away from him as I can, my body practically half over the arm of my seat and anymore leaning will have the chair tipping over.

  “I know you’re an old hat at this, Coop. You’ll have to show Ms. Montgomery the ropes. Teach her how to get everyone excited about a cause and willing to donate to it.” Sadly, Mr. Reynolds doesn’t realize that Coop has already shown me his “rope.”

  “Getting people excited and willing to donate is something I’m good at. ” Coop’s tone is sarcastic. And yes, he says these comments right to my face. Looking down at me with anger in his eyes. I shiver, but not from fear. Damn, my traitorous body.

  Mr. Reynolds finally starts bringing this meeting from hell to an end. I’m close to bolting from the room, claiming I feel sick. It really isn’t a lie. Priscilla made me eat a bagel and cream cheese this morning and it isn’t sitting well on my stomach.

  “You two have all the information you need, I believe.” Mr. Reynolds hands us each a sheet of paper. “I’ve taken the liberty of putting your contact information on here. Phone numbers, emails, etcetera. The street address of the hotel, along with the details of the people helping run the event. I think you two are all set.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I respond. I’ve been mute throughout the meeting afraid to utter a word just letting the men do all the talking. A sweet little southern wallflower who was soundly plucked by the man sitting next to her. I didn’t know what to say, preferring to just recoil in my chair.

  “You have a passion for the arts, Ms. Montgomery. Coop has one for football. I’d like to see you two combine your passions. Bring them together.” I lower my head, beyond mor
tified by these words, while Coop coughs or chokes. I’m not really sure. But I’m not daring enough to look his way. “I’ll let you two get acquainted. I have a meeting with the math department in a few minutes. Thanks for helping us out in a pinch.”

  Did Mr. Reynolds just say that? Combine our passions? Shit, I hate to break the news to him but we’re long past that point. Passions shared, spent and still being replayed over and over in my mind.

  We all rise out of our seats. I quickly shake Mr. Reynolds’ hand and thank him for the opportunity to teach at Peachtree. Then I turn to leave his office in double time completely ignoring Coop, stepping past Mrs. Peterson without a glance in her direction. I just want the hell out of there. I don’t feel like I can breathe. As I break free and make it past the front doors, I hit the warm, summer Atlanta air then break into a run and head to my car.

  Over my heartbeat pounding in my head, I hear someone calling my name behind me. Shouting it. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know who it is. But as I said before, I’m a major chicken shit. I don’t do confrontations. Not my kind of thing. Southern breeding perhaps? Grin and bear it. Suck it up and take it. Not the best philosophies but it’s who I am at heart.

  I’m digging around in my purse for my keys as I continue to run away from the voice that’s calling my name. Getting closer to my car, I now can hear his feet hitting against the pavement behind me.

  My keys are out and ready as I try with shaky hands to unlock the car, but a hand grabs my arm and spins me around. And I’m met with the one and only Coop. He’s mad, fuming, and hot as hell. His blazing eyes are leaving me breathless. I lean against the door of my car. I need help standing up. Being this close to him has a horrible effect on my knees. They’ve become Jell-O.

  “Well, if it isn’t Millie?” There’s no way to miss the disdain in his voice. “Ms. Love ‘Em and Leave ‘Em, herself.”

  Crap. I want a quick comeback, but what can I say? His words are completely true. There’s no way around them, so I decide to barrel right through them instead.