Page 7 of Magdalene Nox

Was it because she was just contrary enough to despise him more than she hated the school? And by extension oppose anything and everything he personally stood for, even if it meant keeping that damned piece of rock and stone safe and sound and prosperous, just to spite this man?

Magdalene couldn’t quite reconcile her own years-long goal with what she was feeling right now. The disgust at the dismissiveness and callousness of these people, of this one man. Where was all this anger coming from? After all, he wasn’t the only one who’d sealed her fate all those years ago. Tullinger Senior, the rest of the Board, and the faculty had done their part–perhaps played an even bigger role than Alden ever had.

“This job will probably be one of the easiest ones you’ve ever had, Ms. Nox. After all, just shut it all down. We have few expectations.” Tullinger snapped his fingers at the server, and Magdalene noticed the cringe Timothy didn’t even bother to hide. Well, she’d trained him for years, and he knew better than to treat people like garbage. Tullinger’s behavior was one way of making sure the fresh-faced, polite girl would spit into whatever pretentious concoction he was ordering.

But it was time to intervene in what had become some sort of celebration of the death knell to the school by these people who were charged with safekeeping the institution, yet seemed hellbent on celebrating its rot instead.

“I never give up on things unless they are beyond hope, Mr. Tullinger.” Timothy’s ensuing self-deprecating smirk didn’t deter her. “You will send the financial, academic, and other pertinent school records for the past ten years to my assistant, George Leroy. I will ascertain the depth of the issue, and we will proceed from there.”

“Surely—” Tullinger leaned forward, his voice going slightly shrill, but Magdalene was having none of it. She had been listening to the noise these men had been producing—since one couldn’t really refer to it as cogent thought—for over an hour, and she’d only managed to learn that they were contemptible, both collectively and as individuals, as trustees and people.

“I’m not finished, Mr. Tullinger. Once I avail myself of the opportunity to study the documents I requested, and provided I find things to be to my satisfaction, we will have a follow-up meeting where I will present the conditions required for me to accept the position.”

For a moment, one could have heard a pin drop. It was obvious none of these men had expected her to not jump at the chance right away or to make any demands for that matter. She held Alden’s gaze. After several long seconds, he narrowed his eyes before shifting them to his drink.

“And what might some of those conditions be, Doctor Nox?”

Sneaky old fox. She waited for him to look at her again before she answered, and she could tell the silence was making absolutely everyone around the table uncomfortable, except Alden. After all, one couldn’t run for Governor of Massachusetts and win—and by all accounts serve as a decent public servant—without having some sort of negotiation acumen. Nonetheless, despite the heaviness of the moment, he lifted his eyes to her quicker than she would have.

Good.

“Before we discuss my stipulations any further, Mr. Alden, I need to fully familiarize myself with the real state-of-affairs at the school—”

“You aren’t calling us liars now, are you, lass?” Rolffe, the patronizing clown, had citrus seeds in his beard from his cocktail, and Magdalene found it perversely satisfying to see his sloppiness coupled with his asinine behavior.

“Mr. Rolffe, I have twenty years of experience in running private schools. What will happen to The Three Dragons Academy will depend on what I find in my research of its records. No more, no less. If the school cannot be saved, then I will close it. However, if there is hope for its salvation, then so be it.”

Her own words sounded like gunshots in her mind. One after another, bullets piercing the decades-long promise of ruin.What was she saying? Why was she saying this?It was clear they were hoping she would close the school. If Alden was to be believed, he’d be happy if she drove it off the Amber Cliff. So why was she even floating the possibility of her own involvement in anything other than the total destruction of Dragons?

“So your proviso is to be allowed to be in charge?”

Alden’s voice was even more hoarse now, and it did not escape Magdalene that it strained under the exceedingly precise formulation of his question.

“I would rather not list all of my requirements, Mr. Alden. That would be up to my lawyers, who will present you with the offer once all of my requests have been satisfied.” She saw displeasure darken his eyes. He was clearly not accustomed to being denied answers, and so she relented. Even if her answer was in the form of a dagger she knew he half anticipated, yet dreaded nonetheless.

Well, they did want Magdalene Nox for the job. What did they expect?

“But since you are asking, here are the Cliff’s Notes.” She laid her hands on the table, palms down, her crimson fingernails bleeding red streaks on the white tablecloth. Everyone followed her gesture but Alden, who held her gaze yet again.

“Should I accept the position, I will demand full control. Firing and hiring abilities, subject to me. Contractual and other executive prerogatives, among others. No interference from the trustees unless it is on major charter changes. And ultimately, I would demand a full twelve months of this arrangement without even so much as a phone call questioning anything I deem necessary at The Three Dragons Academy.”

The men, as if mesmerized, kept staring at her hands, fingers splayed on the table, and Alden’s eyes grew larger with each word trickling from her mouth like drops of venom.

She rose, and Timothy shook himself out of the collective trance and helped her pull out her chair.

“And those were just off the top of my head, gentlemen. My attorneys will be awaiting the paperwork I mentioned earlier. Have a good evening.”

She exited the restaurant without looking back.

* * *

Manhattan greetedher with a surprising post-evening-rain freshness, and despite her four-inch heels, she didn’t raise her hand for a cab. It was four blocks to her hotel. She’d walk and get a much needed breath of fresh air, and maybe she’d find her sanity along the way, since she had surely lost her mind in that restaurant.

“Suddenly you think you can save the damn school?”

Her stride didn’t falter as she directed a razor sharp glare his way, and Timothy fell into step with her, their motions synchronized by years of practice during their long hikes and endless walks. She remembered how much he hated the outdoors, and yet he would join her regularly without so much as a complaint. She looked down at his shining Oxfords.

“Your shoes are much less comfortable, and yet you’ve decided to enjoy the delights of the garbage and marinara scents the neighborhood has to offer.”

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