Page 88 of XOXO, Valentina

Was it my imagination, or was there a touch of snarkiness in his one-word question?

“Can you get Mr. Morales on the phone for me?” I asked.

“I can try,” he said.

I didn’t imagine the note of exasperation in his voice. “Find out where he went,” I said, disengaging before Mr. Collins had a chance to answer.

The next few minutes ticked by slowly. I tried texting Joey again, but he didn’t reply. I read his resignation email again and again, searching for clues but finding nothing.

After my fifth time reading Joey’s email, a vein pulsed in my forehead, and my vision blurred. I leaned my elbows on my desk and hung my head in my hands.

I jabbed the intercom button again. “Did you find him?”

Mr. Collins’s reply came over the intercom immediately. “I can’t get him on the phone,” he said. His voice lowered in a conspiratorial whisper. “I heard he went to Sapphire Valley Academy.”

My blood boiled. Sapphire Valley stole all the best teachers. We hated Sapphire Valley. How could he do this?

I grabbed my purse and flew out of my office.

“Where are you going?” Mr. Collins asked, his eyes as huge as dinner plates.

“Can you handle announcements? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

38

Chapter 34

Joey

Sapphire Valley Academy had been trying to recruit me as the head of their language department for months, so it had been a breeze to get a job there. One phone call and everything was set. I was going to be over the foreign language department, which included French, Latin, Spanish and Japanese.

Even though I was getting a promotion and an increase in salary, leaving PES had been hard. I’d agonized over the letter I sent to each one of my students’ families, promising to stay in touch and to see them at the Fun Festival in two weeks. I’d arranged for Mrs. Costello to sub my classes until a permanent replacement could be found. The kids liked Mrs. Costello almost as much as they liked me. She was a kindly, grandmother type who sat on the floor with the kids and read them stories in Spanish.

I was going to miss my students, even Sally Ann, but I was going to miss Gabriella more. By now, she probably knew I’d quit. I wondered how she felt. Was she as angry at me as I was at her? Or did she understand why I’d done it? Did she know I’d left because there was no way I could work with her? Not when I was in love with her and she only wanted one thing from me.

I parked in the teacher’s lot and took a moment to collect myself. I had to forget about Gabriella. She didn’t want me, so why should I waste time on her? I wasn’t the type of man who chased women. There were plenty of fish in the sea—even if none of them were as beautiful, smart, or sweet as Gabriella.

After another minute, I snapped out of my sadness and reached into the back seat for the muffins I’d made. Two dozen chocolate chip.

A muffin went a long way to making friends with the most important people at the school: the assistants, the cafeteria workers, and the custodians.

Having already met the headmaster informally a few times, I was pretty sure the school would be a good fit, but it never hurt to bring bribes.

I went straight to the headmaster’s office. My new boss, Mrs. Ackerman, was nothing like Gabriella. She was a free spirit with silver braids that hung to the middle of her back. She was closer to my grandmother’s age than mine, and she ruled the school with an angelic energy.

I stopped at her assistant’s desk first.

“How’re you doin’?” I asked, offering the muffins.

She sniffed appreciatively. “Oh Em Gee! Chocolate chip!” She clasped her hands together. “I shouldn’t. I’m watching my weight. “

“One won’t hurt. Take it for later.”

She blushed and reached into the container. “You really know how to get in good with the staff.”

If she only knew how good I was in at PES.“People love my muffins.” I smiled, and the poor girl blushed from the roots of her hair to her neck.Here we go again.The curse of my Costa Rican accent was that women loved it too much. They claimed everything I said sounded sexy. I cleared my throat and closed the container. “Is Mrs. Ackerman here yet?”

“Everyone calls her Angie,” she said. “And I’m Beth.” She took a bite of the muffin and grinned as she chewed. “Fernando, right?”

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