Page 8 of Delayed Penalty

Fuck it.

I’m in.

Miles

We’re back baby.

Chapter Four

Avery

Teaching students the week before spring break should be illegal.

At least that’s how it feels sometimes.

It’s Friday, the last day of school before spring break and the kids are absolute bonkers. It doesn’t help that there’s been an assembly, a big breakfast for the kids with music and dancing, and then we came back to our classes to finish testing.

In what world is that the best way to set up your students for success when you expect them to test. Also, in what world is it best practice to do testing the day before a big break when all the students have been talking about is where they are going on vacation? Not a damn kid is thinking about their education right now and it shows.

Plus, it’s my birthday and I have to deal with all of this.

Thankfully, it’s the end of the day and all we have left to do is wave off the buses, then we can pack up and head out for a week off. I thought I would be excited since it’s my birthday, but truthfully, it’s been almost depressing.

I woke up this morning to Peter already being gone for work, a coffee pot with not even half a cup of coffee left, and his breakfast mess all over the kitchen.

Happy fucking birthday to me.

Then on the way in to work, I stepped in a puddle and soaked my socks, and based on how tired I am right now, I’m almost positive the lady at the coffee stand gave me decaf. It’s just been agreatday.

Now I get to go get changed into some stupid ass dress because Peter finally ended up making reservations for my birthday at this ridiculously pretentious restaurant I don’t really want to go to. But alas, I’m going because it’s easier to just keep him happy.

If your grandpa heard you say that, he’d roll over in his grave.

By the time I make it to the restaurant, I only have ten minutes to spare before Peter will be here, and I’m hoping to be sitting down with his drink ready for him so we can have an enjoyable night. Luckily, there’s no one else waiting so the hostess takes me to our table, which of course is Peter’s usual table since he comes here often for work meetings.

The nice thing about him being a regular here is that the staff is well-versed in what my fiancé likes so they already have our drinks out.

A whiskey for him and a glass of red wine for me because he thinks it makes me look sophisticated.

I think it makes me look pretentious as fuck since I’m drinking sour grapes that taste like some sort of vinegar I should be cooking with, but that’s just one of the many differences between Peter and I.

What I’m not expecting to see at the table is another glass of whiskey along with a glass of champagne.

What in the actual fuck?

“Here you are, ma’am. Mr. Humphrey said he would just be another moment, he’s just grabbing Mr. Richards and his daughter from their hotel.”

It all makes sense now. It may be my birthday, but of course, my fiancé would never want to just spend time with me unless there’s an ulterior motive, or at least something in it for him as a way to move up in this world, especially in his career.

Pulling my phone out of my purse, I go to text Peter, and instead see another text from Harris.

He who must not be named

Hi. Happy Birthday.

I hope today makes you smile.

Well, right now I’m not.

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