Page 71 of The Rest is History
I cross my arms over my chest. ‘Spill it, Vaughan.’
He sighs. ‘I was in finance for a few years before I went over to teaching.’
This is a shock. I would have pegged this guy for a lifer. Although… ‘I did think you looked like an off-duty hedge fund manager when you interviewed me.’
He laughs. ‘I was a venture capitalist.’
‘Why did you quit?’
‘Burnout. And my marriage was on the rocks—though there were other reasons for that. But I thought if I took my foot off the gas, it might help.’
I file his marriage under Things I Definitely Need to Know More About. But I have another question.
‘So, how long have you been a teacher for?’
He hesitates.
‘Come on.’
He sighs. ‘Six years.’
I gasp dramatically. ‘You mean of the two of us, I’m the more qualified?’
‘I knew this was coming. Technically, yes, but I obviously have more professional experience overall?—’
I shake my head. ‘Nope. Don’t try to weasel your way out of this one. You knew I had more teaching years than you, and yet you’ve patronised me and overruled me and ignored my suggestions andslagged offmy teaching methods this whole year.’
He grips my wrist, smiling sexily. ‘Somebody needed to know who was boss.’
I smirk. ‘I think we established that up against the wall at the palace. Somebody was so insecure that they armoured up and decided to belittle me instead of embracing what could have been a collaborative working relationship.’
He releases my wrist. Entwines his fingers with mine. ‘You’re right, of course,’ he says softly. ‘I’m a dick. And much as it pains me to say it, I greatly admire you as an educator.AndI’ve been meaning to tell you, the essays that came out of your lesson were incredible.’
I laugh magnanimously. ‘Of course they were. But I appreciate you admitting it. I’d like to see some of them.’
‘Sure.’ His hand reaches up to cup my neck, his fingers sending goosebumps over my skin as they glide. ‘Next question.’
‘So, uh,’—I attempt to focus on my burning questions instead of his dangerous fingers—‘the finance money paid for this house?’
‘You’re persistent. When my brother was building his business, I helped him a lot with funding it. I was an early investor, too. Still am. So the finance money paid for the investment, and let’s say the investment has paid massive dividends. For both of us.’
I smile slyly. ‘So you don’t exactly need Henry VIII to pay the bills.’
‘Not exactly, no.’
‘Do you need to work at all?’
He hesitates. ‘It’s useful for the coffers.’
‘The coffers. You sound like Cromwell.’
His hand slips under the collar of my shirt—his shirt. ‘You are mesmerising, you know that?’
I squirm happily.
‘My turn,’ he says. ‘Speaking of the Hampton Court gig. Are you ready to tell me more about your family issue?’
‘You know most of it. Jake, that’s Grace’s ex-husband, walked out. He gave her lots of reasons, none of which made any sense and none of which put any of the blame on himself. He works in finance, and let’s just say he did a very good job of hiding the money, so in the end, the amount the court ruled on was a total joke.’
