Harry made, almost taking out the office in his desperation to get to Batshit.
The headmaster touched Toby’s arm. “Toby, could I have a word?”
Toby glanced at Ernest, who gave him a little nod. Toby said, “Of course, sir.”
“Call me Ron.”
“Th-thank you, Ron.”
Ron led him away to the side of the patio where an umbrella-covered table sat unoccupied. He motioned to the other chair and Toby sat.
A waiter came rushing over and Ron pointed to the barely touched glass of wine Toby held. “Would you like that freshened?”
“Oh, no, thank you.”
The dean shook his head at the waiter, then leaned back in the chair and pressed his fingers together in a gesture so academic it should have had ivy on it. “Toby, I know you’re aware that a subtext of our party is to get to know our two most promising part-time teachers with an eye toward a full-time position.”
“Yes, sir. I’m honored to be included.”
“Yes, excellent.” He smiled over the fingertips. “Victoria has told me that you do have difficulty following her specified curriculum.”
Toby’s stomach sank, taking his heart with it. He would not tell Ron that Victoria’s curriculum was so stuck in the early twentieth century, you could hum it to a Pat Boone melody. “I know, sir. But I think one of the reason’s the academy hired me was for a different point of view. I try to demonstrate that while remaining in the spirit of the curriculum.”
The headmaster gave a sort of snort.
Well damn. Toby let out a very soft sigh.
Ron said, “I have to remember that one. The spirit of the curriculum.” He flashed very white teeth. “Victoria also told me that you’re not only one of our most popular teachers, but that your students do better on standardized tests than virtually any group in the school. Can you explain that?”
Wow. “Uh, well, I do emphasize thinking for yourself. That’s why my classes seem kind of unruly. Everyone develops a thesis and I require if they state it, they must be able to defend it. Perhaps being able to think actually helps with tests?” He couldn’t help it. He grinned.
The freaking headmaster burst out laughing. “I guess that could be the reason.” He stood and Toby almost stumbled, he jumped up so fast. Ron said, “Well, you’re a breath of fresh air, Toby. I’m very pleased to see you brought your young man to meet us today. We were beginning to fear you two might have called it off. I’m glad to see you’re so obviously attached.” He extended his hand. “Thank you for your time.”
“Thank you, sir, uh, Ron.”
Ron should have fallen over from the force of the exhale that Toby let out in relief as the headmaster walked away.
“You made the big boss laugh, huh, shorty?”
Toby didn’t have to turn around to know who that voice belonged to. “Hello, Justin.”
Justin slid up beside Toby, his clean-cut Ivy League appearance contrasting with his snide, oily nature. “Remember, just because he laughed doesn’t mean he liked it. Ron’s not known for his sense of humor.”
God, Justin was such a turd. Sadly, he was also right.
“I see you finally produced the elusive boyfriend.”
Toby said nothing. Justin didn’t need replies.
“You sure you didn’t hire him? Looks like a rent boy to me.”
Toby could feel his hands ball into fists, but even if he could have laid this guy out, unlikely since Justin had five inches and twenty pounds on Toby, he’d never do it at a school event. Justin was counting on that.
A voice came from behind Justin and Toby turned to see Tiffany.
“Why, Justin, you didn’t really say such a disgusting thing about Toby’s boyfriend, did you?”
After an instant of deer in headlights, Justin smiled. “Just guy talk, Tiff. I’m joking of course. I joke because I care.” He looped a casual arm over Toby’s shoulders, but Toby shrugged and stepped away.
Tiffany, bless her, said, “Well, I should certainly hope so. You two play nice.”
She walked away and Justin sneered. “Dumb bitch.”
Toby whirled on him but stopped at the look on Justin’s face. He was staring past Toby with an expression of some weird combination of anger and shock.
Toby turned. Across the room, Ernest was standing next to the silver fox, laughing just a bit more than companionably. The man smiled back and clinked his glass to Ernest’s. They both drank.
Toby did not want to, but he felt sick. Clearly, this guy was all-over Ernest’s type. How sad he should have found someone else so soon. It