buying anything at the Twin Cities Comic Con.
I couldn’t think about him now—or ever. I had no time for dating. Once my stint at Preston was done, I was off to fix the next academy. Because that’s who I was: a fixer. To take my mind off my make-out session, I concentrated on the task at hand.
“Jaycee, why were you late for history?” I preferred to be direct. I wasn’t these kids’ BFF, and I wasn’t going to act like it. It was my job to make sure they got a quality education while building respectable character. Chitchat didn’t always fit into the equation.
“It takes too long to get from my locker to the classroom.”
Some days it was hard not to say bullshit out loud. Preston Academy was a university prep school that was small enough to be all in one building. Built sixty years ago, it was solid brick like it belonged on a prestigious college campus, and only one addition had been added over the years. My grandfather’s vision had never been to grow so large they needed to keep adding on. He insisted on quality over quantity. Until my father had taken over. It had cost me a ton of friendships and any popularity whatsoever because of all the moving. He’d gone on to build five more similarly sized campuses all over the country. Rich people wanted superior education for their kids and the more limited it was, the more prestigious it felt.
A message popped up on my screen. I read it, my heart sinking to my Captain America–decaled toenails. “Who’s Dresden Wentworth?”
My heart thumped in time with the flare of Jaycee’s eyes. Yes, I know who you’ve been making out with. Unfortunately, my time going through records after starting this job also meant I knew the Wentworths were one of the biggest benefactors of the school.
The downfall of many private schools: those who gifted their money thought it came with strings attached. Look, I just wrote a check for a hundred thousand and we need a quarterback with a solid arm. I just happen to know a student we can recruit for a full ride.
I couldn’t blame them. The sums paid for tuition and that were donated outright were staggering. But balance was needed between academics and extracurricular activities and that wasn’t always appreciated. Retaining quality staff meant spending money on them, and some of their donors didn’t understand the correlation.
“Dresden’s a friend.” Jaycee’s gaze flicked away. “Why are you bringing him up?”
“He’s a friend you’ve been late to history for. And it’s something I need to inform your parents about.” I glanced at the new message on my screen.
Jaycee lived with only one parent, her father. Her mother was listed as an emergency contact only.
I slid my gaze back to the girl. Issues at home then. Mom was out of the picture and Dad was either too strict or his little angel did no wrong.
Jaycee scowled at the top of my desk. “Do what ya gotta do.”
Oh, I would. “Why do you call Mr. Budinsky names?”
The girl snorted. “Because he refuses to use my proper name. Until he does, I’m not using his proper name.”
“What wrong name is he using?”
Jaycee gathered her hair and draped it down her back. What I wouldn’t give to wear my hair down someday. But as the daughter of the man in charge of all six Preston Academies, I had to look as professional as humanly possible. Sharp suits, bound hair, and, when the occasion called for a little more flair, dark-rimmed glasses. I wore little makeup besides a brush or two of mascara and clear lip gloss. Dying my hair wasn’t an option, thanks to the dress code, but I’d accumulated quite an assortment of wigs for my cosplay.
“He keeps calling me Ms. Halliwell when it should be Ms. Richards.”
Richards? I glanced at the computer again. Ah. The mother’s name.
“What’s your legal name?” It had to be Halliwell. The school required legal names, not first preferences and not nicknames.
“Well,” Jaycee fisted the cuffs of her long-sleeved emerald shirt, “Halliwell is on my birth certificate, but I went by Richards for years until…” Her gaze slid to the ceiling, then bounced to the wall. And there it was. The pain that made Jaycee act out. Textbook.
“Until you moved in with your father?”
Jaycee nodded but didn’t meet my gaze.
“How are things going, living with him?”
“Fine. He’s around a lot now. Like, all the time.”
“He never used to be?” Half of my