After getting into the van, we made our way into town. Because our town was small, the school board held its meetings at the justice center in one of the courtrooms. The moment we pulled into the parking lot, my stomach lurched, and I almost threw up.
“If you’re gonna barf, do it out the window. I just cleaned the upholstery,” Ansel warned.
Instead of giving him hell for being inconsiderate, I smiled. His comment was just what I needed to get my mind off things. He knew what he was doing because when I turned to look at him, he winked. “Thanks for the tip, douche bag,” I replied.
“You’re welcome, asshat.”
He eased the van into one of the closest handicap spots. I stayed in my seat while he lowered the ramp to allow Daddy to get out of his wheelchair. Once Daddy was out, Ansel rapped on my window, signaling that it was time for me to get out and face the music.
When we got to the door, a familiar figure stood waiting for us. I smiled as I dove into his arms. “Owen, it’s so good to see you.”
“Good to see you too, Mistress.”
I couldn’t help stiffening at him using that word. He must’ve notice because he said, “Sorry. I promise I won’t make that mistake when we’re inside.”
“Thank you,” I replied, as I pulled away. Owen had been playing with Mistress Venus when I blew into 1740 and took out Calla. He had immediately called me and offered his legal services, which I was more than happy to take him up on.
When Dad cleared his throat behind us, I smacked my forehead. “Where are my manners? This is my dad, Michael, and my brother, Ansel.” Motioning to Owen, I said, “This is my lawyer, Owen.”
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Owen said. He made sure to take my father’s hand in his when he shook it. Over the years together, I’d told Owen about Daddy’s condition.
“Are you going to make sure Sophie keeps her job?”
Owen smiled. “I sure as hell am.”
Daddy returned his smile. “Good. Then we’ll get along just fine.”
Owen reached for the door and opened it. “We should get inside. They’ll be starting soon.”
Although I tried to put on the emotional armor I wore as a Domme, I couldn’t still the jackrabbit beating of my heart or the trembling in my knees. Sensing my nervousness, Owen put a hand on my lower back and eased me through the door. Ansel and Daddy followed behind us.
To say that the room was packed would be an understatement. While I should have had a good inclination of the crowd from the packed parking lot, I couldn’t quite have imagined it would be standing room only. In a small town like mine, a sex scandal was considered prime entertainment.
All the noisy chatter ceased when we walked up the aisle. My skin crawled under the scrutiny of all the eyes raking over me. Owen led me to a table at foot of the small stage. Next to us was another table where William and his lawyer sat. When I briefly met his eye, he gave me a tight smile. I didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, I slid into the chair that Owen pulled out for me.
After a few agonizing minutes of feeling the stares boring into my back, Dr. Levinson banged his gavel, silencing the crowd. After clearing his throat, he said, “We’re here tonight to meet on whether to terminate staff members, William Foster, and Sophie Jameson based on violation of Standard Ten of the Georgia Professional Standards. Based on her lack of tenure, we’ll begin with Ms. Jameson.” He looked over his glasses at us. “Would the counsel for Ms. Jameson like to address us?”
“Yes, sir.” Owen rose out of his chair and walked to the podium. “First off tonight, I want to say how very unfortunate it is that it has come to a meeting such as this. Whatever disciplinary action that needed to be taken should have been done behind closed door. Tonight is highly detrimental to the emotional wellbeing of my client, and I’m sure Dr. Foster—”
“Excuse me, Mr. Sandborne, I realize you’re from Atlanta and find our ways archaic and outdated. However, our meeting tonight is within the law. Your speech has no bearing on your client’s case, so I would suggest you stick to the point.”
Owen’s jaw clenched. “Yes sir. I’m sure that like myself you and the board have read in detail the Code of Conduct for educators. I’m sure that you have debated the parameters of Standard Ten, which I would like to read aloud at this time.”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
After clearing his throat, Owen began to read aloud. “An educator shall demonstrate conduct that follows generally recognized professional standards and preserves the dignity and integrity of the education profession. Unethical conduct includes but is not limited to any conduct that impairs or diminishes the certificate holder’s ability to function in his or her employment position.”
Instead of looking at the board members, he turned around and stared out at the crowd. “That, ladies and gentlemen, is word for word—nothing added or taken away. That is what Ms. Jameson was aware of when she signed her contract with this district.”
He then turned back to the school board. “Tonight it may seem like we are here to judge Ms. Jameson’s educational abilities, but instead, it is to question her morality. We’re here to do that because of something that happened far outside of the classroom. Had it not been for the vindictive actions of a former girlfriend of Dr. Foster’s, no one here would have ever known. There would have not been a need to question Ms. Jameson’s character because it was known to be exemplary in this town. Let’s not forget she graduated from this high school with honors. I’m pretty sure if you pulled her permanent record, it would be blemish free as she was not a troublemaker. While she attended school here, she belonged to several civic organizations where she volunteered her time. Before this unfortunate incident, you would’ve been hard pressed to find anyone to speak ill of her conduct or character.”
Owen paused for what could only be dramatic effect. “Yes, it is true that Ms. Jameson worked as a professional dominatrix for five years. While it has no real bearing on the case, it is worth noting that she did this as a job, not as a sexual preference. She took this job not only to put herself through college, but to support her brother and disabled father. Considering she was not a Domme in real life, I’m sure there were aspects of the job she found distasteful. But she soldiered on for the love of her family. That’s pretty damn admirable when you think about it.”
Several of the board members looked curiously at me as they processed what Owen had said. I guess they themselves were wondering what they would be willing to do to help a loved one.
“I’m sure some people might argue that Ms. Jameson’s motives were dishonest because on her job application she did not list the club as one of her places of previous employment. I would argue that the vast majority of applicants are not one hundred percent forthright about their employment history for many reasons. Perhaps they were fired or let go, or the job had no bearing on their abilities in the classroom. That small fact does not make Ms. Jameson a liar.”
“Let’s get to the heart of what is at stake here: Ms. Jameson’s job as an educator. In the four months she has been teaching, Ms. Jameson has received two administrative observations—” Owen paused to look up at the board members. “I would like to note for the record that neither of these observations were done by Dr. Foster should anyone like to snidely comment that there was personal bias based on their relationship.”
“So noted,” Dr. Levinson replied.
“She received all satisfactory marks. There were no areas that needed improvement, nor was there any commentary about questionable morals involving Ms. Jameson or the way she interacted with her students. This is quite exemplary considering most first year teachers have areas that need improvement on their observations.”
Owen waved the copies of my observations in the air. “In my hands there is written proof that Ms. Jameson’s past as a Domme certainly did not impede her ability to be a good teacher in the classroom.” He tossed the observations onto the stage at Dr. Levinson’s feet.
After coming back over to the
table, Owen dug out a large pile of papers from his open briefcase. “I have in my hands letters of recommendation from Ms. Jameson’s students. They all speak of how much they learned this year with her as their teacher, as well as what a kind-hearted, caring person she is. They request that you all vote in favor of keeping her on at Milton High.”
I gasped as tears stung my eyes. Owen hadn’t told me anything about the letters. I don’t know how he had possibly worked so fast to get them. The thought of the students I’d had for only four months writing me recommendation letters caused tears to stream down my cheeks.
“Finally, I will speak to the issue that I’m sure has tongues wagging in town. The fact that Dr. Foster and Ms. Jameson were involved sexually. I would like to state for the record, they were involved more than just sexually—they were involved in a romantic and committed relationship. This was not some instance of a hook-up or my client using her ‘feminine wiles’ with her principal to try and somehow elevate her status within the school.”
Turning away from the school board, Owen once again surveyed the crowd. “When Ms. Jameson was hired here at Milton, it was by Dr. Newsome—your now disgraced principal. Dr. Foster was hired and began work here less than a week before preplanning began. At the time, my client was living in an Atlanta suburb. She had not been home to hear any of the gossip surrounding Dr. Newsome’s dismissal and Dr. Foster’s hiring.
Yes, it’s true the two met at the club in question. I’m sure Dr. Foster’s attorney will deal with how his client’s proclivities in his personal life have little to do with his professional abilities. After meeting up on a jogging trail at Kennesaw Mountain Park, the two had lunch and spent the weekend getting to know each other. It was not until Ms. Jameson showed up for work that she learned of Dr. Newsome’s departure—” He paused, and when I turned my head, I saw that his gaze was focused on someone. “Ms. Jameson’s Department Head could testify that Ms. Jameson had no idea that Dr. Foster was the new administrator.”
When I looked at Jane, she nodded at Owen before giving me a small smile.
Owen turned back to the board members. “My point in talking about this is to show that the two of them were in the early stages of dating when the rug was jerked out from under them by discovering that Dr. Foster was now Ms. Jameson’s boss. After this, the two tried to remain professional and distant, but it became too hard because of the feelings they had for each other. Their relationship started up again. And it was a complete lack of good judgment on their part to attend the Halloween party at the club.”
With a devious smile, Owen once again turned back to the crowd. “Of course, I’m sure that everyone here can cast a stone because they are without sin, right? None of you have gone to a party or professional sporting event and thrown back a few too many, right? None of you have ever done something in private that if brought to the light might result in losing your job, your spouse, or your standing in the community, right?” His gaze trailed over the crowd before he turned around to do the same to the board.
“I think it’s safe to say that both Ms. Jameson and Dr. Foster have paid enough already for their indiscretion. Taking away their jobs would be like throwing a rock in a pond and letting it ripple. Give them the chance to continue being the fine, upstanding educators they always have been.”
Owen then came back over to the table and sat down by me. “Nice job,” I whispered.
“Thanks,” he replied, with a wink.
If I thought I was already an anxious wreck, it became amplified as I had to sit through William’s attorney’s spiel. His was much like Owen’s—citing the wonderful person William was through his philanthropic donations and charity work. Detailing how when he was a teacher, his students excelled in the history portion of the graduation tests as well as all the contributions he had made as an assistant football coach. By the time William’s attorney sat down, I had chewed my fingernails ragged.
Dr. Levinson cleared his throat before staring out into the crowd. “We will first render a decision against Ms. Jameson. After hearing the argument by Mr. Sandborne, coupled with the fact that Ms. Jameson does not have district or state tenure, I make a motion that she be released from her contract,” Dr. Levinson said.
“They’re still going to fire me?” I hissed in Owen’s ear.
He held up a hand to silence me while curiously peering at Dr. Levinson. “I would also add that she would receive a letter of recommendation should another school system see fit to hire her. There would be no registered blemish against her record with PSC.”
One by one the school board members each voted in agreement. My heart plummeted to my knees, and I fought the bile rising in my throat. I couldn’t listen as they voted about William. Owen leaned over to whisper in my ear. “It could’ve been a lot worse. They could have revoked your certificate to where you would have never been able to teach in the state of Georgia again. This way you can get another teaching job—it’ll just be like this one didn’t exist.”
“Then when they ask for previous employment, what do I say?”
“You give them the recommendation letter as well as your student teaching contact information.”
I took a moment to process his words. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. It could have been a lot worse. We were told horror stories of certificate revocations in my teaching classes. Those were the instances you didn’t come back from. I had the chance to come back from this unfortunate set-back. “You’re right. I don’t like it, but you’re right.”
The bang of the gavel caused me to jump. I realized that during my conversation with Owen, I hadn’t heard what happened to William. I craned my neck to get a look at him. He appeared disappointed but not devastated before he exited out one of the side doors. When I thought I might have to ask Daddy or Ansel what had happened, William’s attorney, a man named Walter Atkins, stopped at our table. After pumping Owen’s hand, he said, “That was one hell of an argument. I’m glad to see the backwoods folk got a taste of why they call you Sanborne, the killer shark.”
Owen laughed. “Why thank you. I must say your argument wasn’t too shabby.”
“I hope William will come to appreciate that. I don’t think he’s too happy with the transfer.”
Before I could stop myself, I blurted, “What transfer?”
Walter looked at me like, “Weren’t you listening five seconds ago?”
Owen gave an apologetic look. “I’m afraid that Sophie and I didn’t hear the ruling because we were talking about hers.”
“Oh, I see. Well, they’ve put William on administrative leave for the rest of the year. He’ll be working behind the scenes at the county office until all this blows over. Then he’ll come back next year as an assistant principal. Not sure when he’ll ever work his way back up to a principal.”
“So he gets to stay?” I questioned brusquely.
“In a way, yes.” Walter gave me a somewhat haughty look. “I’d hardly say that he wasn’t going to feel the sting of punishment.”
“Oh no, he just gets to keep getting paid as a principal while getting to keep a job in education. Me, I’m just kicked to the curb.” I shook my head furiously. “It’s total bullshit!”
Since my voice had raised considerably, a few people around us turned to stare. Owen took me by the arm. “I think it’s time we retired for the evening. Walter, nice seeing you again.”
Although I was still fuming, I let Owen lead me away. The crowd parted for us like I had leprosy, and if they got too close, I might infect them. Ansel and Daddy fell in behind us.
Once we were out of earshot of the others, Daddy said, “Sophie, it isn’t as bad as you think it is.”
“Yeah, Owen said the same thing,” I grumbled.
“Give it time. You’ll come to see that things could have been worse.”
I threw up my hands in frustration. “Once again, Owen said the same thing. I know it should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. Nothing is going to make me feel better ex
cept for draining a bottle of Jack!”
“Then go home and have your Jack. Throw up and pass out. Then tomorrow even though you wake up with a hangover from hell, make sure you wake up with a renewed sense of purpose in your life,” Daddy replied.
Owen smiled. “Ditto what he said.”
“Fine. I will, okay?”
“Okay.”
I wrapped my arms around Owen and squeezed him tight. “I can never thank you enough for what you’ve done for me.”
“Although thanks aren’t necessary, you’re welcome. You just make sure to keep your chin up. The Sophie I know doesn’t let anything get her down. You won’t do yourself any good if you let those bastards win.”
“I’ll try. I promise.”
After Owen kissed me on the cheek, he helped me into van. Ansel had already gotten Daddy inside. When we pulled out of the parking space, I sighed and buried my head in my hands. “If you two don’t mind, can we not talk about the meeting?”
“Whatever you say, Soph.”
Thankfully, they honored my wishes for the ride home. After we got home, Ansel and I started helping Daddy get ready for bed. At the bang at the front door, Ansel and I exchanged a look. “Want me to handle it?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No. You finish helping Daddy.” I then stalked over to the corner where Daddy’s shotgun was propped up. In the last twenty-four hours, we’d had a couple of crazies showing up at the house, wanting to talk to me. Mainly, they were men who wanted to sexually harass me. Thus, the need for the shotgun. It’s amazing how fast they’ll get the hell out of Dodge when you answer the door packing heat.
After slinging the shotgun over my shoulder, I strode down the hallway. Without bothering to ask who it was, I threw open the door and shoved the muzzle of the shotgun forward. “What the fuck do you want?” I demanded.
When I saw it was William standing before me, I lowered the gun. “I’m thinking I want a clean pair of pants because you just scared the shit out of me,” William replied, with a tentative smile.
“I’m sorry, but this has become necessary in the last few days with all the weirdos roaming around. Maybe I should have asked Robert for Calla’s home address and then I could have sent them her way.”