"Stuart wrote," Victor pulled out his square-framed reading glasses and squinted at the typed document, "Two of the children mocked Michael every time he turned his back and the rest of the class would laugh. Michael continued teaching without ever realizing what was going on." He set down the paper on the desk and looked disapprovingly across the table. "Is this how you're going to run a company? Not knowing how your employees feel about you?" He folded his hands on top of the stack.
"Stuart was doing it with them!" Michael protested. "I saw the whole thing. I told them to stop, I threatened them, but he insisted I was bluffing."
It'd been a terrible last week of school. The kids were riled up, ready for summer. Mrs. Lunde had been cashing in all the unused hours of class-watch time. Victor had given Michael the learning opportunity of meeting with each member of the teaching staff to talk about their future with the academy. The worst part was Stuart had been assigned the task of evaluating the whole thing.
"Stuart, is this true?' Victor asked.
"I thought it'd be a good learning opportunity for him," Stuart answered.
"I couldn't agree more." Victor nodded. "He's your subordinate. You need to be able to control him. If anyone is causing havoc in the workplace, you need to cut them off, make an example out of them. Instead, he made an example of you."
Michael shot a glare at Stuart, who stared faithfully at Victor.
"I'm starting to think I chose the wrong son. Stuart, would you like to marry my daughter?" Victor laughed, "I'm joking, I'm joking. You're coming along just fine, Michael. You two have a great week. I hope you don't get into much trouble." He gave them a small wink before shaking their hands, "Stay safe."
The parking lot pickup line was loud with summer freedom pulsing through the kids. The parents picking them up had somber expressions glued to their faces.
"Oh, come on. I had to write a few bad things. He would've been suspicious if I hadn't." Stuart argued as they walked across the patio towards the busy lot.
"But you only wrote bad things." Michael returned. "If you're going to be in my life, you're going to help me."
Before Stuart could respond, a frizzy red headed girl ran up to them. "Have a great summer, Mr. Robinson!" She said sweetly. Her hair continued to bounce after she stopped moving.
"And you too, Elle." Michael responded, "I hope you have—"
"I wasn't talking to you," she waved at Stuart, pushed her nose to the air at Michael, turned, and ran back to her tiny posse that were giggling in a huddle.
Stuart shrugged at Michael, grinning with pride. "Maybe I should teach here."
"It's because you look like them." Michael retorted.
"Michael Charles Robinson!" Kat's voice sent a cold shrill down Michael's spine.
He turned to see his fiancé marching towards him from the lot. Her long legs hit the ground with forceful steps.
"Kat, what's wrong? Are you ok?" Michael reached out to grab Kat's wrists, but she quickly batted his hands away. Her long fake eyelashes twitched. The edges of her mouth curled down in a scowl. Michael had seen her upset, but this was something else, she was livid.
"My father just told me you were leaving for a week!" She placed her right hand on her hip, "You told my father, but didn't even think, maybe my fiancé should know?" She looked up at him with a deathly glare.
Michael's eyebrows scrunched as he looked down at Kat. "I'm not going—I didn't say—what are you talking about?" He lifted two hands as if to show he had nothing to hide.
She switched hands and hips, "He just told me that you'd left for your bachelor party. I thought you were gone. If I hadn't caught you and you'd left again without saying anything—"
Michael snapped his head to Stuart, who had distanced himself from the conversation. After Michael held his gaze, Kat quit talking and shifted her head to the innocent-looking man as well.
"It was supposed to be a surprise!" Stuart quickly turned to them as if he'd been in the conversation the whole time. "Kat, I'm sorry. Michael didn't know." He turned to Michael, "Surprise!" Michael's face morphed from confused to concerned in a short moment. Stuart gave him a slight nod to confirm his suspicion.
"I'm sorry." Stuart turned to Kat, "It was really last minute. I knew you two have a wedding to plan, so I wanted to do this as early as possible."
Kat shifted her attention to Michael, "Ever since he's come here. We haven't had any time together. Wherever we go, he's been there. Whenever I see you, he's been there." She reached a hand up to Michael's shoulder. "When you get back. We need time without him."
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I—"
"Don't apologize. Be better." Her eyes narrowed as she squeezed his shoulder "I'm going to interrogate you when you get back, so don't do anything stupid." She flashed a smile that was immediately followed by another glare.
"When I get back, we'll go somewhere special. I promise. I'll make it up to you." Michael reached his hands to Kat's waist. He leaned his head towards hers.
Kat immediately released his shoulder and backed out of his grip, "Be better." She repeated.
"Michael, our ride is here," Stuart interjected, snapping Michael back to reality. Michael followed Stuart's point to the school's afternoon pickup-line. A black luxury sedan was sitting at the end of the row.
"I'll make it up to—" Michael turned to see Kat twenty feet away, walking with every bit of attitude she'd approached him with. "I'll make it up to you, I love you." He shouted.
"Isn't she lovely," Stuart muttered under his breath.
With each step, Michael's pulse rushed a bit faster. The noise of the kids seemed to blur in the background. His eyes were focused on the sedan, and whatever dread it would lead him to.
As they approached, a woman stepped from the car. "It's nice to see you again, Mr. Sinclair." Christine gave a slight bow as she opened the rear door.
Michael nodded as Stuart stepped around to the opposite side of the vehicle. They climbed into the back seat. Christine looked down at Michael, and for just a moment, their eyes met. She gave a sympathetic nod and closed the door.