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“Sorry!” Stella held up her hands in mock surrender. “Your pregnant dress is real pretty. I love that shade of yellow. Truce?”

Amelia laughed. “Truce. But it’s called a maternity dress. I’m the one who’s preggers—not my dress.”

Richard Hale, principal of Will Rogers High School, under-tipped the bellhop and then made a shooing motion at the little group. “Let’s go! Load up.”

“I’m sitting in the back with Mercury and Stella,” said Jenny as she climbed up into the rear bench seat of the rented SUV.

The principal frowned disapprovingly while the three women slid into the seat before he offered Karen Gay his hand and helped her into the center bucket seat.

“Why, thank you, Mr. Hale. I do appreciate a true gentleman,” Karen said primly.

Then the principal turned his frown on the pregnant teacher. “I suppose you still have to ride in the front seat.”

Amelia’s cheeks went pink. “I really can’t help it. I’m always travel sick when I’m pregnant. It’s better in the front seat.”

“Amelia can sit back here with us,” Mercury called. “But she’ll probably puke.”

“We don’t mind, though,” Jenny said.

“Fuckin’ A we don’t! Come on back here with the cool kids!” added Stella.

Predictably, Stella’s language made Mr. Hale wince. “No, it’s fine. Ride up front. Coach Davis! Move back. I’m driving.”

“No problem. You’re our boss,” said the coach. He climbed from the driver’s seat to the empty bucket seat behind it and nodded politely to Karen before he winked at the women behind him.

Mercury hated that Coach Davis referred to Hale as their “boss.” The truth was that a principal is an administrator—not an employer. The school board actually did the hiring and firing—of principals as well as teachers—but she winked back at him and Stella blew him a kiss, which made the amiable coach grin. Then Mercury startled as someone rapped on the SUV’s window, but as soon as she focused on the person—an athletically attractive woman whose tawny beige skin radiated health and whose thick, raven curls perfectly framed her smile—she quickly lowered her window.

“Imani! I missed you at breakfast,” Mercury grinned back at her.

“And I missed you at the bar,” added Stella.

Imani’s laugh was deep and filled with joy. “Oh, honey, you know sleeping with the bartender doesn’t mean you were actually at the bar, right?”

Stella smoothed back her hair. “We stopped by the bar. Afterward. So he could make me a goodbye mimosa.”

“You’re nasty,” said Imani. “Which is why I like you.”

Mercury cleared her throat expectantly.

Imani laughed again. “You’re nasty too, even if you aren’t the cradle robber your bestie is.”

“That’s only because she’s older.” Mercury paused. “But I do aspire to be her when I grow up.”

Stella spoke around her friend. “You want to squish in here? We’re heading to the Portland airport.”

“Nah, but thanks. I booked an afternoon flight back to San Diego so that I’d have time for a little hike before I had to leave.” She gazed up at Mount Hood, stretching white and majestic behind them. “I do love me some San Diego, but sometimes I crave snow and mountains and all this raw nature.”

Mercury shivered. “Ugh. Snow. Ugh. Nature. You can have both. Hey, don’t forget to email me your botany lesson plan for that cool photosynthesis lab.”

“I won’t forget,” Imani said. “And you two remember you promised to take a road trip to San Diego this summer and stay with me.”

Stella flipped her hair. “Are you kidding? No way we’re forgetting. Lots of military men stationed there, and my summer mission is to find Mr. Right Now—hello!”

“We are leaving!” Mr. Hale shouted from the driver’s seat as he put the SUV in gear.

Imani jumped back as Mercury and Stella waved.

“I hate it when Dicky acts douchey in front of other teachers,” Mercury muttered to Stella, who nodded as she sipped her coffee and Kahlúa.


Tags: P. C. Cast Into the Mist Fantasy