Not only did I have to worry about

Not only did I have to worry about what happened with my brother, but now my boss was acting erratic and out of character.
When he said he would drive me, I thought he meant his driver would take us, but Jake took us down to the parking garage. He opened the door to a slate gray Bentley Continental and I climbed in, my mind dazed. I fumbled with the seatbelt and Jake took over for me, buckling me in. His fingers grazed my cheek, bringing my gaze to him.
“It’s going to be okay, Cora.”
He spoke so confidently that it eased some of my dread.
I nodded gratefully.
Once we pulled out of the garage, Jake made me recount my conversation with the principal.
He reached over and squeezed my knee in encouragement when I stumbled over my words. The touch of his big hand sent a bolt of heat racing up my thigh to my core and I flushed. Luckily, he was looking at the traffic and I sighed in relief when he put his hand back on the steering wheel.
I looked at his strong profile in bafflement. Why was he so hell bent on helping me?
Over the last few weeks, we had gotten along well, but I wouldn’t call Jake a friend. Before I had time to mull over the situation, he was pulling into the small parking lot of the school. It was a madhouse because school had just ended and students streamed out of the building. The luxury call drew many covetous glances from the male students.
“You don’t need to park! I’ll just hop out,” I hurried to say and unlatched my seatbelt.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going in with you.” He pulled into an empty parking slot.
I blinked at him owlishly. “What?”
He engaged the parking brake and turned to face me. His fingers tucked a strand of my brown hair behind my ear. His blue eyes were filled with concern. “I know you value your privacy and I respect that, but in case you need anything, I want to be there. And I’ll be on hand to take you both home.”
As I sat there stupefied by his statement, he rounded the car to open the door for me. My mind awhirl, I put my hand in his and he helped me out of the vehicle. His palm felt hot and comforting, but I released his hand immediately. This whole thing felt too intimate already.
I had been to the school for their open house, but I felt lost as soon as I entered the building. A few students were still hanging out in the hallways, but for the most part, it was empty.
“Excuse me. Could you direct us to the principal’s office?” Jake asked a teen with pierced lips and Goth makeup.
“Sure. Down the hall and make a left.” The girl didn’t even look up from her phone.
With a muttered thanks, I walked as fast as I could without breaking into a run. Jake’s long legs had no problem keeping up with me.
The door to the office was open and when I walked into the reception area, I saw my brother immediately. He sat with his shoulders slumped, holding an ice pack against his left cheek.
“Marcus,” I gasped and lunged at him, yanking him into my arms. His arms hung at his sides, not returning my hug. I stifled my hurt and pushed away to look at his face.
The area around his eye socket was red and swollen and I’d bet by tomorrow it would be a nice mélange of blue and purple. There was a small bandage right on the apple of his cheek. He refused to meet my gaze and his lips were set in a stubborn line.
“Jesus!” I raised my hand to touch the shiner but he flinched away before I could make contact. “Are you okay? What happened?”
He shrugged, remaining silent and I wanted to shake him.
“Ms. Branton?” A slender African-American woman walked out of the inner office. “I’m Laura Woodsen, the principal. We spoke on the phone.”
“Yes, it’s nice to meet you, Ms. Woodsen.” I winced at my inane comment and shook her hand.
She looked at me with a sympathetic smile. “Why don’t we go into my office?” Her eyes cut to Jake. “Oh, is this your husband?”
I almost choked on my own spit. “NO! No…” I looked at Jake who raised an amused brow. It didn’t feel right to call him something as impersonal as “boss” after he had been so considerate. “Um…this is Jake Weston. He’s a friend.”
His expression didn’t visibly change, but I sensed my statement pleased him. He shook hands with Ms. Woodsen.
Marcus’s eyes lit with interest as he looked Jake over.
The principal nodded in greeting. “Marcus, please come into my office as well.”
My brother slinked into the office, his head bowed.
Jake touched my elbow. “Go ahead. I’ll wait out here.” He folded his long frame into a chair that was clearly meant for someone much smaller. He should have looked ridiculous, but even cheap, tiny chairs could not diminish his innate elegance.
I walked into Ms. Woodsen’s office and took the seat next to Marcus. There was the familiar smell of dust and paper I remembered from my days in my school counselor’s office. The scent was apparently universal to all school administrators.
The principal sat in her chair, her bearing regal. Her dark brown eyes were somber as she folded her hands on her desk.