Free Bad Heiress Day by Allie Pleiter Page B

bigwig at the art museum, isn’t she?”
    “From the looks of her walls, she sure is.” Darcy leaned in. “She was so…cool. She launches all these incredible projects and mentors people and looks so happy and…you just want to hate her but she’s too nice to hate.”
    “Must be nice.”
    “She’s done such amazing things with what she’s got. She can look back on her life and tell me story after storyof people she’s helped, things she’s done, differences she’s made in people’s lives.”
    “And you want that.”
    Darcy stopped and stared at Kate. Want. Yes, she wanted that. She wanted what Glynnis had, what Glynnis did, how Glynnis changed her world. Even though she’d felt the emotion, and had even expressed something like that to Jack last night, Kate had somehow nailed it. Kate always nailed it. “Yeah,” she said softly, surprised at the hurt in her own voice, “I want that.”
    The women sat in silence for a moment. “Did you tell Glynnis about your idea? The Restoration Project?”
    “No, I wasn’t ready to for some reason. You’re the only one who knows.” Darcy pressed her fingers to her brow. “I don’t know, Kate, it sounds so stupid. It’s not like you can change the world with a good haircut.”
    Kate got a sassy look on her face. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Don might argue with you there.”
    “Don enjoyed the new do huh?”
    “I got two whole compliments yesterday. He can’t seem to stop touching my hair.”
    Darcy gaped at her. Don wasn’t exactly a man given to compliments and hair touching. This was high praise, indeed.
    Kate tossed her hair like a shampoo ad. “And I owe it all to Darcy Nightengale and the wonders of The Restoration Project,” she added with infomercial-quality enthusiasm. “Maybe I need to give a testimonial to Jack.”
    Darcy sent her a mock glare. “You stay away from Jack.” She took a sip of tea. “He did hip-check me yesterday in the Bidwells’ driveway.”
    “Hip-check?” Kate’s eyebrows furrowed a moment. “You mean that little side-bumping thing he used to doto you all the time? The thing that bugged you so much when you were dating?”
    “Yep.”
    “I thought you hated that.”
    “I thought I did, too. Until he did it yesterday. It was…I don’t know…something from another time. A piece of memory from when we were young and gushy. Instead of old and responsible.”
    Kate squinted her eyes, calculating. “So Jack hip-checked you. Okay, not exactly changing the world, but I think it qualifies as a solid spark.” She straightened in her stool and planted her hands on the table. “I think this is just going to take some time. Talk to him again. If your eyes look to him like they do to me when you talk about this idea of yours, I don’t see how he can say no. Maybe he just needs time to come around.”
    “I don’t know. Oh, Kate, maybe this whole thing is just plain stupid.”
    “No, no, Dar, it’s not. It’s not, and you’ve got the hip-checks and—” she winked “—I’ve got the hair touching to prove it. You’re onto something, girl. I know you are. You know you are. And it’s not stupid.” Kate gave Darcy her own version of a hip-check. “Promise me you’ll try to talk to him again tonight, will you?”
    Darcy nodded as the phone rang.
    Kate grabbed her purse and took a couple of gulps of tea for the road. She mouthed “See you” and waved over her shoulder as she let herself out the back door. Darcy picked up the receiver.
    “Mrs. Nightengale, this is George Tortman at Nichols School.” Tortman, Tortman. Darcy strove to place the name. Torture Man. The kids called him Mr. Torture Man.
    Because he was the Dean of Discipline at Nichols Middle School. Now what?
    Darcy forced her voice to sound casual and upbeat. “Good afternoon, Mr. Tortman. What can I do for you?” More like, What are you going to do to me, Torture Man? Surely no good could come from a call like this.
    “I need to speak to you