Free Austensibly Ordinary by Alyssa Goodnight Page A

cupped my chin in his hand, and brushed his thumb slowly and deliberately over my upper lip before letting his fingers slide away. My heart pounded and my breathing slowed, and as our eyes met, I wondered how best to respond to this seductive development.
    James Bond’s MO was not an option—I wasn’t ready to seduce him just yet. As a woman with a secret and a flair for the dramatic, I decided to play it cool . . . cagey . . . and leave him wanting more.
    Reaching for my bag, I got slowly to my feet, bent at the waist in my high heels and pencil skirt, licked a bit of moisture onto my lips, and slid a marginally wet kiss across his cheek. Hampered by the wheelchair, he was slow in scrambling to his feet, and I was three steps on my way to the door, calling back over my shoulder, “You have my number.”
    I skipped half the way to my car, thrilled with the evening’s success—even the powdered sugar had led to a whopper of a cliffhanger. I couldn’t wait to “go rogue” all over again. And I was definitely going to need a theme song.
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    My phone didn’t ring until I’d switched back to normal and was settled in on the couch, ready to delve into the mysteries of the Trailer Park Journal all over again. My real phone, that is, not the burner. I’d hidden the burner at the bottom of the bowl of Dum-Dum lollipops on my coffee table. I figured it was Ethan asking for a favor or wanting to remind me not to leave too many Internet browsers open on my classroom computer. But a tiny little girlish part of me wondered impossibly if, just maybe, it was Jake Tielman, itching to say good night. It wasn’t either one of them. Syd had dialed me up, wanting to know why I’d left in such a hurry.
    â€œYou didn’t get sick, did you? Tell me that’s not what happened. Was it having to eat poultry with those creepy-ass birds draped from the ceiling? For the record, I voted against that.”
    â€œNo, Syd,” I assured her, my eyes falling closed on a wave of tiredness, “it wasn’t food or décor-related, but those creepy-ass birds didn’t make it easy. I left because it was almost midnight, and I need to work tomorrow.”
    â€œYeah, okay, I get that,” she said. “So what’d you think? How’d we do on the homage?”
    â€œStellar, Syd. Honestly. It was creepy, and sexy, and super stylish. I loved how only half the guests came in character—it made things quirky and interesting. Even more than they already were. Seriously, it was awesome. Was there anyone there from The Chronicle?”
    â€œI think maybe one dude, and then a food writer for the Statesman.”
    â€œIt’s gonna be a great write-up,” I said, hoping to wrap things up.
    â€œAnd what about you, showing up in that dress?! Hot damn, Cate . . . or should I say, Cat? What happened with the guy? The two of you were very private over in the corner by yourselves.”
    â€œWe flirted shamelessly. I’m sure you and your minions got an eyeful. But I came home alone. He went home with my phone number. We’ll see.”
    â€œThis is going to be really good for you, Cate. I feel it.”
    â€œCould I ask a favor?” I begged.
    â€œName it.”
    â€œCould you not mention the alter ego to anyone?” Specifically Ethan, but honestly, I didn’t want the gossip getting around, particularly back to the high school. It would be so much worse this time around. Being a teacher with a juicy secret was a little bit thrilling. Having the secret get out . . . not so much. My face was clenched, waiting for her response.
    â€œIt’s in the vault, baby! Oh! Gotta go—apparently I’m supposed to be helping clean up.”
    Letting out an all-encompassing sigh, I dropped the phone and focused on my quirky and interesting journal. I tapped the end of my pen on the cover in a quick, nervous tattoo. Far from being turned off by the