“You wanted to see me?” Amy poked her head into the Principal’s office.

“Miss Harris. Come on in.” He closed the file he’d been reading and folded his hands on top of it. “Have a seat.”

Had she done something wrong? She’d gotten permission to investigate the greenhouse before she started. The bids for the work were coming in well under the amounts of the grants she was applying for. And Paige’s suggestions—and offers to help—had been well received. At least, she thought they had. She offered a weak smile.

The principal cleared his throat. “I’ve never been one to talk around an issue, so I’m just going to come out with it. They’re cancelling the after school program. You’ll finish out the next week and then, when we go on holiday break, your position will no longer exist.”

The floor dropped out from under her. “I don’t...but how...what...?”

He held up a hand. “I understand this appears sudden, but the number of students taking advantage of the program has been steadily diminishing and the Chancellor feels our school would be better off allocating the funding elsewhere.”

Amy swallowed. The funding. Like there was some magic pile of money she was hoarding to herself. The funding meant her salary and her tiny budget for supplies. He’d been speaking and she missed it. Now he was looking at her expectantly and she had no clue what he’d asked. “I’m sorry, I missed that?”

He smiled, concern evident in his eyes. “I asked if, given your educational background, you’d be willing to come on staff as a history and theater teacher? We don’t have a need, currently, for a full-time teacher of either, but I believe there’s enough justification for a split position.”

Teach history? She could do it. And if it meant reviving the drama program...kids would sign up. There was no question about that. She and Terri could possibly put together a spring play. Maybe a musical. Possibilities started racing through her head. And even if the after school program was gone, the government still wanted the nutrition focus, so maybe... “Do you think we could still keep the greenhouse program?”

His eyebrows shot up. “If you want. That’d be on your own time, of course. But since you were looking at grants, I don’t see why not. Though I suppose I’m a little surprised.”

Amy shrugged. “I’ve put a lot of work into it...and I think it’d be good for the kids.”

“And that is why I fought to get this new position to offer you. We need teachers like you and Mr. Wilson who are truly invested in our students.” His eyes glinted with amusement.

She fought the desire to hunch her shoulders. He knew. Of course he knew, everyone knew. But he hadn’t said anything overt so...it was probably okay.

“I’m afraid though I’ll need a decision about the teaching position today. Since I had the job created, if I can’t fill it in house, I’ll have to advertise it and actually hire someone. This time I’m not going to be able to get away with leaving the opening on the website. There would, of course, be a pay raise commensurate with your additional responsibilities.”

“I think I’d like that. Yes.”

He grinned and offered her the file folder he’d been looking through when she came in. “You’ll find everything you need in here. If you could sign the contract and get it back to me before close of business, I’d like to have everything in order before the weekend.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

He held her gaze. “Thank you¸ Miss Harris. You really are an asset to our faculty. I’m looking forward to having you on in a more active role.”

Clutching the folder, Amy left the Principal’s office and stopped in the hallway. Had she really just agreed to teach full-time? She smiled. Maybe it wasn’t full-time drama, but even mixing in history wouldn’t be a bad thing. She opened the folder and skimmed the contract. American history. Even better. Everyone knew Mr. Lindo preferred teaching world history. Offloading American onto her was probably the only way he would’ve agreed with someone barging in on his territory. She had a momentary pang for the long-term sub who had been covering the classes, but it passed.

She grinned and checked her watch. Where was Zach? She needed to tell him.

“Hey, Teach.” Zach stood and held out his hand to Amy as she approached the pew. He leaned over to give her a quick kiss as she scooted past him to the space he’d saved.

“I did do some teaching before, you know.” Amy chuckled and sat.

“He’s inordinately proud of you.” Rebecca leaned around Ben and smiled. “Friday night at dinner, that’s all he could talk about. That and how amazing his new apartment is.”

Heat crawled up her neck. She’d wanted to come to dinner at Season’s Bounty with Zach, but her parents had insisted she join them for yet another celebration supper. And they’d made it clear she wasn’t to invite Zach, so she’d bowed out. They’d spent most of their Friday dinner talking about how they’d renovate the top floor of her building into a family-sized apartment and what should go where. They acted as if she and Zach were a fait accompli and...that seemed premature. Not in her mind, it was absolutely what she wanted. But did he?

“I’m sorry I missed it. My parents...”

“Yeah, he filled us in. It would’ve been nice since we all managed to make it, but next time we’ll plan ahead better and you come. Promise?” Becca pointed her finger at Amy.

Amy drew an X over her heart. “Promise.”

Zach draped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m glad you could make it out for church...though I keep thinking I should ask if I can come with you sometime. If I’m moving downtown, I don’t think I’m going to be making the commute out here every Sunday.”

She patted his leg. That was a lot for him to give up. He had a great church out here. “I’d love for you to come with me. But...if you don’t like it, there are other churches we can try. We’ll find someplace that works for both of us.”

“Thanks.” Zach squeezed her shoulders.

“Did you decide when you’re going to move in?” Amy noticed Ben and Jackson both angling their heads, as if to catch the answer.

Zach shook his head. “Not yet. Maybe during Christmas break? But...I don’t want to leave the guys in the lurch, either.”

She hadn’t considered that. The rent would still be due on his current place each month until his lease was up. Could he afford both? Her parents charged close to top dollar—not that the place wasn’t worth it, but it was potentially a challenge on a teacher’s salary. At least he didn’t have student loans to worry about. She chuckled. Who would’ve thought she’d ever think his involvement with Teach the City was a good thing?

“What’s funny?” Zach leaned closer, his voice low, as the band began the opening chords of the first song.

“I’ll tell you later.”

Amy pressed a hand to her stomach. This was it. The holiday program would be starting in twenty minutes. It’d been a long, crazy week of rehearsals—and a few last minute fittings since Rhiann’s costume had gotten too tight already. That girl was putting on baby weight fast. Of course, she’d been on the slender side already, but the woman she was staying with had clearly made it her mission to fatten the girl up.

Today had been a whirlwind, too. Between last minute props, folding the programs that the printer dropped off unfolded, despite having paid extra for that to be handled, clearing out her desk in the after school program office, and moving into her new history-slash-drama classroom, she was ready to drop. She just had to get through the program, then she could go home and take a long, hot bath.

“I hope that contented sigh was because you were thinking of me.” Zach’s voice was low in her ear.

She whirled, the jitters in her stomach transitioning from nerves to...whatever it was his proximity caused. “In this case, I was thinking of a hot bath. Sorry.”

“Ow.” He clutched a hand over his heart, though his grin gave him away. “Replaced by jets and bubbles. Though after the week you’ve had, I guess I don’t blame you. Too much.”

“Are we ready?”

Zach nodded and pulled his other hand from behind his back, to reveal a single, long-stemmed rose. “Ready and raring to go. It’s going to be great. Break a leg. I love you.”

Everything in her melted. She held the rose, her lips still buzzing from his kiss, as he skipped down the steps at the side of the stage and disappeared toward the green room. “I love you, too, Zachary Wilson.”

Amy peeked through the crack between where the stage curtain met the wall. The auditorium was beginning to fill. At least the kids wouldn’t be singing to an empty house. It might just be family members, but sometimes getting parents to come was enough of a challenge. She’d just be grateful. And if a few people from the community swung by, well, even better. She sniffed the rose and let the scent wash over her.

There was a crackle in the stage manager headset. She backed away from watching the audience and stuck the headphones on her head.

“You there, Amy?”

She flicked the switch on the cord. “Yeah, Terri. I’m here. We’re looking good.”

“Yep. I’ve got the control booth set up and am ready to hand it off. Where’s the stage manager?”

Where was he? She groaned. He should be here by now. “I’ll go check the green room. And I’ll tell the first act to get ready to take their places.”

Amy set the headphones back on their hook and skipped down the stairs, nearly running into Mikel, the scrawny boy who had agreed to stage manage. “There you are.”

“Sorry, Miz Harris. My folks decided to come at the last minute. Then Gramma wanted to come too. And if Gramma says she’s goin’ somewheres, you better believe she’s goin’. But that meant they had to take the bus, ‘cause Gramma can’t walk that far and they wanted me to ride with ‘em, like it was some fancy night. And of course the bus was late.”

Amy chuckled and dropped her hand to his shoulder. “It’s okay. You got here before we started, so we’ll call it a win. Take a deep breath and go get in place. Your clipboard’s by the headset. I’ll get the first act lined up and ready to go.”