The Billionaire Janitor Is Back! novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: Section Four
In front of 140 parents her ex-husband says the board will oust her unless she has a husband by December 12; Edie answers him, walks out, and asks the school janitor to marry her.
My ex-husband waited until the gym was full to ruin me.
There were a hundred and forty parents on folding chairs and a banner that said Welcome to Lindenmere Day School.
I was standing by the juice table in my good cardigan, counting heads for the open evening.
Wendell Baskin walked to the microphone.
He did not own it yet.
"Thank you all for coming," he said, in the warm voice he used on bank managers.
"As chair of your board, I owe you honesty tonight."
I put down my paper cup.
"Lindenmere was founded in 1931 under a charter," he said.
"Section four says the Head must be a person of settled household."
A few parents nodded.
Wendell smiled at me across the gym.
"The founders meant a married woman with a home to anchor the school."
"Our Head has been divorced three years, and she lives in that lodge alone."
Someone in the third row whispered.
I heard it clearly. "Oh, that's why."
"I was married to Edie for five years," Wendell said, softer now, sorry.
"I love her. But this school needs stability."
"The board will vote on December twelfth whether she can lead it."
He let the silence sit.
"If she isn't settled by then, we sell the grounds to a developer who will keep the name on a plaque."
"I've seen the numbers. It's the kindest outcome."
The developer was him.
Every parent who had ever signed a tuition check was looking at me.
My face went hot and my hands went cold.
For one second I was thirty-three again, standing in my own kitchen while he explained why the house was his.
Then I remembered I had nine years in these halls and a lot of children's names to keep.
I walked to the microphone and held out my hand.
Wendell gave it to me, because every eye in the gym was on him.
"Thank you, Wendell," I said. "That was very clear."
"Edie, I only want what's best."
"I know exactly what you want."
I turned to the gym.
"Section four says settled household," I said.
"It doesn't say how long, and it doesn't say you get to pick the husband."
A father in the back laughed, one short bark.
Wendell's smile thinned.
"Then you'll have one by the twelfth?" he said. "I'd love to meet him."
"You will meet him Monday," I said. "I will have one by Monday."
I heard my own voice say it, and I did not take it back.
The gym went so quiet I could hear the radiator knock.
I walked out through the side doors with my chin up and my knees shaking, and nobody stopped me.
The east corridor was dark except for one yellow wet-floor sign.
I leaned against the trophy case and breathed.
I had no husband, no boyfriend and no plan.
Down the hall, a mop bucket rolled over the tile.
Our custodian was working his way along the baseboards, as he did every Friday night while the building emptied.
He was a big man, six foot four, in navy coveralls with a patch over the pocket that said Mal.
His head was shaved, and his beard had gone grey at the chin.
He never hurried, and he never missed a corner.
Nineteen months he had worked here, and he had never once asked me for anything.
He lifted the mop out of the bucket and wrung it with both hands.
The old burn scar on the back of his left hand shone under the light.
I knew that scar.
"Ms. Marsden," he said, without looking up. "You're missing your own party."
"It isn't mine."
"I heard."
The gym doors were thick, but the vents carry sound.
He leaned the mop against the wall and wiped his palms on a rag.
His eyes were pale grey and steady, and they had no pity in them, which was why I said it.
"Mal, I need a husband by Monday."
He didn't laugh.
"Are you asking me to fix the boiler?"
"I'm asking you to marry me."
The radiator knocked again.
He looked at me for a long moment, and I looked back and did not blink.
"Ma'am," he said slowly. "Do you know what you're asking for?"
I did.
I had known exactly who I was asking since the first week he came.
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