Page 76 of Mask and the Magnolia

”I hate to be kept waiting,” he barks as soon as his face appears. “At least you weren’t lying about being at the institution already.”

I force a smile. “Early bird and all that.”

”Don’t patronize me, Magnolia. It’s an ugly way to make yourself seem intelligent.”

I bite my tongue and wait for the next insult. He usually starts our little chats with a few of them before he finally gets to the point.

“What are you wearing?” My father squints at the screen, a look of disgust quickly forming when I respond.

“It’s just a sweater.” I fix the collar and straighten my spine. “It’s pretty modest. I try to look professional without seeming too clinical, it makes the residents more?—“

“You look like a whore in prison stripes.”

Ah yes, pulling out the big guns today.

My father smirks as he sits back in his chair, steepling his fingers on his desk. “Then again, that seems fitting since you’re working with a bunch of rabid dogs masquerading as felons in orange.”

“The residents are more comfortable opening up to me if I seem more accessible to them, more like we’re equals,” I say instead of telling him to eat shit for insulting the men I’m trying to help. And bonded to, but that’s beside the point. “They respect me because?—“

“Enough of this drivel.” The Dean waves his hand dismissively through the air. “It’s not why I’m calling. Jones fills me in on the bullshit up there, that’s the extent of what I need.”

“Okay…” Movement to my right has me itching to turn but I’m not really wanting to drag this conversation out any longer than it needs to be. It has to be distraction free. “Then what was it you were calling about?”

“Camden.”

I immediately start coughing, my body’s reflex reaction to his name to choke on nothing but the idea of that bastard existing.

“Jesus, Magnolia, get a grip on yourself,” my father says with a frown.

Sliding my chair slightly, I reach for my coffee and take a drink off camera, hoping that’s enough to help meget a grip. Nice to see he still has zero concern for my wellbeing.

Once the coughing subsides, I roll back toward the desk but when I try to stretch my legs out, they bump into something instead.

“I don’t know what that boy sees in you.”

I nod at my screen, agreeing with dear old dad as I reach down and try to move whatever is blocking my legs but it doesn’t budge.

“Camden agreeing to be your mate was an act of charity, Magnolia. You realize that don’t you?”

I continue nodding and push the chair back a little, looking under the desk then nearly having a goddamn heart attack when Isaak smirks back at me.

I knock a pen on the floor while my father flaps his gums, quickly leaning down to grab it then hiss, “What the hell are you doing?”

But he doesn’t say anything.

No, Isaak holds a finger to his lips, silently telling me to keep quiet because he’s clearly lost his mind and would like to keep it a secret. He points the same finger toward the desk above his head and I shoot up from the hunched position to avoid any unwanted questions.

Well, anymoreunwanted questions.

“Right.” I nod. “Charity.”

My father gives me a dirty look then shakes his head. “He wants to move up the wedding.“

“Oh?” I squeak out as I feel Isaak’s hands slide up my calves, over my thighs then they dip between them before he pushes my skirt up as far as he can. He hooks his fingers in the top of my panties, my heart racing as he slowly pulls them down to my ankles, tapping each one so he can take them off completely.

Oh my god, he is not really doing this right now.

Isaak palms the inside of my thighs, spreading my legs and opening me up to him completely.