Fringe Benefits Read Online Free

voice. “Here’s a piece of hard-earned advice. Take it one day at a time, Nate. First year is difficult enough without preparing too far ahead. Get things ready for the next school day, and we’ll work together on helping you have lesson plans scheduled for a week or so at a time.”
    “Awesome. I feel so scattered. I’d resigned myself to not teaching this year.”
    She pulled a chair away from the table, spun it to face the copier, and took a seat. “I’m rather amazed you were even available. I saw your transcripts and your résumé. Can’t believe some other school didn’t snap you up.”
    “Yeah, well… it’s a little harsh out there right now. School budgets are tight. I had interviews, but… the master’s degree didn’t work in my favor. They have to pay me more.” He shrugged as he picked up a stack of finished copies from the output tray, loaded a new project into the scanner, and hit the start button. “Soon as this is done, the copier’s yours.”
    Dani wasn’t in a hurry. Something about watching him relaxed her. A rare talent. He’d ditched the suit jacket, loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves. His forearms were sublime. Tan, muscled, and covered with light hair that looked so soft she wanted to stroke it like a cat’s fur.
    With his back to her, she had a hard time not staring at his slim hips and squeezable butt. The only thing that prevented her from doing so was the mesmerizing width of his shoulders. “Distracting” didn’t come close to describing Nate Ryan. Did he lift weights? Jog?
    It would be great if he was a runner. Maybe they could run together in the mornings and…
    She gave her head a shake. Not only was he closer to her students’ ages than hers, but she’d also vowed never to get involved with someone at work. When Juliana had taught at Douglas High, so had her ex-husband. The Ladies heard more than their share of how miserable it was to have to see someone from a past relationship every weekday. Dani wasn’t about to think of spending unnecessary time with Nate, even if he managed to notice her as something more than his new department head.
    “We have a fantastic workout room,” she said, trying to keep herself focused. “And the indoor track’s open year-round if you jog.”
    The copier sputtered to a halt. Nate checked the small control screen. “Damn. Out of toner.”
    “Oh, no worries.” She grabbed the lanyard holding her keys. “I’ll get some from the supply closet and switch out the cartridge.”
    “Wait, I thought you said I wasn’t supposed to do anything to the copier like add toner or clear a jam.”
    “I did.” She moved to the door of the large supply closet and unlocked it.
    “You said there was a secretary who handled all copier emergencies, that I should let her know.”
    “I said that, too. But she’s not here. No one is, and I’m not letting that stupid rule keep me from being ready for tomorrow. Besides, it was mostly for the idiots who think they know how to fix problems and don’t. I do.” The supply closet was fairly large, and finding something in it was akin to the quest for the Holy Grail. But the copier needed toner, and she needed to get her work done so she could go home and try to get some sleep.
    Nate followed her. “Anything else in there I might be able to use?”
    “Definitely. That’s why the closet’s locked. Jim likes for us to beg for stuff we need. Grab some dry-erase markers,” she replied, habitually kicking the plastic stop under the open door and beginning the search for toner. “If you can find any. Damn. Someone rearranged everything.” Her gaze flitted along shelves, finding nothing really useful. No dry-erase markers. No hall passes. And definitely no toner cartridges. Just pile after pile of old carbon paper discipline slips no one used anymore and school stationery that dated back to before the school logo changed ten years ago. “See any toner?”
    His back was to her, but she could