Some chat and more information

"I need more coffee," Mason declares. "Anyone else?" The rest of the table agrees, with Donna and Brian offering to help carry cups back.

"Sit down," Mason waves away the offer of assistance as he walks towards the buffet line. "They have trays over there. I'll be right back."

"That's quite the breakfast spread they lay out," you observe. "Is it like this everyday, or is this special for the first day of classes."

"Every day," Lorri answers. "Breakfast and lunch are buffet style, and dinner is more like a table d'hôte menu. Your choice of three multi-course meals."

"I didn't expect anything like this."

"It's amazing what you can do when there's no shortage of cash," Donna says. "Besides, if you tried to serve some of these girls your standard school cafeteria meals half of them would riot and the other half would have nervous breakdowns."

"At the meeting last night there was mention of a social with some other school," Brian says. "What's that about."

"The Introductory Ball," Donna snorts. "That's it's official name, although no one calls it that. It's a mixer with the boys from Hamilton school, which is a male equivalent of this place about 60 miles away. Back in the old days it used to be a formal ball, but now it's just a party. It dates from, oh hell, from back when the schools were founded in the nineteenth century as far as I know."

You remember that the boys that 'raided' Chanel's lakeside party were from Hamilton. This might well have possibilities, and you remind yourself to give it more thought.

"So the Hamilton boys are more rich kids?"

"You don't think our elite young ladies would go associating with no blue collar riff-raff do you?" Lorri chuckles. "Not unless they're in the mood for slumming. Some of them get an appetite for the working class and try to slake it on the gardeners and maintenance guys. Walked in on a girl sucking off two gardeners last year, and she's not the first to do that. That and more. Won't be the last either."

"What did you do?" Brian asked.

"Told them to find a better spot, and warned the gardeners that they should be smarter. These girls are pretty much all legal, and I'm not in the business of getting a working man fired. It's not like they were forcing her."

"Some of them are going to make a play for you guys," Donna warns. "And they won't be subtle about it either. Personally, I don't much care about it, as long as nobodies getting coerced, but there are people here who would use it as an excuse for crucifixion." As she speaks she looks meaningfully at a group of some of the other faculty members breakfasting further down the table.

"But not these two," Lorri laughs beckoning two younger teachers. You recognise Monica Fulton, the language teacher who showed you around campus the day you arrived, and Christina Thorpe, the music teacher. The two pretty women join the table, Monica giving each of you a flashing grin, while Christina is slightly more reserved.

"Mr. Sharp, I'm very disappointed in you," Monica scolds you with a smile. "You mentioned having lunch together when I showed you around on Saturday, and I sat by the phone all yesterday waiting for your call. I must have made a terrible first impression."

"I'm very sorry," you apologise, giving her your most charming smile. "Things sort of got away on me. Please allow me to make it up to you."

"Well, I suppose I can forgive you this one time," she laughs, tossing her hair and smiling at you.

"Now speaking of girls who will make a play for you," Lorri says, tilting her head towards Monica and giving both you and Brian a wink. Monica makes a face and lightly slaps Lorri's meaty arm.

"Lorri, don't be mean!" she giggles. "You'll give these men the wrong impression."

"Uh huh," the black woman answers flatly, then grins broadly and pats Monica's hand. "I'm just messin' with you girl. Good to see you again. And you too Tina. You play last night?"

"Saturday. At the Red Falcon," the music teacher says. "Mr. Watts came along. He even sat in for a couple of numbers. He blows a pretty mean blues harp."

You notice Brian flush and mumble something unclear as all eyes at the table turn to him, and you have the sense that more passed between him and the striking Ms. Thorpe than just music.

"Looks like Mason is leading a parade," Brian says with a grin, changing the subject and looking towards the buffet tables. You turn to see the older teacher leading a line of three girls towards you. A lithe brunette carries a try full of coffee cups and she's followed by two ripe and curvy teens, all of them grinning happily, while Mason looks bemused.