The Maplethorn Initiative (Book 1, The Maplethorn Series)

Mrs. Lashton

Cam was sitting on the edge of a costly and uncomfortable chair when his phone buzzed. He slid it out of the pocket of his gray dress pants and looked at the screen.

"You'll be okay," Prita texted. "My mom rocks!"

"Mr. and Mrs. Drexler?" a woman asked. "I'm Niharika Lashton." Despite many years spent living in the United States, her voice still carried an accent that gave her words a sing-song effect. Mrs. Lashton had the same dark, intelligent eyes as her daughter, and her lengthy, black hair was twisted into a braid. She wore a curve-hugging gray skirt and matching low-cut jacket that left Cam wondering if she was wearing anything underneath.

"That is Prita's mother!" he scolded himself. "And she's way old. She has to be at least forty."

Niharika Lashton, whose first name Prita once said means "admired for looks," was two years into her fifties, and spent a good deal of money to ensure her real age remained a mystery. She offered a warm smile and a well-manicured hand to Cam's father.

Congressman David Drexler returned her smile along with his best vote-for-me handshake. His clean-shaven face was prematurely lined—a side effect of a career in politics—and he had exceptionally thick, brown hair that, according to his critics, received more attention than any of his constituents. "Thank you for meeting with us, Mrs. Lashton. I know this isn't exactly your forte."

"It's true that I specialize in corporate law," she said. "But between you and me, most corporations are not that different from high school."

The remark helped to ease some tension, and Cam's parents each let out a polite chuckle.

"And please," she continued, shaking Mrs. Drexler's hand as well. "Call me Niha."

"It's lovely to meet you, Niha," Cam's mother replied.

Paula Drexler fit the mom stereotype a little better. She was comfortable with middle age and didn't rely on anything other than blonde hair dye to turn back the clock. Although in her college days, she would have given Mrs. Lashton a run for her money.

"And it's good to finally meet you, Cam," Niharika said, this time choosing a nod over a handshake.

"Yeah. Thanks," Cam answered. "Um, good to meet you too."

Mrs. Lashton led the Drexler family through an office maze that ended in a small conference room dominated by an oblong table and six chairs. The room had windows on two sides, with one set looking into the corridor they just came from and the other providing a view of angular, glass buildings and blue sky. A pitcher of water sat in the center of the table, along with four carefully arranged glasses. An open laptop and a yellow paper tablet waited on the far side.

Gracefully slipping into her chair, Mrs. Lashton closed the computer and slid a gold pen from the pages of the tablet. "Everyone, please take a seat," she said, gesturing to the chairs that faced the city.

Cam's father smoothed his tie as he sat, guiding the end into his suit coat. "So, what's the game plan?"

"Everything we do today is very informal and off the record," Niharika replied gently. "I want to get to know Cam a little better and hear what happened from his point of view." She trained her eyes on Cameron Drexler. "I'd like you to start at the beginning and tell me everything that happened, please, Cameron."

Cam stared down at the tabletop. The words just wouldn't come.

Eventually, David Drexler broke the silence. "It's that teacher's doing."

"Please, Mr. Drexler," Niha said with disarming politeness. "I need to hear this in Cameron's own words." She poured a glass of water and set it in front of her client. "Tell me about your teacher, Cam. What is his name?"