Chapter 3
Bash
Friday has dreadfully came. The whole school was decorated with art made by the students. Each art represented how thankful they are to have a mother. I sat with the other parents as we all waited for the program to start.
I couldn’t help but glance at my phone from time to time. Although, my faith in Isabella is not even very little but the way that Sophie hoped her mother would come had me in hopes too.
I saw students running back and forth on the stage getting the whole program started. My poor lovely Sophie stood at the side of stage, her eyes glued to the entrance door. I could see her tight grip on her script. She was supposed to deliver her speech with her mother. She even sent a copy to Isabella but I doubt that Isabella took even a glance at it.
Then my eyes drifted to a certain teacher. Ms. Pierce looked to be the youngest teacher in the school. Not only was she young but she was breathtakingly beautiful. I didn’t notice her beauty till she opened her mouth and spouted fire. Her hazel eyes burning with a hidden passion. Glossy black hair fell down her back like a waterfall. She had sexy curves on her body that could put her in such danger if she was closer to me.
My trance was broken as I saw Sophie slowly walk towards the podium. Her eyes still glued to the entrance door, and my heart instinctively reached out to her. When she stood at the podium she looked at the crowd and looked absolutely mortified. Damn Isabella for putting Sophie in this situation!
“Good morning… Ladies and boys… Uh… I mean gentlemen,” she nervously said. Her little mistake caused some of the crowd to chuckle and this only made her more nervous. “Me and my mom…” her quivering voice broke my heart. Her eyes were on the brink of tears.
I could see her longing stare at some of her schoolmates who were with their mother. I felt like I’ve failed her.
Before I could stand up and go to her, somebody else came to the rescue.
Ms. Pierce quickly walked up to the podium and continued the speech for Sophie. I could see a comforting hand on Sophie’s shoulder and Ms. Pierce stopped from time to time to let Sophie speak as well. Sophie looked more confident now as she delivered her speech with a smile.
And in that moment I didn’t know who stole my heart? Sophie’s smile or Ms. Pierce’s bravery. But one thing was for certain, I admired Ms. Pierce even more.
For the rest of the day Ms. Pierce has managed to not only capture my attention but also to reel in my heart. Only a handful of people were able to do so. Even with all the other teachers flaunting their attributes and wearing fancy clothes. But still the woman holding my daughters hand through the games and throughout the entire day as a stand-in-mother captured every piece of me.
Instead of worrying over Sophie and being on the phone yelling at Isabella, I watched Ms. Pierce make Sophie smile more times than I can count.
“Daddy! Look what I made,” Sophie called out as she showed a rose made out of paper. “That’s beautiful Sophie but not as beautiful as you,” I told her as I scooped her up in my arms kissing her cheeks as she squealed.
Ms. Pierce came up to us with a smile looking magnificent than the last time if that was even possible. I put Sophie down as I walked up to Ms. Pierce and said “Thank you Ms. Pierce, for what you’ve done. It means the world to me,”
She smiled and said “Please Mr. Baudelaire, call me Emma. And you’re most welcome. I’m just so glad that you’ve attended today’s event. I thought that maybe you got caught up in work,”
I chuckled and replied “I wouldn’t miss it. You can call me Sebastian or Bash for short. Is Emma short for something?”
“No, just Emma. Thank you, but I prefer Mr. Baudelaire.”
This little vixen sure knows how to pull my strings. “Dad, can we eat at my favorite French restaurant?” Sophie asked as she played with the paper rose in her hands. I looked down at my lovely Sophie and I thank the great being above that she looks more like me than her own mother except for the piercing blue eyes.
“Yes sweetie,” I said.
“Can Ms. Pierce come with us?”
The question not only startled Emma but me as well. If it were up to me, I’d take Emma out to dinner every single day. But to know that my little Sophie wants Emma to come opens up a whole new direction in my life.
“Well, she can come that’s if her boyfriend agrees—”
“I don’t have a boyfriend. And dinner would be lovely,” Emma corrected me.
After collecting all of the art that’s made by Sophie, we headed towards Sophie’s favorite French restaurant. The three of us sat at a table, with Emma and Sophie sitting next to each other while I sat in front of them.
Once we were done ordering which I ordered in perfect French, I couldn’t help but feel smug at Emma’s surprised look.
“You know French?” she asked. I smiled as Sophie answered for me. “Oui, nous sommes français après tout.” I chuckled at Sophie’s horrible French accent and told Emma “She said, yes, we are French after all. Baudelaire is actually an old French name,”
Throughout the whole evening I got to know more and more about Emma. As she learned about Isabella and some of my achievements in life which Sophie spoke ‘Your achievements are so boring.’
Emma even spoke of her passion for teaching and children. And it got me thinking that all this time looking for a mother figure for my dear Sophie, I’ve tried nurses, doctors, lawyers, and even chefs but I’ve never dated a teacher before. Not only was she extremely pleasing to the eyes but she adores children as well.
Still even after glasses of wine and sparkling wine for Sophie, we had polite conversations but even Emma being polite she was a fiery vixen. She always made sure to correct me and she always reminded me how irresponsible I am. And this only made me want her more.
Right as we dropped Emma off at her house I had to ask her, “Emma, are you free this weekend?” Which she seemed startled by the question.
“For what Mr. Baudelaire?” Time and time again I told her through the night to call me Sebastian or Bash but she refused. “I was wondering if we could get acquainted with each other. Maybe over a glass of wine at dinner or maybe we can go to the art gallery,” I suggested a few ideas in my head for a date.
Emma smiled as she said “I think we’re acquainted enough Mr. Baudelaire. I’m also not free this weekend. I’m very busy.”
“Maybe some other time then,” I said as I didn’t want to push her. She smiled once more and said her goodbyes to Sophie and disappeared behind her front door.
Either way, I was going to see Emma this weekend.