Chapter 9
A few days pass in this cat and mouse dance that Steven puts me through. He would show up and flirt, I would hiss back. But even I could see that I had started to cave.
As I drove to work that morning, I felt Gertha sputter again.
Worried, I open the hood when I get to school and let out a sigh when I realize she might need to go to the shop again.
Christmas was around the corner and if I handed in Gertha for a tuning, there was no way I would get it before Christmas.
I slam the hood shut and grab my things out of the back seat before making my way to the class.
“Miss Johnson, a word.”
Running into Collin first thing in the morning was not how I wanted my day to start off.
Wondering how much trouble I was in for snapping at a parent, and a rich one at that, I follow him into his office.
He doesn’t sit down, his hands fidgeting.
I wonder what’s wrong with him.
“Am I in trouble, Mr. Collin?” I ask, hesitantly. “If this is about Mr. Tanner, I- “
“What?” He asks, in a distracted manner. “Ah, no. It’s great that you’re looking after his son after school. It’s good PR.”
I rock back on the balls of my feet, “Then?”
He blushes.
He actually blushed.
“I just wanted – I mean, I was wondering –“
I tuck my tongue in my cheeks and ask in a blunt manner, “Is this about Scarlett?”
When his face turns even redder, I let out an even breath, “She’s single, if you’re wondering.”
Collin shifts on his feet, “Ah, do you think she’d be interested in – If I were to ask her out, would she be receptive?”
I wonder at that.
Collin and Scarlett were worlds apart.
“I think she would. I’ll have to ask her.”
He looks so relieved that I feel a little awkward, “Is that all? Because I need to get to my class.”
“Yeah, yeah. That was it. Uh, thank you.”
I massage my temples as I exit his office.
I hoped Scarlett knew what she was doing.
I was conducting a pop-quiz today, but since it wasn’t a written quiz, my class was pretty excited. Watching group after group come and recite their lines and act out characters from Macbeth, I had to stop a few of those who got a little too enthusiastic.
One of the boys decided to sing out his portion of the lines and that was the note on which the class ended today.
Aaron shows up, and not so soon after, his father follows.
But Scarlett’s words roam in my head as I stare at Steven.
She was wrong.
It wasn’t that Steven was intense that made me wary. It was the fact that this man had the potential of breaking my heart.
I stare at the adorable looking wicker basket he places in front of me.
“What’s this?”
“It’s for you.” He tells me.
“Why?” The word slips from my lips.
A part of me was baffled. I had never been wooed like this. Men didn’t go around buying me things.
As I lift the beautiful pattered cloth that covered the contents of the basket, I see a mixture of muffins.
My heart melts.
“Because you like muffins,” He says, simply.
I stare up at him, not knowing how to react to that.
“T-thank you.”
When his lips curve, I find myself fighting a blush. When he cocks his hip against my desk, “So, Abby. How has your day been?”
I shrug, “Okay.”
This was new.
My hair was open, out of it’s bun, and he takes a strand and starts curling it around his finger, making me stiff.
But I couldn’t stop him.
I didn’t want to.
“What happened?” He asks playing with my brown strands, his eyes watching the bounce with a fascination all men had with long hair.
I rack my brains, trying to recall the details of my day, but I keep getting distracted with how he is twirling my hair around those thick fingers that would feel so much better if they were being inserted into my –
“Abby?”
When I look up, startled out of my thoughts, there is a smirk on his lips which tell me that he has seen the flash of desire on my face.
I blush so hard, “Sorry, I was distracted.”
Before Steven could say anything, Aaron chimes in, “Miss Abby, how will you carry all this to your car?”
He was gesturing toward the posters that the students had handed in. I wanted to spend the weekend grading them.
I blink, “Uh, I guess I’ll carry them.”
“We can help, can’t we, Dad?”
Steven walks over and picks up a bunch of the rolled chart papers, “Let’s go then.”
I fidget awkwardly, “Thank you.”
The walk to the car was short, but when I see the way Steven eyes my car, I feel a twinge of annoyance, “Can you not do that?”
“Do what?” He asks, innocently.
I put my hands on my hips, using a mild tone for Aaron’s benefit, “Look at my car as if it’s a piece of junk.”
“I can’t help it if it is.” He shrugs.
I wanted to say something, but the last thing I wanted was for Aaron to witness an argument.
“Is that smoke?” The child in question, asks.
“What?!” I dump the posters on the spot and race around the car to see the engine emitting small amounts of smoke.
“Stay back, Aaron,” I warn as I pop open the hood.
“You stay back as well,” Steven frowns. “That looks dangerous.”
I give him a scornful look, “I’ve been taking care of Gertha since I bought her. I know what I’m doing.”
I look for the source of the smoke, ignoring the annoyance on his face. Things seem a little out of tune, but nothing that a little visit to the mechanic wouldn’t fix.
However, when my eyes land on the essential gray part of the car engine, my heart sinks.
I groan, “The capacitor is fried.”
When Steven makes a small noise, I turn my head, glaring at him, “I’m sorry. Do you have something to say?”
He coughs, delicately, “Not at all. Why don’t we give you a ride back?”
I open my mouth to say I’d call a cab when I realize I have forgotten my wallet at home.
Sighing, I close the hood with an audible snap, “I would appreciate that.”
Steven’s car was a beautiful black jaguar, and I blink, “I thought your car was in the shop.”
His hand slip around my elbow as he steers me toward the passenger seat, “That was the other one.”
I let Aaron clamber into the backseat, all the while gaping at his father, “How many cars do you own?”
“Dad has a lot of cars!” Aaron pipes up. “Our garage is this big!”
I smile weakly at the way the boy tries to widen his arms to show me.
I hand over the muffin basket to him, to keep it next to him in the backseat. As I lean back to adjust the seat, my back brushes with Steven’s front and I couldn’t contain my shiver.
He must have felt it, too, because I saw the pleased smile on his lips when he closes the door after me.
He slides smoothly into the driver’s seat and I fastened my seatbelt.
“Aaron. Seatbelt.”
The boy grumbles, but when I eye him in the rear-view mirror, he quickly snaps it shut around himself.
“That’s impressive,” Steven tells me, and I realize how compact this car was, as his shoulder brush against mine. “I didn’t even have to threaten him.”
I didn’t get a chance to respond to that because Aaron chimes, “Dad, can we have something to eat first? I’m starving!”
I eye the crumbs around his mouth, and the half-eaten muffin in his pocket, and wonder what he was up to.
Steven glances at me, a question in his eyes, and I shrug, “I could eat.”
As the car roars away, I meet Aaron’s eyes in the rear-view mirror and see a calculating look in them.
Just what was this child planning?