He hadn’t chosen to invade her classroom, of course. He hadn’t assigned her a different prep, either. But he’d been the unwitting cause of all the upheaval she was experiencing, and only an automaton could fail to resent him for it.
The problem: They needed to work together. And he needed to make a place for himself at this school. At least for a year, and maybe longer if Bea chose to attend Marysburg University.
So if that chill was directed at him, specifically, rather than the world at large, he should try to mitigate the damage as soon as possible. Because making an enemy in his department before the first day of school? Awkward at best, career-damaging at worst.
And knowing someone was angry at him, in whatever context, made him twitchy. Always had.
Too bad Rose Owens didn’t seem interested in any overtures of friendship.
He shook his head, impatient with himself.Give her time, man.
“I think the storage areas you indicated will fit more than enough of my supplies.” He rested a hand on the cabinet she’d designated as his. “Thank you. And thank you for all your help.”
“You’re welcome.”
No expression whatsoever. That might as well serve as his signal to go.
“I’d better get—” he started to say, just as his daughter walked into the room.
“Hey, Dad. There you are.” Bea pulled out one of her earbuds, letting it dangle against her fadedWhere Are We Going? And Why Am I in This Handbasket?tee. “You ready to head out?” Turning to Rose, she offered a shrug and a smile. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m hungry enough that the guidance counselor started to resemble curly fries.”
Good timing. “Ms. Owens, this is my daughter Beatrice, who’ll be a senior here this year. Bea, this is Ms. Owens, who teaches U.S. history. I’ll be sharing her room for two of my classes. And we’ll get out of her hair now, so she can get home or…” What did a woman that gorgeous, that statuesque, and that chilly do in her spare time? Freelance ice sculpture impersonation? “…or whatever.”
Then the miraculous happened.
Rose swiveled toward his daughter and…Jesus.
She smiled.
Black clothing be damned, everything about her—everything—illuminated. That flawless pale skin transformed from opaque to luminescent. Her wide-set eyes crinkled at the corners, and for the first time, he noticed they were lovely. Not just brown, but the translucent, rich amber of dark maple syrup. And that mouth…
He’d vaguely registered her lips as pale and pinched and thin. But now he knew better. Her mouth was generous, her lips glossy and pink, as plump and stunning as the rest of her.
None of that—none of the warmth, none of the liveliness—was for him. It was all for Bea, his sweet girl. And he couldn’t have been happier.
Because this meant Rose probably didn’t treat her students the same way she treated him. Plus, anyone who smiled like that at his daughter couldn’t betoounforgiving.
“I love your shirt,” Rose told Bea. “Do you know whether it comes in black?”
His daughter had been wearing that tee on an almost daily basis for months now. At some point, he’d inquired as to whether it indicated her state of mind since the divorce, and Bea had scoffed at him.
“It’s just comfortable, Dad. And I wash it between wears.” She’d flicked her fingers in the direction of his head. “I’m not traumatized and stinky and subtly revealing my pain through overuse of quippy tees, so stop with the proctologist face.”
Such an adorable smartass.
He loved having her in his new house every other week, even when she talked enough for three people, ate all his favorite Pop-Tarts, and clogged the shower drain with long, soggy strands of her blond hair. How she wasn’t bald when she shed like that, he had no idea. And when she left for college, he didn’t know what he was going—
No. He wouldn’t think about that. Couldn’t think about that.
Bea removed her other earbud and beamed at Rose. “I can check. If it comes in black, I’ll have Dad send you the link.”
“That would be amazing. My wardrobe was clearly missing a key element. Snark.” Rose gestured at the brochures in Bea’s grasp. “You’re deciding on colleges?”
“Yup. Dad’s car is in the shop, so I drove him here and looked at a few options while I was waiting.” She shook the stack of papers. “I’ve split them into three piles. Really expensive, prohibitively expensive, and I’d-better-see-about-cashing-in-Dad’s-life-insurance-policy expensive.” Her voice lowered to a faux-whisper. “I’m leaning toward the latter.”
At that, Rose actually snorted, and he would have hugged his daughter if he hadn’t known she’d shove him away and tell him he was being gross and mushy.
“We’re touring UVA this weekend.” Bea’s elbow jabbed his ribs, and he smothered a grunt. “I know he looks like he’s about to deliver a fatal prognosis most of the time, but Old Sobersides here is actually pretty fun on a road trip. We do taste tests of gas station snacks.”
