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“Mr. Steele. Lili should be out on the playground. You can go out those doors.” I pointed to the double doors at the end of the long corridor. “Or we have tables set up for parents in the lunchroom. You can wait there. It’s nice to see you could make it for the activity.”

Considering he hadn’t made it to parent/teacher conferences. We were halfway through the school year, and I couldn’t remember any time he’d been to an activity. I knew him through Lili’s eyes, and the way she mimicked her mother.

I couldn’t help smiling. Little girls like Lili were the reason I stayed. Because I could see my little girl in her smile and hear her in Lili’s contagious laugh. Brett Steele had what I’d lost.

He tilted his head to the side. “Could I have a few minutes of your time?”

I opened the door wider. As he walked past me he left a trail of masculine scent. Something spicy, yet clean, and subtle. My tummy did a little cartwheel.

That familiar flare of anxiety slipped through my veins. My husband never left the house without smelling as good as he looked, either. However, Jeff wore Brunello Cucinelli and drove a Mercedes Benz.

Brett Steele was rough around the edges and entirely too masculine.

“This is Lili’s seat.” I indicated the table closest to my desk.

He leaned against the table and rubbed his thumb of one hand over the knuckles of his other. “I want to apologize for missing parent/teacher conferences.” He was quiet for a few beats of my heart. “Listen, I’m just going to say what I have to say. Lili’s mother and I aren’t communicating well.”

“I’ve heard.” I knew more than he probably suspected depending on how much time he actually spent with Lili. From what I’d gleaned from Lili, not as much as she’d like, but more than his wife wanted.

“I’m sure. I just want to be informed about what’s going on with Lili. I don’t know what else I’ve missed. Mrs. Bardot, going forward, is it possible to get copied in on her progress reports, activities, and the school calendar?”

I sat behind my desk, tucked my hair behind my ear, and woke my computer. With a few clicks, I had Lili’s information on the screen. “It’s Miss Jaymi,” I said as a lump rose into my throat.

Brett Steele was going through a divorce. He had a lost little girl trying to navigate parents who hated each other, and I just wanted to go back in time and fix my broken life. Who was I to judge? I’d been blind to my husband’s faults.

“She’s reading above her age.” I relayed my notes on her last assessment and entered his email into my records.

“How is she doing in class? Does she have friends?”

I didn’t want to feel sorry for him. I didn’t want to sympathize with him. But I did. “Most days she’s good. She has friends, but she’d rather spend her recess in the classroom with me.” And I let her. I ached for the soft chatter of one to drown out the noise of the rest.

The minute hand on the clock ticked loudly in the room, and then the bell rang. Laughter from the playground spilled into the hallway.

I came around the desk. “Lili will be looking for you in the lunchroom. I’ll walk with you.”

He stood and slid his hands into his pockets as he walked next to me. He was tall, much taller than Jeff, his voice was deeper, and he had a loose-hip, relaxed stride like he didn’t care what people thought of him. Like he didn’t obsess over appearance. Like he owned his confidence.

“Thanks for meeting with me this morning. If Lili needs anything—”

“I’ll let you know.”

Students and parents filled the hallways. Donuts with Dad was a disorganized mess, but I wasn’t involved in the planning. I wasn’t going to be part of the solution, so I didn’t need to know about any problems. I had enough of my own damage to deal with.

“Miss Jaymi! Miss Jaymi!”

I smiled as Lili breathlessly rushed toward us.

“Dad,” she squealed. He squatted down, and she launched herself into his arms. “You promised, and you’re here.”

“I am. And I’m hungry for a donut.”

“You can take an extra one home for Romeo. But make sure you tell him it’s from me.”

Teachers weren’t supposed to have favorites, but Lili was mine.

“Good morning, Mrs. Bardot,” Principal Caine said as she approached.

Was Nicole trying to piss me off today? I specifically asked faculty, parents, and my students to refer to me as Miss Jaymi. There was nothing left of Jaymi Bardot, but I didn’t know how to be anyone else.