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“Are you trying to tell me you eat popcorn… seductively? Because now I’m just worried about you.”
“Oh, you’ll see. I’ll pick you up Saturday at eleven.”
“I’ll meet you there,” she counters quickly.
“How about this? I’ll pick you up in my limo. That way, you can sit as far away from me as you want, but I still get to make you laugh.”
“It has seat belts?” she asks cautiously.
“Of course. Eight of them, I think…” It’s honestly hard to remember.
“Alright,” Chelsea agrees. “Saturday, then.”
“You’re sure this is the right address, sir?” Ivan asks for the third time from the driver’s seat of the limo.
“Yes. I am sure, Ivan. I literally forwarded you her text message. Unless she doesn’t know her own address, I think it’s safe to say it’s right.”
“With all due respect, sir, I’ve driven some of your dates in the past. That would be… what’s the phrase? Par for the course.”
“Are you saying I date stupid women?”
“Not exclusively. But it’s safe to say there has been a trend.”
“Well, not this one,” I grump, tossing my phone on the seat next to me.
Ivan’s shoulders shrug as he enters the address. Twenty minutes later, his questioning makes a lot more sense.
We pull into a large parking lot and circle our way toward what looks like a school. Sure enough, a sign out front comes into view. Sonoma Elementary School. Chelsea is standing in front of the school in a soft blue sundress, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders. Behind her, there is a small group of kids, all decked out in baseball hats and matching t-shirts that read, Acevedo Enterprise Spelling All-Stars.
One of the girls points at the limo and starts jumping up and down. The rest of them follow suit. Ivan glances at me in the rear-view mirror and pushes the button to raise the soundproof partition. It rises slowly.Painfullyslowly, and he looks me in the eye the whole time it’s rising. Halfway up, I hit the button to lower it again.
“What are you doing, Ivan? Were you in on this?” Jesus Christ. I don’t know a damn thing about taking care of a houseplant, let alone—one, two, three, four, five—SIX kids.
“Respectfully, sir, I think you’ve been outsmarted. I wasn’t involved, but perhaps tricking the teacher into a date was a poorly thought-out plan.”
“Oh, you think?” I say, exasperatedly shaking my head. She got me. I know for a fact that the tint on the windows is far too dark for her to see in, but even from here, I can see the mischief in her eyes. Sheknowsshe has me by the balls.
Even if I were heartless enough to tell those kids no, the optics would be fucking atrocious. And, despite what my competitors might say, I’m not heartless. I’m also not stupid. These kids are important to her and if I told them to hit the road, I bet there isn’t a single thing on god’s green earth that I could do to win her over again.
Chelsea might have just upped the ante, but I haven’t been bluffing. I’m going to make her mine.
6
CHELSEA
My hands are clasped behind my back, fingers clutched around special permission forms like they’re my life raft. I’m trying to conceal the fact that I’m shaking like a leaf. Sure, I have a back-up plan if this all goes tits up, but Matt’s assistant assured me it wouldn’t. He even put an extra limo on standby.
Still, the closer the limo crawls, the higher my heart claws up my throat. I’m going to be choking on it soon. The limo rolls to a stop, the back door just a few feet in front of me. The windows are pitch black. All I can see is my own reflection and the nerves practically sparking under my skin. Then the door opens, and a brown leather sneaker hits the pavement.
Oh god. What if this was a huge mistake? I think I’m going to black out. I’m definitely not getting enough oxygen.
Matt stands and leans a hand against his open door. He lifts his sunglasses and sets them on top of his head, nestled into his dark hair. Those eyes lock on mine for a long second, and they’re filled with admiration. A smirk plays at the edges of his lips and the full force of his charm hits me like a sledgehammer. I don’t know what I expected, but I don’t think admiration was even on the list of possibilities. Frustrations, annoyance, even indifference seemed more likely than this.
Matt’s gaze shifts to the kids behind me, and I watch as he gives them a wide, genuine smile. “Who’s ready for a baseball game?” My students cheer and sprint toward the limo door like squawking flamingos at feeding time.
“Hold on!” I call out. They all freeze mid-stride, and seven pairs of eyes turn my direction, Matt’s included. “Everyone line up. Each of you will thank Mr. Acevedo as you get into the limo. Everyone needs a seatbelt before we move one inch.” I hold the permission forms out to Matt. “James went over these. One for each kid, signed by guardians and notarized.”
“James… that sounds about right.” Matt laughs, taking the papers and smacking them lightly against his opposite palm as he shakes his head. “Very devious, Miss Crawford. I’m impressed.”
