Dr. Daddy's Virgin - Page 214

“Emily! Happy new year! How was your break?” Betty called, as I walked into the teacher’s lounge to fill my coffee mug.

“Hey, Betty,” I said, smiling back. “It was okay. How was yours?”

“I hear about the fire,” she said, dropping her voice as she moved alongside of me at the counter. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I nodded. “I’m living with a friend until I can find a new place.”

“Do you need anything?” she asked. I knew she was interested in how I was doing, but I also knew her well enough to know she was angling for more information than I was willing to share. “Do you have anyone helping you out?”

“It’s all good,” I repeated with a friendly smile. “I had good insurance coverage, so I’ll be able to replace everything.”

“It’s too bad you don’t have a boyfriend who could help you out,” she said, leaving the unasked question hanging between us.

“Yeah, well, I do all right on my own,” I shrugged. Again, I thought about what KO had said and wondered if I should call Blake.

“One of these days one of these town boys is going to scoop you up and make an honest woman of you!” Betty said, nudging me as she grinned.

“Uh-huh,” I said, giving her a weak smile. “One can only hope, right?”

I poured myself some coffee and headed back to my classroom. I could feel a dull ache starting behind my eyes, and I hoped that the coffee would mute it before the students filed in for classes.

Later that afternoon, after History class, Nina hung back as her classmates moved out into the hallway.

“Ms. Fowler?” she said, as she approached my desk. “I just wanted to tell you that I don’t know what happened between you and my dad, but I’m pretty sure it’s his fault.”

“Oh, Nina, it’s no one’s fault,” I said, moving around to where she stood. She looked small, and she was holding a stack of books that she set down on my desk.

“Whatever, I just wanted you to know I miss having you around the house,” she said, as she picked up a book and handed it to me. “And I got these books from the library. Our trip to the museum made me want to learn more about the people who came to Waltham.”

“Nina, that’s great!” I said, taking the book she offered and flipping it open. It was the story of the first women workers in the BNC factories. “This is a great book! You’ll get a lot out of it, and it’ll help with the final exam essay question, too.”

“It’s interesting,” she said, smiling. “Thank you for showing me the museum and stuff.”

“Anytime,” I smiled back. “If you want to talk about this, or any of the other books, feel free to come see me, okay?”

Nina nodded, and then grabbed me and hugged me tightly before she gathered up her books and followed her friends. Again, I thought about calling Blake and trying to talk to him, but before I could make up my mind, the bell rang, and the next class of students streamed in, ready for their lesson.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Blake

On Tuesday morning, I pulled up in front of the station and found Tony bent down examining the driver’s side door of his car. I laid on the horn to let him know I was waiting to park, but he just flipped me the bird and bent lower. I backed into a spot on the other side of the lot and got out.

“What the fuck, man?” I shouted, as I walked toward him. “Seriously, is your car such a precious antique that you now have to prevent people from parking next to it?”

“Aw, don’t get your panties in a twist, B,” he grinned as he looked up at me. “Someone scratched the door, and I was just trying to figure out who it was.”

“How in the hell would you know that?”

“Paint chips, my friend,” he said, as he ran a finger over the scratch. “I’ll gather the paint chips and take them to the lab.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I said. “You can barely see the scratch!”

“It’s all about order and accountability, my friend,” he said, as he stood up. “If you don’t hold people accountable for their actions, there is no order. Anarchy is not pretty.”

“Anarchy is the result of a scratch in your paint job?” I laughed. “Now I know you’re delusional.”

“Speaking of delusional, how’s the teacher?” Tony asked, as he slapped me on the back. “You two getting down and bumping uglies on a regular basis now?”

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