Page 72 of Fake it With Me

She giggled and patted my chest. “Have a nice day, sweetie.”

25

LIZA

The moment we walked into the elementary school gymnasium I had some serious flashbacks. Daisie’s school was elite. It catered to all the wealthy families that lived in and around Cloudhaven. The student body was much smaller, but apparently, gyms looked the same across the board. Although it was apparent the floor was pristine, the bleachers were all shiny and perfect, and it just had an air of money. Like it was brand new.

Tables were set up all around the room. Some projects required much larger spaces and had actual velvet ropes blocking off the areas. That was the difference between the elementary school I grew up going to and Daisie’s exclusive private academy. I smiled at the hand-drawn posters with misspelled words, and of course, there were plenty with professionally printed displays. The entire space buzzed with the energy of proud kids and anxious parents.

I stood near the entrance with Darek, watching as Daisie practically vibrated with excitement.

“Can I show Liza my project now?” she asked for the third time in as many minutes.

“The judging starts in twenty minutes,” Darek said, checking his watch. “Why don’t you give Liza the tour first, show her everyone’s projects, and then we’ll make sure yours is perfect before the judges come around?”

“Okay!” Daisie grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the first table. “Come on, Liza! You have to see everything!”

I let myself be dragged into the chaos, and honestly, I loved it. I was the proud owner of three blue ribbons from science fairs and two reds. I was a nerd. A geek.

And I hoped all my nerdiness was going to pay off.

Daisie held my hand as she walked me through the entire gymnasium, providing running commentary on each project.

“That’s Emma’s. She did one about which soil makes plants grow best. She used dirt from her backyard and dirt from the park and dirt from a store. The store dirt won.”

“Very scientific,” I said seriously.

“And that’s Andrew’s project about magnets. He made them pick up paperclips. It’s not as cool as mine but don’t tell him I said that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

We made our way through volcanoes, all three of them, and a project about whether ants preferred sugar or cheese. There was an elaborate display about the water cycle that involved a terrarium and a heat lamp.

I was impressed. And suddenly feeling a lot less smart. These kids were ridiculously intelligent. I didn’t know if I would have won first if I was up against them.

Daisie chattered away, occasionally looking up at me to make sure I was paying attention. She was in her element. I loved that we were kindred spirits.

I never really thought much about being a mother. My own mother had sucked. There was no other way to put it. She’d been more interested in her own drama and her various identity crises. My silly teenage drama did not compare to her adult problems. I raised myself, mostly. I told myself that was fine. I didn’t need that kind of relationship modeled for me because I wasn’t sure I wanted kids anyway.

My life had become so focused on getting my doctorate that I had put off the idea of motherhood entirely. It was something I would think about later, if at all. Maybe when I was established in my career and met the right person. Maybe never. The future had always felt abstract, something to worry about after I finished my dissertation.

But hanging out with Daisie was awakening something in me I hadn’t expected. Protective feelings, fierce and primal. I barely knew her but I suddenly understood what people meant when they said they were mama bears.

Rawr.

I was feeling pretty damn protective. I would do anything to shelter her from the hard realities of the world that would try to steal that light from her eyes. It was a scary realization. I never thought I could get attached to a child so quickly. Or to a man I had just met, for that matter.

But Darek wasn’t like other guys. Every time I looked at him, my heart swelled.

“And this is mine!” Daisie announced, pulling me to her table with a flourish.

Her project was impressive for a seven-year-old. Five white carnations in different vases, each flower now tinted a different color—red, blue, yellow, green, and a purple one that she’d achieved by mixing colors. Her poster board explained the process in careful handwriting with only a few spelling errors, complete with photos she’d taken documenting the flowers’ transformation over several days.

“Daisie, this is incredible,” I said, and I meant it. “You really did amazing work here.”

“Do you think I’ll win?”

“I think you have a great chance. But even if you don’t win, you should be proud of yourself. This is real science, and you did it all on your own.”