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His actual actions toward me spoke to the real story. I was merely his daughter’s teacher. And that was all I would ever be.
“Alice, I have to talk to Jamie’s parents really quickly. Could you take the next parent who comes in and go over the student’s progress report?” Polly, the head teacher, asked.
I nodded with a smile. She handed me the stack of files in her arms. I was happy to do it all, honestly. I lived for this. I loved my job as the assistant teacher, and I relished in spending time with parents to help better their children’s future.
“Thanks. You are a doll.”
I watched Polly walk off to talk to a couple, and then I turned and faced the door. There were only about five files left, and I sifted through the names to see which parents we were still waiting on.
My heart stuttered when I got to Ivy Morrow’s name. Simultaneously, I wanted her father to step through the door next while I also prayed that he didn’t. I didn’t know what it was about the man that got to me. I was nothing to him, but the way my stomach dropped when I saw him told me he was more than nothing to me. Even when he was scowling and broody, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him.
When a woman walked in next, I found myself sighing, and I couldn’t tell if it was from disappointment or relief. I walked toward her, a smile on my face, and went over her child’s file. It only took about five minutes since she wasn’t very chatty, and then she was gone. I was left with four files and butterflies fluttering around in my belly.
Polly was still with Jamie’s parents, so I was taking care of the rest of the parents for now. I tapped the toes of one shoe and then stopped myself, trying not to fidget as I waited.
The classroom door opened, and I sucked in a breath. Then, I could feel my cheeks redden as Dr. Simon Morrow stepped through. I let out the breath, pasted a cheery smile on my face, and quickly located Ivy’s file as I moved toward him. He caught my eye and stopped for a moment as the door closed.
He was dressed in scrubs that fit his body deliciously, even as baggy as they were. I could tell that they were tied around trim hips, and his shoulders stretched the scrub top. He raked one hand through his dark hair, as if it’d been a long day and he was ready to get out of here.
“Hi, Dr. Morrow. I’m not sure if you remember me, but I’m Alice Whitman, Ivy’s assistant teacher. Thanks for coming in tonight to chat about her progress.” My fingers shook as I opened the file in my hands and located the sheet with Ivy’s performance record.
“I remember,” he said abruptly.
His gruff voice cut through my nerves, and I snapped my head up while my fingers stilled.
“Oh, perfect.” I smiled at him while I hoped I’d just misheard the rude inflection in his voice. “We can step over here and sit; it might be more comfortable to go over her file.”
“I’m fine right here. Just tell me what I need to know.”
“Right.” I glanced down at her file and then back up at him.
He took a step closer, and then he looked down at her file. I could smell him. It wasn’t exactly a cologne fragrance, but more the remnants of some, mixed with his own scent, and it made my head swim. I wanted to push my fingers through his thick hair and see if it was as soft as it looked.
He cleared his throat, and I realized he’d caught me staring.
“Sorry,” I said with another smile, this one accompanied by a feeling of mortification.
Get it together, Alice.
“So, Ivy has excellent grades. She’s bright, she learns quickly, and she is a leader in her class. I don’t believe much has changed since the last time we spoke.”
“Anything she needs extra work in?”
He stepped away, and I swallowed. My eyes darted over the page clutched in my hand, so I wouldn’t stare at him. It didn’t escape my notice how this exchange was very much like the last one, down to his abrupt manners and impatience with me.
“No. Her interests still lie in math and science, but she excels in her other subjects as well.”
“Great,” he said and then went to grab the report that I extended toward him. He was careful not to touch me, and as soon as the paper left my hand, I hugged the files to my chest. “Thank you, Miss Whitman.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied, and the words were barely out of my mouth before the door slammed shut behind him. My mouth gaped open as I stared at the offending piece of wood that blocked me from glaring daggers into the hateful man’s back.
“Was that Dr. Morrow?” Polly asked as she stopped beside me and took the files from my arm.
I shut my mouth as I turned to face her and nodded.
“That’s really strange. He’s never acted like that with me.”
“I’m just the lucky one, I guess,” I said as I shrugged.
I was hurt that I was the recipient of his curt brush-off. Maybe he didn’t respect me since I was the assistant. Even so, it was no reason to treat me like that.
“I’ll deal with him at the next conference,” she said with a sympathetic smile.
I must be a glutton for punishment because as soon as the words were out of her mouth, I could tell that I didn’t want that at all. It seemed when it came to Simon Morrow, I’d take negative attention over no attention at all.
