“Oh, look, a Woodside family,” he said brightly. His voice was a bit too loud when he called out to the foursome who had just come through the turnstile. “Good evening! Welcome to Woodside’s spirit night. If I could get you to come sign in, we have a few goodies for you.” He gave a pencil to the boy in the group, a sticker to the girl and raffle tickets to the parents.
A steady stream of people flowed through the doors, including Dee and Frank with Bobby—who parted ways with them as soon as they’d paid his admittance, barely acknowledging that he knew the people who’d given him life. Frank headed for the concessions stand, saying that he hadn’t had a chance to eat anything between getting home from work and leaving for the rink.
Dee remained at the table, teasing her brother-in-law with a proud smile. “Look at you being all helpful! Of course, now that you’ve proven that you’re reliable, I’ll be calling on you to help with next year’s book fair.”
Mark’s smile faded. If we’re still here by then.
Dee didn’t notice his expression. She was busy scanning the dim interior. The lights of the arcade and above the skating floor were more about flash and dramatic effect than actually keeping it bright enough to see inside. Mark had brought Jessica here—technically, his mom had dropped them off—when he was fifteen and Jess had giggled that the “mood lighting” was very romantic.
“Where’s your little one?” Dee asked, having failed to locate Vicki.
“With Charlotte Wilkes and her girls.” Mark checked his watch. “Although I’m almost done with my shift here, so I’ll go reclaim her soon.”
“Before you go,” Anita Shepherd interrupted, “you’ve got to see this.” While he’d been chatting with Dee, Anita had been digging through her purse. “Here, I knew this was in my wallet somewhere.”
She slapped a picture into his palm of a green-eyed woman with lots of freckles and pretty features.
“My sister, Layla. Lovely, isn’t she?” Anita glanced up to enlist Dee’s help. “Don’t you think they’d make a cute couple?”
Dee’s lips twitched, her eyes glinting with amusement as she took in Mark’s discomfort. “Um, I’d better go find my husband and remind him he’s not eighteen anymore before he wolfs down a jalapeno dog and a jumbo slice of pizza and is up all night with heartburn.”
Mark passed the picture back to its owner. “Your sister is very pretty and I wish her all the best finding the right guy. But to be honest, I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”
“Does your daughter know that?” the woman asked with a smile.
“Well, I’ve told her, but I’m not sure it’s sinking in.”
Two more mothers approached the table, ready to take over the next shift so that Anita and Mark could enjoy the evening with their own families. Mark pushed back his chair. As he was standing, he saw Shay come through the turnstile. She looked beautiful in a red-and-gray tunic over darker gray leggings, her blond hair pulled back in some sort of elegant twist that seemed far too classy for her surroundings. But she also looked tired, as if she’d had a long day.
Then she spotted him and a wide smile brightened her face. Watching the transformation in her demeanor, he was flattered but a little taken aback. Was it possible that simply seeing him was enough to improve her mood?
He considered it from the other angle. Hadn’t his mood lifted when he saw Shay enter the building? Yes. He ran a hand through his hair, not entirely comfortable with his realization. He’d only known the principal for a couple of weeks, yet there was no denying that she had a palpable effect on him.
Shay approached the volunteer table. Although she made eye contact with Mark, she looked away and spoke to the other parents first, greeting each mother by name before coming back to him. “And Mr. Hathaway, always nice to see you. In fact, I have some news I’m supposed to pass along to you. Do you have a minute?”
He nodded. “I was all finished here.”
They decided to find a table in the concession area, which was farthest from the blaring speakers above the skate floor.
Mark had been a married man long enough to learn that you never tell a woman she “looks tired.” Instead, as he slid onto a bench seat across from Shay, he simply said, “You seemed pensive when you came in. Tough day, or were you just lost in thought?”
She cocked her head, looking surprised by the question. “A little of both, I guess.” She rolled her shoulders. “I love my job—I’m doing exactly what I want with my life and not everyone gets to say that. But it’s not always easy.”
“Well, of course not. After all, you have to deal with parents on a daily basis.” He smiled. “We’re pretty obnoxious.”
“Not all of you,” she said softly. “And it’s not just the parents who bring me down—we have some truly wonderful families at Woodside. But the administrative red tape can be frustrating and the budget is crazy-making. Our school district, like a lot of others, isn’t in great financial shape. It pains me to think of good teachers losing their jobs or students losing out on programs that are really beneficial because there’s not enough funding.”
“I can only imagine,” Mark commiserated with a shake of his head. “On a much smaller scale, I had to deal with some of that today. I had to bring in my two full-time employees, the ones who’ve been with me the longest, and tell them that we were looking at pay cuts. I hated to do it. Luckily, one of them quit.”
Shay’s brows drew together. “Luckily?”
He chuckled. “She’s been offered another job and was feeling guilty about maybe taking it. I don’t think she feels guilty about it anymore.”
“Glad it worked out for the best. How’s everything else going at the store?” she asked. “Did you get an appointment with the town planner?”
He nodded. “But not until next week—his schedule was pretty full. On Friday, I’m driving out to Hawk Summit to meet with the director of operations about cross-promotional sales and events. And we’re doing a weeklong Valentine’s sale at the store that starts Saturday, encouraging people to show their love for others by helping each other stay healthy. It’s a buy-one-get-one-free event, good for anything in the store under a hundred dollars. People can purchase his and hers tennis rackets or bike helmets, that kind of thing. Or even a Valentine’s gift for a friend or family member.”
Shay snapped her fingers. “Perfect. Geneva and I have been talking about each getting an exercise ball for our workout regimen.” She groaned.
“Problem?”
“No, no problem. More like a realization.” She glanced down at the table, a mild blush staining her cheeks. Her tone was sheepish. “I’m a lousy sister. It’s just…it occurred to me that my big brother, Bastien, will spend his Valentine’s Day proposing to his girlfriend while I will be marking the holiday by giving exercise equipment to my friend. Not that I’m looking for romance,” she added so quickly that, under other circumstances, Mark might have been insulted. “But I guess no matter how old you are, it’s impossible to completely outgrow sibling rivalry. Do you have any sisters or brothers?”
“Only child. But Dee is exactly what I imagine an older sister would be like. Caring, fiercely loyal, bossy, opinionated, no qualms about mocking me,” he said with a grin. “Vicki and I are lucky that Dee and Frank adopted us after we lost Jess.”
“Speaking of Vicki!” Shay shook her head as if trying to clear it. “Sorry. I came over here to deliver some good news, then got so caught up in talking to you…”
“Time flies, doesn’t it?” He’d been shocked at how quickly their dinner had gone by at the barbecue house, without a single awkward pause to mar the evening. He’d attributed most of that to Geneva and Cade being there. The bookstore owner seemed naturally gregarious and Cade was never at a loss with women. But now, even when it was just the two of them, Mark still fell into a comfortable rhythm talking to Shay. He supposed it was easy because he legitimately wanted to hear all about her day, learn about her and what she was thinking, wanted t
o make her laugh when she was troubled and wanted to enjoy laughing with her. When was the last time he’d experienced that with a woman?
His insides twisted. He knew exactly when he’d last experienced that, with whom he’d last shared such a connection.
“I’ve heard back from the regional Campside Girls leader and also talked to our PTA president,” Shay said. “You’re officially approved to be a troop leader! There are a few conditions, but they’re standard operating procedure for the protection of the kids, nothing personal. Regular meetings can be held in the Woodside cafeteria, but for any outside excursions, you must have at least one female volunteer with you. The good news is, it doesn’t have to be the same person every time. I think you’ll have an easier job finding people to commit to one event or camping trip than we did finding a permanent leader.”
Permanent? Signing up as troop leader suddenly sounded like a life sentence, but he refused to second-guess his decision when he knew how happy this would make his daughter. “I can’t wait to tell Vicki.” He got to his feet, imagining her smile. “She’s gonna be over the moon!”
Shay looked delighted for both of them. “I think this is really going to be good for both of you. And, on a selfish note,” she said as she rose, “fabulous for the girls at Woodside who otherwise wouldn’t have been able to participate. I assume that you’ll want to get started as soon as possible?”
Troop activities, Mark knew from his research over the past week, followed the calendar year rather than the school year. There should have been an orientation and sign up in November, before all the holidays, but actual meetings wouldn’t have started until January. With February just starting, they weren’t that far behind other schools—yet.
“You bet.” He experienced a twinge, wondering if it was irresponsible for him to take on a project that lasted until December when he and Vicki might have to leave over the summer. Don’t think like that. Thousands of people believed in the power of positive thinking—why couldn’t he be one of them?
Then again, positive thinking had failed him in the past.
Instead of relying on hope, he analyzed the situation realistically. Surely in the history of Campside Girls, a troop leader had found out she had to relocate. Either another parent would step up to fill Mark’s shoes—maybe someone would be more willing to finish out a partial term with a troop that had already formed than start up a completely new year—or the troop would disband. Which would be unfortunate, but the girls would be no worse off than they already were. In the meantime, Mark would throw himself into making sure they got the most out of the experience while he was in charge.
“Mark?” Shay eyed him warily. “You’re not regretting taking this on, are you? I thought you’d be happier.”
“No, I’m thrilled. Just…wanna do my best, you know?”
She smiled. “I know. That’s how I feel every single time I pull into the school parking lot. Anyway, if you’re ready to get started, I’ll have a memo typed up and sent home with all our first-and second-grade girls this week! Good luck.”
“I’m sure I’ll need it,” he admitted.
“Just do me one favor…” Darting a glance around as if checking for eavesdroppers, she suddenly stepped close to him.
So close that he could feel the warmth of her curves and breathe in the unexpected, summery raspberry scent of her skin—body wash, maybe? A split-second image of Shay in the shower seared his brain. He hardened at the thought, so caught off guard by the intensity of his reaction that he nearly stumbled.
“Mark?” As she had only moments ago, she said his name. But it was softer this time, breathier. And there was no questioning wariness in her expression. Was it his imagination or did her aquamarine eyes mirror—
“Well.” In comparison to Carolyn Moon’s smug voice, fingernails on a chalkboard were a symphony. “Don’t the two of you look cozy?”
Mark swung his head to the side, ashamed. Vicki could have walked up with her aunt, uncle, cousin and the entire Wilkes family and he wouldn’t have noticed. He’d been too busy lusting after her principal. At an elementary school function.
“Carolyn.” There was a waver to Shay’s voice and Mark knew instinctively that her reflex had been to jerk back, away from him, but she stood frozen in place. As if backing up would have made her look guilty of a crime she hadn’t committed. Yet. “Good news. I was just telling Mr. Hathaway here that he’s been approved as a Campside Girls leader, so thanks to his willingness to volunteer, it’s going to be possible for our school to host a troop! Isn’t that wonderful? Maybe your Lorelai will be interested in joining.”
Mark could have kicked her on the shin for that—like he needed any more time spent in Carolyn Moon’s proximity—but he needn’t have worried. Carolyn crinkled her nose as if offended by Shay’s comment.
“Lorelai is quite busy with her other activities—ballet, piano, choir. Even with a natural gift, it requires hours of practice for a little girl to become as talented as she is.”
“So it does.” Shay’s smile was so big and bright that Mark was surprised Carolyn wasn’t blinking against its glare. “Was there something you needed me for?”
“N-no. I just… Well, I just stopped by to say hello. As any polite person would.”
Bull. She’d stopped by to pass judgment, to make Shay—or both of them—uncomfortable. Mark recalled Shay’s words outside the barbecue house. She’d said that being the principal was “a fairly public position that invites a lot of scrutiny.” Now he had firsthand experience with exactly what she meant. If she was ever seen kissing a parent from the school—not that she had!—people would discuss it. If she, heaven forbid, let her hair down some weekend and performed a wild musical number at Tasting Notes, a local restaurant that offered Braeden’s only karaoke, everyone would know by Monday morning. Mark couldn’t really conceive of that kind of pressure, being a fair target for gossip because of the job you held. He’d always been more of a team player than soloist, used to being part of the local scenery. The only time he’d ever felt painfully visible was in the weeks after Jess’s death, when well-meaning people he barely even knew had accosted him on the street to offer their condolences.
“Ah. Hello, then.” The way Shay said it, the word was clearly meant as a goodbye.
Carolyn’s lips pursed. “I’ll just let the two of you get back to your…discussion. Good night.”
“Have a nice evening,” Mark managed. Just do it far away from Shay.
As the woman exited the semienclosed concession area, Shay hissed out a breath.
“I am the principal,” she muttered, “and I appreciate all of the parents who give their time and efforts and make Woodside the wonderful school that it is.”
He grinned. “But?”
“If I was going to take an extreme dislike to one of them…”
She stood there looking so adorably exasperated that he was tempted for a second to drop a kiss on her forehead. The idea of that tender gesture was as jarring, in a different way, as the lust he’d experienced earlier.
“So.” He swallowed. “You were going to stay something? Before we were interrupted.”
“Right. I was going to ask you a favor regarding your new role with the Campside Girls. Well, actually, more like give you a friendly piece of advice.” With a wickedly teasing grin, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Try to avoid telling them there’s no Easter Bunny, would you?”
“CAN I HAVE A DRINK, DADDY?”
Mark studied his daughter’s face, bright with excitement and flushed with exertion from her many laps around the skating floor. God, he loved that little face, the eyes that were so much like her mom’s, the smile that hadn’t changed since Vicki was a chubby baby who’d wrenched his heart with the pure sweetness of her first laugh.
“Yeah, beverages sound like a good idea.” He was thirsty himself after more skating than he’d done in years. “You having fun tonight?”
“The mostest!” she declared as they exited
the skate floor. He was proud of how well she was doing. Even though she skated better than a lot of her friends, she’d still fallen a couple of times tonight—but she hadn’t cried. In fact, the smile hadn’t left her face since the moment he’d told her that he was the new Campside Girls leader. Dee had even become teary-eyed when she’d heard the news.
“It’s a good thing you’re doing,” she’d told him as Vicki had rushed shrieking with joy to Tessa, asking if the little girl wanted to join the troop and if the Wilkeses knew if Valerie—another Campside hopeful—was still here. In a voice so low her words were barely audible over the cover of “Kung Fu Fighting” that was blasting, Dee admitted, “I really worried about the two you for a while. I mean, that comes with the territory, worrying about loved ones, but I think… You guys are going to be all right, no matter what happens. Jess would be proud of you.”
The reminder of his late wife hadn’t upset him as it once would have. He’d merely nodded, accepting the comment as the praise Dee had intended, choosing to believe that it was true.
“So what do you want to drink, Bug? A lemonade or—”
His daughter cut him off with a squeal. “Principal Morgan!” She skated toward the blonde so quickly—and without total mastery of stopping—that Shay wobbled a bit under the onslaught. If she’d been wearing skates herself, she probably would have fallen.
At the sight of Shay hugging his daughter, emotion welled in Mark, so powerful that he looked away.
“Did you hear? I get to be a Campside Girl!”
“I know. Isn’t that wonderful of your dad to help you and all the other little girls?” Shay asked.
Vicki nodded enthusiastically, flailing her arms a bit as she tried to step away. Moving backward wasn’t nearly as easy as forward. Mark gave his daughter a hand, supporting her so she didn’t stumble. He glanced down at Shay’s black suede demiboots.
“No skates? Come on, Principal Morgan, where’s your sense of adventure?” he chided. “I did promise not to laugh at your attempts.”
His Valentine Surprise Page 9
