The Teacher's Billionaire

by Christina Tetreault

  ***

  The proper thing would’ve been to call, Dylan thought as he rapped his knuckles on Callie Taylor’s weathered apartment door three days later. He’d considered calling, but had decided against it, although he didn’t know why. Perhaps it was because he knew she might refuse to see him. How could he persuade her to change her mind if she wouldn’t see him? He was good, but not that good. Dylan knew how important this was to his stepfather, and even though he was against them meeting before the election, he didn’t want to disappoint Warren. It would be like disappointing his father.

  Through the door, he heard her dog barking and then her voice scolding the mutt. Without asking who it was first, she pulled open the door.

  Since their first meeting, he hadn’t thought much about Callie’s appearance. Rather, he’d been focused on how he could change her mind. Yet with her standing only a few feet away, he couldn’t ignore what a beautiful woman she was. Silently, he watched her lips form a smile, which didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “It’s nice to see you again.” Callie paused for a moment and Dylan wondered if she would invite him in or not. “Please come in,” she finally said as she took a step back.

  Dylan could tell she wasn’t pleased to see him again. Although her words were polite and friendly, her body language gave away her true feelings. He doubted she realized just how much her rigid stance and crossed arms told him about her feelings regarding his visit. Dylan knew most people didn’t know how much their body language revealed, but he’d taken a sociology course as an undergrad that had spent more than a month on this very topic. It was amazing just how handy it was when dealing with business executives.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Following her into the sweet, chocolaty smelling kitchen, he forced himself to keep his eyes locked on the back of her head and her long dark ponytail rather than the gentle sway of her hips. “I thought we might be able to arrange a time for your meeting with Warren.” He watched her sit down at the table, which was covered with trays of freshly baked chocolate brownies.

  Her fake smile faltered for a moment. “I told you the other day, Mr. Talbot, I’m not ready for any kind of meeting. Even if I wanted to meet him now, I can’t take a lot of time off. It’s just not possible as a teacher. It’ll have to wait until at least June, when school ends for the summer.”

  Take it slow and easy. Making her angry won’t help matters.

  “We could arrange something for a weekend then.” He made the offer, fully suspecting she would still refuse.

  Initially, he hadn’t expected her to be so resistant. In fact, he’d thought she would be excited about the prospect. After all, it was Warren Sherbrooke who wanted to meet her. Most people would be thrilled to learn he was their father. Callie Taylor, however, seemed to be just the opposite, and even though it made his job more difficult, he liked her more because of that fact.

  Callie folded her arms across her chest and leaned back in her chair. “Mr. Talbot, flying somewhere for the weekend isn’t in my budget. I’m sorry if you don’t understand that.”

  Her movement had his eyes moving instinctively to her breasts. During his first visit, she’d been wearing a loose, baggy t-shirt that had hidden her body well. However, today she wore a fitted purple tank top and a pair of well-worn jeans, both of which showed off her curves.

  Keep focused, Talbot. Despite the mental command, his body didn’t want to cooperate.

  Forcing his eyes back up to her face, he ignored her clipped tone and thought about how best to reply. While he didn’t know any teachers personally, he knew they weren’t paid a fortune. However, if the cost of travel was the only problem, that could be easily rectified.

  “Warren would be more than willing to pay for all the travel expenses, or you could use his private plane. If you want to give me some dates, I’ll arrange everything before I leave Boston.”

  As soon as the words left his lips, Dylan knew he’d said the wrong thing. For a few seconds, Callie glared at him, her eyes flashing with anger. The emotion made them even bluer, if that was possible.

  “If Mr. Sherbrooke is in such a rush to meet me, why didn’t he come himself? Why did he send you instead?” Callie snapped, her tone cold and unfriendly. A tone she hadn’t used during his first visit.

  Dylan knew he gave her a reason for Warren’s absence during their first meeting, which meant she’d either forgotten or didn’t accept it. Something told him the latter was more likely. Still, just in case, it would be better to stick with his orginal excuse.

  “He’s campaigning on the West Coast.” Dylan gripped the back of a kitchen chair. “I thought I’d mentioned that.”

  Shifting in her seat, she nodded. “You did, but he could have come when he finished, couldn’t he?”

  Unexpectedly, she gave him a small knowing smile. “If he really wanted to meet me, wouldn’t it be easier if he came rather than send you?”

  He sensed she already had an idea of why he’d come instead of Warren. Still, he needed to answer her question. The truth was going to sound crass, but it would be better to get it out in the open now. If it came out later, it’d be much worse.

  “He wanted to come himself. We advised him otherwise.”

  “We?” Her eyebrows rose.

  “His campaign adviser, my mum, and me. We were afraid of what might happen if the media learned about you now during the campaign.”

  He felt like a real ass admitting the truth aloud. He probably didn’t want to know what she thought of him. Without her even saying a word, he knew he’d hurt her. It was something he regretted more than he expected, which made no damn sense because he barely knew her.

  “There is no way of knowing what kind of spin the media might put on the information,” he added when Callie remained silent.

  She’d expected as much, still it hurt to hear it. Don’t let it bother you. What did you expect anyway?

  “I see. So he always does what others tell him?” Despite her best effort, she couldn’t keep her voice from catching.

  A warm hand folded over hers. The feeling of his unexpectedly rough skin against her hand sent unwanted tingles up her arm.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you, Callie,” he said, using her given name for the first time. “Normally, he does what he believes is best.”

  For most of her life, she’d disliked her first name. It had been different from everyone else’s growing up. She hadn’t known anyone else with her name. More than once, she’d wished her name was something more common like Melanie or Michelle. When Dylan said it though, Callie sounded beautiful, special. Callie didn’t know exactly why it sounded so much better coming from him, it just did. Maybe it was due to his accent, or perhaps because it came from such a gorgeous man. Whatever the reason, she could have listened to him say it all day long.

  “And he didn’t think coming to see me himself was best?” She kept her eyes focused on their hands, afraid he would see how upset their discussion made her.

  Dylan cleared his throat before answering, as if he was uncomfortable with the conversation. “I think he realized he was too emotionally connected to make an impartial decision, so he agreed to let me come and arrange everything for him.”

  Even if every word was true, it didn’t change the fact that she didn’t want any charity. She didn’t want Warren Sherbrooke to think she expected anything from him. As far as she was concerned, he was nothing more than a sperm donor who’d been involved with her mother. Perhaps this view would change one day, but right now she couldn’t really think of him in any other way.

  “I appreciate your honesty,” Callie said in a much kinder tone. Somehow, Dylan’s sincerity killed much of her anger. “But I can’t let Mr. Sherbrooke pay for my airfare, and I definitely don’t want to use his private plane. Any meeting will have to wait. I’m sorry.”

  When Dylan remained silent, she assumed he finally accepted her answer and decided to give up. She started to breathe a sigh of relief when he sp
oke again.

  “In that case, could you meet with him at his house in Newport? You could drive down and spend the weekend.”

  Lord, this man doesn’t give up, does he? Persistence should be his middle name.

  If Dylan was trying so hard, did that mean this meeting was really that important to her father? It seemed like it, and she had to admit she was more than a little curious about the man.

  Only he can answer your questions, a tiny voice in her head whispered. Plus a weekend down in Newport would be a nice mini-vacation. She loved the area, always had, and if things weren’t working out, it’d be easy enough to come home. Newport wasn’t that far away, just a couple of hours.

  Callie chewed her bottom lip and considered her options. She didn’t want to make the wrong decision. “That sounds okay,” she said slowly, her mind working. “There’s a long weekend coming up, and I could take two personal days to extend it.”

  A smile she suspected had melted dozens of hearts spread across her visitor’s face.

  It should be illegal to look that good. If he kept smiling at her like that, she might agree to anything.

  “Just give me the dates and Warren will be there.”

  Callie stood to get the pad stuck to the refrigerator door so she could write down the days. Turning back around, she stopped suddenly when she found Dylan’s eyes locked on her, or more precisely, her body.

  He wasn’t checking her out. It just isn’t possible. She had a decent figure. Callie would never deny that. Compared to the women he’d probably dated, and could date with the snap of his fingers, however, she was nothing special.

  I’m just imagining things.

  Callie jotted down the dates and handed the paper to Dylan. “I put both my cell and house phone numbers on here too in case you need to call and cancel.”

  “Thank you, but I know Warren will be there. Like I said, he is looking forward to meeting you. I’ll be in touch this week to confirm a time.” Dylan folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket.

  Callie walked Dylan to the door. “Have a safe drive back to Boston, Mr. Talbot.” She assumed he was headed there anyway.

  When Dylan left, she closed the door and leaned her head against it. In less than a month, she’d meet her father, someone she’d always believed dead. Man, she hoped she hadn’t made a terrible mistake.