The King and the Kindergarten Teacher

by Shanae Johnson

  “I take it the two of you don’t cook often?” she asked.

  “I couldn’t find my way around a kitchen,” he said. “My brother, on the other hand, is a different story.”

  “Uncle Alex makes the best treats,” said Penelope. “I never thought to join him in the kitchen. I’m surprised he’s such a good cook. He hates math.”

  Penelope turned her attention back to the baking cookies. Leo turned his attention back to the kindergarten teacher. She stepped once more on the foot handle of the trash, chucking in the swept flour. Knowing their time was almost up, he took a moment to add a few more details to the memory of her.

  She was across the room, but her sweetness overwhelmed him. Or was that the cookies baking in the oven? He wanted to go to her, inhale her, and see for himself. He wanted a few more minutes with her, in this story world he found himself in whenever she was around.

  The oven bell dinged.

  “They’re ready.” Penelope clapped her hands.

  Leo knew enough to don an oven mitt before retrieving the tray. Once the baking sheet was on the counter, Penelope immediately reached for one of the golden brown treats.

  “No, darling.”

  “No, sweetie.”

  Both Leo and Esme reached out to stay Penelope’s hand at the same time, and their fingers wound up colliding into each other’s. Esme took her hand back. But he didn’t miss the shudder that went through her shoulders. It thrilled him that he was having an effect on her because he had shuddered too.

  “They need time to cool,” said Esme. “And you need to wash your hands and put away the dust pan. Not in that order.”

  Penelope did as she was told.

  “I should probably get going,” said Esme. “I was told I only had an hour audience with her highness, and I’m sure my pumpkin’s coming soon.”

  “Don’t you want to taste the fruits of your labor?” said Leo.

  “I already did,” Esme tilted her head, looking around him at Penelope washing her hands in the sink. “The sparkle that goes off in a kid’s eyes when they learn something new or get a concept that eluded them; that’s my currency. Lame, huh?”

  “I find it remarkable,” he said.

  Esme tore her gaze from Penelope to look up at him. There it was again, the sparkle in her eyes. He hadn’t imagined it. It was very real.

  “Your majesty, what are you doing!”

  Chapter Ten

  Esme was caught in Leo’s eyes. Correction, King Leo’s eyes. He was gazing down at her like something from a storybook. Just the simple brush of his fingers had sent shivers down her spine, just like she’d read about. Holy elves, was she falling in love? Was she living her own real live storybook romance and with a King, no doubt?

  He’d come to her rescue not one, but two times all in one day. Sure the last rescue was flour induced. But heck, they counted. Kitchen disasters were the true danger of the twenty-first century woman. Just ask Gretel.

  There was definitely something there. She was fooling herself to think otherwise. There was an attraction. One he clearly hadn’t been expecting, but she could tell he felt it too by the lingering looks, by the tingle she knew they both experienced, by the way he caught his breath when he’d held her close.

  They had a thing.

  She knew the signs. She read enough hardback storybooks and watched enough British dramas to know when she saw the signs, there was a thing. And these were clearly blaring signs of thingness.

  So, of course, now would be the perfect time for the villain to make an entrance.

  Giles looked positively horrified at the sight in the kitchen. They’d done a pretty good job getting the flour up, though she was certain the cleaning staff wouldn’t think so. But for two royals who had probably never lifted a finger much less a broom or cleaning rag a day in their lives, they’d done a pretty fair job.

  Giles wasn’t looking at the white streaks on the counter or floor. He was glaring at Esme.

  If she hadn’t just been in Leo’s arms, if she hadn’t just been caught up in his gaze, if she hadn’t been counting the various signs of the thing, she would’ve felt like an insignificant speck under his narrowed gaze. But as it was, Esme was walking on a cloud, and she was not about to come down by … whoever Giles was to Leo. Not his brother, perhaps a valet? That was still a thing, right?

  Giles’s razor sharp gaze cut from Esme to Leo. It did not soften. The man must not understand the word job security. “Your guests are waiting, your majesty.”

  “Oh, no,” said Esme, taking a step down from her cloud of happiness. “Leo, I’ve kept you from your party. And I’ve messed you up.”

  She dusted at his jacket, but only wound up smearing more of the flour on his dark suit. Leo didn’t stop her. She felt the sparkles going off with each brush of her hand on his person. By the widening of his gaze, she knew he felt it too.

  A sharp intake of breath broke their connection.

  “I’ll handle it,” Giles came between them. “I believe this tutoring session is over.”

  “But the cookies,” said Penelope.

  “Cookies before bedtime?” frowned Giles. The man couldn’t be much older than Leo, but he looked like a grandpa telling the three of them to get off his lawn while handing out toothpaste at Halloween.

  “Giles, you do know that we are the King and princess of your home country?”

  Giles only raised an eyebrow and held out his hand for Leo’s jacket. Leo sighed and shrugged off the ruined garment. Giles looked down at the flour prints with utter dismay. When his gaze lifted, he gave Esme the full side eye.

  “I have an idea.” Esme raised her hand as though she were the new kid in class. In a way, she was new to the trappings of royal life. “How about one last lesson in fractions? Your highness, if we took one cookie and split it evenly so that we all received a piece, what fraction would that be?"

  “One third,” Penelope said after some thinking. “Because Giles doesn’t have a sweet tooth.”

  Leo didn’t try to hide his grin. Giles was at the sink dabbing at the jacket with wet paper towels.

  Penelope used a butter knife to expertly and exactly slice one cookie into three equal pieces. She handed the pieces to Esme and her father and then popped the third piece into her mouth and sighed.

  “You can have more tomorrow,” said Leo.

  “What about Ms. Pickett?” said Penelope.

  “No worries,” said Esme. “They’re for you. You did all the work.“

  “Now it is your bed time, little pea,” said Leo. “Go wash up and hop under the covers.”

  Penelope gave her father a hug. “Can we do this again? Practice fractions with baking?”

  “Of course,” said Leo pulling the girl in for a tighter hug.

  “I’m sure Uncle Alex will join us,” said Penelope. “Maybe we can invite Ms. Pickett again?”

  Leo swallowed before looking up. Esme’s heart flipped under his perusal. But the light that had burned bright in his eyes every time he gazed at her had dimmed.

  “I wish that were possible,” he said. “But we leave tomorrow night.”

  Esme’s lips parted. She inhaled, but her chest felt tight. Her stomach clenched and not from want of food.

  “Maybe you can come to Cordoba for a visit one day?” Penelope said to her. “This weekend is our annual Union Day Celebration. There will be lots of baking and pastries. There’s even a pie making contest.”

  “Ms. Pickett has a day job, your highness.” The way Giles said her last name evoked memories of Principal Clark.

  “Thank you for the invitation,” Esme said to Penelope. Then her gaze went to Leo. “Maybe one day?”

  He didn’t respond. He didn’t look at her. In fact, he swallowed again.

  Oh, no. Had she read the signs wrong? Were they at the end of the story? It wasn’t possible? Only happy should come after this, and the mood had decidedly turned somber.

  “Your guests, your majesty.“ Giles handed Leo’s d
inner jacket back to him. It was pristine as though it had just come from the dry cleaners. All trace of Esme’s hand prints gone.

  Leo slipped into his coat. “I’m going to walk my daughter’s guest out first.”

  He kissed Penelope goodnight as she made her way out of the kitchen. The little princess offered a smile and a wave to Esme before disappearing down the corridor. Leo turned to Esme and held out his hand indicating that she should precede him.

  They walked in silence, passing by the dining room on their way to the front door. The door was wide open now. A few of the guests, dressed in finery, looked up at them as they passed. Frowns skimmed across the dignified diners’ faces.

  Esme still had flour on her gown, and her hair had come loose. But she had something they didn’t have. For one more moment at least, she had the king’s attention.

  “Thank you for tonight,” said Leo. “For what you did with Penelope.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  He looked down at her as though unsure what to do with her now. Leo shifted as though at a loss for words. “I really enjoyed meeting you.”

  “It was a dream come true for me.”

  His grin came back, but there was sadness at the corner of his mouth. “Disappointed?”

  “That you’re not a prince? Yeah, that part’s still a bummer.”

  The sadness shook loose, and he laughed. He was her Leo again. The man she met in the street. The man who’d held her in his embrace long seconds after she’d regained her footing.

  “But you did slay a dragon for me,” she continued. “And battled flour fairies.”

  “Flour fairies?”

  “Not many girls can say that.”

  “No girl could say that. Seeing as neither dragons nor fairies are real.”

  “Must you dash all of my dreams?” Esme sighed dramatically.

  “Well, you did dash my coat with flour.”

  “Can’t you just pretend it’s fairy dust?”

  The sadness crept back into his hazel gaze. “I can’t.”

  Esme felt a shift in him. As though he were changing from Leo to King. This was it. Her fairytale was coming to an end. She’d read her fair share of modern day fairytales. There had even been a few royal romances in reality.

  But why did she feel that that sparkling, magical light was now dimming on her? The storybook was closing, shutting her out with no happy ending. There was nothing she could do.

  “Well, then.” She took a deep breath and let it out. But she had no more stalling tactics. Midnight had struck and left her coated in flour. “Good night, your majesty.”

  And then his gaze shifted again. “It’s Leo.”

  And it was. Just for one more second. It was a second Esme would hold on to for the rest of her life. That moment she gazed into the eyes of a king and felt the possibility.

  “Farewell, Leo.”

  “Farewell, Esmeralda.”

  Chapter Eleven

  He’d never had such a crispy cookie that was also moist and chewy at the same time. It was such a sweet contradiction. Leo urged himself to eat slowly, to savor each morsel. Once this was gone, that would be it.

  There were more cookies to be sure. A full dozen sat on a serving plate on the dining table where he had engaged his guests well into the night last evening. But he’d consigned himself to have a taste of only one of Esme’s cookies. It was all he could afford. Even though he wanted more. So much more.

  He’d never felt so satisfied by a treat before. He felt both full and starved at the same time. He took another bite, just a small one. The cookie crumbled under his teeth. Like an army on the advance, it spread over his tongue and melted without much effort. The bits of sugar positively danced over his taste buds like dancing sparkles.

  Dancing sparkles? He put the other half of the cookie down. What was going on with him?

  “That will ruin your appetite for the rest of the day.”

  Leo looked up to see Giles looking down disapprovingly at the last bite of his cookie. Leo wasn’t usually prone to wanting treats or sweets. However, the last piece laying on the plate taunted him, causing his mouth to water with desire. He picked it up and devoured it in one bite.

  “It’s just a one-time thing,” he said. “I won’t form a habit.”

  The last bite was even sweeter and more satisfying. It lingered on his tongue, sticking to the insides of his teeth. He felt every bit of sugar as he swallowed. And then it was gone.

  He felt the absence acutely, almost like a missing limb. But he had all his limbs and faculties about him. He looked back to the door where he’d last seen Esme. The need in his stomach migrated to somewhere north in the vicinity of his chest.

  He’d never had these feelings before, this intense craving for … something. Perhaps it was due to his one too many years as a widow. He hadn’t engaged in female pleasures since the passing of his wife. He hadn’t had the time or inclination. There was always his duty to consider, and his reputation to uphold, and so he’d never indulged.

  There had only been Isabel. They’d been engaged since he was six. He’d felt duty bound to her from the moment he understood that girls and boys were different and boys had certain urges. But his promise had been given, albeit by proxy. So, because he’d never felt free to have a taste test, he’d never even considered being with another woman.

  He’d cared for his wife, as was his duty. But his heart had never fluttered or warmed at the thought of Isabel. Her taste had never lingered on his tongue, or set a trail as he swallowed her scent, or settled with sugary hooks in his belly.

  “I wouldn’t begrudge you sowing your royal oats.”

  It was Giles’s words more than the sound of his voice that jerked Leo back to the present.

  “But,” Giles said, “not in front of the princess or Lady Teresa.”

  Fire licked over the warmth in Leo’s gut. “You overstep your place, Giles. I take grave offense for you thinking I would ever do anything untoward in front of my own child.”

  “You’re a man, majesty,” Giles said plainly.

  “I thought I was a king.”

  “And she is a commoner.”

  Leo opened his mouth. Then closed it. He looked down at his empty plate. There were still a few brown crumbs on the white porcelain. His fingers itched to swipe them off the plate and into his mouth for just another hint of Esme.

  “She’s also an American.” Giles ticked Esme’s disqualifications off on his fingers. “She’s a school teacher. She lacks any and all knowledge of royal life outside of children’s books. She has no qualifications to be a queen.”

  “She makes Penelope smile.” Shouldn’t that be a factor in his decision of a wife? His child was his first priority. Shouldn’t her new stepmother be chosen with Pea in mind and not the entire country? “And she knows fractions. Mathematics is a necessity in our business.”

  Giles ground his molars. His face pinched as he appeared to struggle to hold his tongue. It was an anomaly for them both. Leo never stepped an inch off his prescribed path. Giles had never had to scold him, not seriously.

  Leo’s attraction to Esme was a serious matter. A matter that had no footing in the real world. Leo lifted his napkin to his mouth and dabbed at his lips, removing any excess crumbs from his face.

  “Luckily, Lady Teresa excels at numbers and spreadsheets,” he said, placing the napkin over the remaining crumbs on his plate.

  Giles breathed a sigh of relief.

  There were a few crumbs on his shirt front. He brushed those away too. “Partnering with the Almodovars will be good for business.”

  “Lady Teresa will be good for you,” said Giles. “That is, if you let her in.”

  Let her in? Leo was prepared to entwine two powerful families. The contracts were being drawn as they spoke. She would have access to his empire. But he knew that wasn’t the access Giles spoke of.

  “Cookies for breakfast?“ Alex came into the dining area, looking surprisingly put together. He
’d gone out before the dinner party was over and hadn’t slinked back into the suite until the early morning hours. “Is it my birthday or are people finally reading my memos?”

  Alex swiped two cookies off the plate and plunked one and then the other into his mouth. “These are delicious.”

  “Pea made them,” said Leo. He swatted at his brother’s hand before he could steal more. “Save some for your niece.”

  “I’ll miss this American cuisine with their overuse of sugar and fats,” said Alex around a mouthful of a third cookie. “If I could snag an American baker for the Union Day pie competition, I’d be a shoe in against the Duke of Mondego and whatever French chef he brings in this year.”

  “The two of you still have that rivalry? Over pies? Seriously, when will you grow up?”

  “There is no law that says I have to.” Alex licked his fingers making a vein pop out of Giles’s neck. Leo was certain that’s why his brother did it. They both had impeccable table manners. “I wonder if I could get the recipe for that pie from last night? A creation like that would demolish any competition.”

  Leo perked up at the thought of pie. Specifically, at the thought of a particular pie shop which just so happened to be walking distance from a certain kindergarten teacher’s school. His stomach grumbled with want.

  “You know,” Leo tried for a casual tone, “it’s on the way to the airport. I could swing by and grab one before we’re due to board.”

  From the corner of his gaze, he saw Giles bristle. Leo licked his bottom lip. All trace of any sweetness was gone. It was just as well.

  “On second thought,” Leo said. “I don’t have the time in my schedule.”

  Leo took his covered plate from the table and left the room. He made his way into the kitchen where the staff had cleaned all trace of the flour fairies’ shenanigans from the room. He placed the dish under the faucet and washed the crumbs down the drain.

  Sweets were fine. Every once in a while. But he had always enjoyed a healthy diet. It was time to get on from dessert and plan his main course.