Boss On A Leash: A Single Dad Billionaire Romance, Kara Hart [free ebook reader for iphone .TXT] 📗

Amanda’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Everything cool, girl?”

For Valentine’s Day, Dean Berman decided it would be more fun to combine classes and move everyone into the gym. It’s a big event where the kids can run around and have fun. For them, it’s a day off. We’re tasked to maintain an impossibly healthy balance of sugar levels. It’s total chaos.

I was most concerned about Sammy. Just as Marc tried to warn me, she turned on me halfway through the day. Something triggered her, sending her into a crying fit of emotion. Amanda and I tried everything. But after her tears dried up, she refused to acknowledge us.

That’s when I sent her outside. Five minute timeout. No ifs ands or buts.

Most kids cry. Some even take a swing at you. But when Sammy looked at me, it was with eyes of betrayal. Guess who was waiting to see if she was okay? Xander.

More and more, I’m starting to see that Sammy is the troublemaker. If that’s true, I’ll have to bring it up to Marc. He’s going to be so hurt.

The ancient school projector shines cartoons on the wall. Charlie Brown tries kicking the football, only for Lucy to pull it out from under him. No one is watching this crap. I should just be honest; I’m not even watching it. They didn’t have a copy of The Sandlot.

I fake a yawn. “I’m just a little tired of watching Charlie biff it so many times.”

For the tenth time this hour, I check my phone. Sammy’s five minutes are almost over. Ten minutes until we’re out of school.

She doesn’t look too impressed with my lie. “What’s with your phone? You’re not usually so tech-centric.”

I don’t even try to cover my ass. “It’s Marc,” I say.

“Talk.”

Excited about a possible date night, I smile. “I got a text telling me to go to Saks Fifth Avenue and buy a dress. He instructed me to pick out the one that speaks to my heart most.”

She’s looking at me like I’m Charlie Brown.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re going to buy the most expensive dress they have, right?”

I’m a little taken back. “I wasn’t really thinking about it,” I say.

“A guy tells you to buy a dress for him, and you’re not fantasizing about a McQueen?”

“Mc-what?”

Suddenly, I’m thinking fast food.

She huffs. “Never mind. Look, what you need to do is go inside, head straight for the nearest sales associate, and then you tell them you’re looking for a Mattox.”

“I thought you said I was looking for a Mc-whatever.”

“Alexander McQueen,” she says. “But if they don’t have that, get an Aidan Mattox.”

I should be writing this down. Fashion isn’t my strong suit. Most of the time, I’m a t-shirt and skirt kind of woman.

When the bell rings, I feel my stomach jolt. I’ve got strict orders from Dean Berman to stay and clean up. However, Amanda isn’t allowing me to help out. She’s pushing me toward the doors on two heavy feet, telling me to have the time of my life.

“Don’t forget to wear a rubber!” she exclaims.

“Bye, Amanda,” I growl.

Turning away from the closing doors, I feel a light tap against my thigh. I look down. Sammy’s tears have dried, and she looks considerably better than an hour ago. Still, as much as I want to try out this new giddy feeling all the way to Saks, she’s going through a lot, and I need to be there for her.

“Are we still friends?” she asks.

I take her hand. “I’ll always be your friend, Sammy. You don’t have to worry about that.”

We walk in silence to my station wagon. Once inside, I start the engine and brace as I seek to bridge the divide.

Leaning back against the seat, I sigh. “I’m sorry for sending you outside earlier,” I say. “I wanted to help, but I didn’t know how. Do you understand?”

She nods. “I was being bad.”

I shake my head. “No,” I say. “You weren’t being bad. You’re not a bad person, Sammy.”

When I was a little girl, I was often misunderstood. I was quiet, but my curiosity tended to get the best of me. Sometimes, I would push the limits by running off to the side of the playground. I would follow the space underneath the chainlink fence to the neighboring yards. That’s when I felt free to really explore.

Of course, I was always caught. My teacher would grab me by the back of my neck, and tell me to apologize. Just like Sammy, I remember crying. The difference was my mom got to pick me up from school afterward.

I feel close to Marc. How far our connection will go, I can’t be sure. I’m not a fortune teller, but I do believe in good things. If there is fate, we will follow its path. I hope Sammy can learn to trust me along the way.

I’m a little emotional about this. “I need you to be honest with me,” I say. “Because I’m about to be honest with you.”

She looks up at me. “Okay,” she says.

I’m not sure she understands where I’m going with this.

Peering out at the lake, I decide how I want to phrase it. It’s a little awkward talking to a daughter that’s not my own. Then again, things with Marc are escalating faster than I ever expected. “I really like your family, Sammy,” I say. “And I just don’t want anything to get in the way of our friendship. You’re important to me.”

She grins before reaching for her bag of candy. “Is this about you kissing my dad?”

Ouch. Almost forgot she found us kissing in the photo room.

I let out a deflated chuckle. “Right,” I mutter.

She tosses a candy heart into the air, narrowly missing it. It goes flying into a crevice of my station wagon. “A lot of girls like my daddy,” she says.

Her words hit me right in the chest. “They do?”

She nods. “None of them are my mom.”

I shut my mouth and