Page 21 of The House on Blueberry Lane

“I’m busy right now but if Mr. Crawford wants to wait twenty or thirty minutes, then I’ll be able to see him then.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jaye ended the call and went back to stand by the window.

WHEN VELVET ARRIVED at school that morning, a note had been placed in her teacher’s mailbox. It said that the principal, Fred Dunning, wanted to meet with her at ten thirty. She wondered what the meeting was about.

She glanced at her watch as she walked the hall toward Mr. Dunning’s office. It was hard to believe today was the first of February and it had turned out to be a rather nice day. Granted, the air was cool, but she rather liked the temperature. Evidently, Jaye had liked it as well because he hadn’t bothered to put on a jacket when he’d gone jogging this morning.

As usual, she had stood by her kitchen window and sipped her coffee when he had appeared, leaving for his morning jog. Those muscular legs and thighs always held her attention until he was no longer in sight. By the time she showered and was dressed for work, he would have returned. Then she had the pleasure of seeing him—with all that glorious sweat streaming down his body—before he went inside his house.

Their paths hadn’t crossed since they’d shared a meal on Saturday. Had he deliberately stayed inside on Sunday so he wouldn’t see her again? But then hadn’t she done the same thing? With nothing to do and nowhere to go, she had lounged around and watched a few movies on television.

“Ms. Spencer?”

Velvet blinked upon seeing she had reached the principal’s office and was standing next to his personal assistant’s desk. “Yes.”

“Mr. Dunning is expecting you. Please go on in.”

“Thanks, Ms. Taylor.”

Mr. Dunning stood the moment she entered his office. He was an older man, probably in his sixties. She’d heard he’d been principal of the high school for a good ten years. “Come on in, Ms. Spencer. I hate to interrupt your day but a matter has come up that we need to discuss.”

“Alright.” She took the chair across from his desk and looked at the man expectantly.

“I received a call from Allen Bordeaux, Lenny Bordeaux’s father.”

When she didn’t say anything, he continued, “He’s upset. Claiming his son is being treated unfairly.”

Velvet tilted her head. The official warning letter she had sent to Lenny’s parents had gone out last week. “Treated unfairly in what way?” She was curious to hear the answer.

Mr. Dunning leaned back in his chair. “First, I need to tell you something about Allen Bordeaux.”

“Alright.”

“Al, as most people call him, was Catalina Cove Senior High School’s star baseball player, and I was his coach at the time. Recruiters from professional teams would show up at our games just to see him play. He was on his way to the pros and was set to make millions after signing on after high school with the Dodgers.”

Velvet nodded. “What happened?”

“Car accident. Two weeks before his first game, he and some of his teammates went out partying. There was an accident. Al was the only one who got hurt with a broken wrist. None of the intensive therapy he went through helped. He was eventually released from the team a year or so later.”

Mr. Dunning paused. Then said, “He returned to the cove and everybody welcomed him back, but it was hard for Al to accept the downfall. Then on top of that, the woman he’d met and married from New York divorced him after their baby was born.”

“Lenny?”

“Yes, Lenny. There are those saying Lenny is a better ballplayer than Al ever was. However, that won’t mean anything if Lenny isn’t allowed to play varsity baseball or if he’s held back. Al sees you as the one standing in the way of Lenny playing ball.”

Velvet shook her head, thinking the man’s rationale was totally ridiculous. “First of all, such an expectation is a lot to put on Lenny’s shoulders. Second, it’s up to Lenny to do the class work to bring his grades up. It’s not up to me.”

“We both know that, but Al doesn’t see it that way.”

“That, Mr. Dunning, is not my problem. How is Lenny doing in his other classes?”

“He’s a C student. However, he probably dislikes math as much as Al did. In high school, he barely passed to play.”

Velvet lifted a brow. “Then how did he?”

Mr. Dunning hesitated. “Al had teachers who were willing to work with him.”

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