Page 40 of Assigned

Chapter Seventeen

Riley

This online training is boring as hell. I seriously can’t wait for it to be over. I click on the next module and the speaker begins talking. Okay, time to concentrate and take notes. There’s a quiz at the end and I need to pass it. No way am I going to sit through this again.

My phone buzzes.

Lucas. A smile spreads across my face. I look forward to hearing his voice. The past weeks have been amazing. I didn’t think it was possible to feel this happy.

I tap the talk button and put the call on speaker so I can continue writing. “Hi, handsome.”

“Hey, Cupcake. Listen, I need to ask you a favor.”

This can’t be good. He knows I’ve got online training for the new job. He wouldn’t ask unless there really wasn’t another choice. “What’s up?”

“Running late at work. Mason has a parent-teacher conference in a bit. I was supposed to head over there, find out what’s been going on and see if the school had any ideas on how to help Mason adjust.” Lucas goes silent for a moment, then his sigh echoes through the speaker. “Would you mind going?”

All the reasons not to do this come flooding in. A soft panic settles in that can grow or fade depending on what I do next. Mason isn’t my child and God only knows how Lisa will react because sure as shit the teacher will mention my presence to her.

“Riley?”

“Sorry.” I let out a shaky breath. “You think it will be okay? Like there won’t be any bad repercussions with the custody battle?”

“Honestly, I think I’m screwed either way.”

My heel bounces against the wood floor. Ugh, this shouldn’t be so hard. I hate being stuck in the middle. “Sure. It’s about Mason at the end of the day.”

“Thank you. I’ll text you the address and time.”

Lucas hangs up and I turn my attention back to the laptop. The module has paused and is waiting for me to answer a question. At least the answer is clear as day for anyone with a bit of common sense.

After I answer, I save my place and get up from the couch. Time to get ready since the elementary school is about forty minutes away. Plus, Mason will be waiting since he’s staying with us for the week. Guess this is what life being married to someone in Special Forces is like. It’s not like Inara, Tara, and Marge didn’t warn me. Expect the unexpected.

My phone dings. The address pops up in the alert on the screen. Let’s see how long the ride is going to be. After a few quick taps with my finger, my pulse picks up speed.

Of course, there’s traffic. Murphy’s freakin’ Law. I have to be there in a little over an hour and the phone says it’s going to take that long to get there.

Dropping the phone back down onto the couch, I head upstairs to quickly change, fix my hair, and brush my teeth. No way do I want to be the person with bad breath at this meeting.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

What does a person wear to one of these things?

I grab a pair of dark blue jeans and a button-down peach shirt. Next, fix hair. Ponytail should do. Spritz some perfume. Apply some lip gloss and mascara and I’m all set. Presentable. Neat. Not trying too hard.

I grab my phone, purse, and keys, then race to the car, just so I can sit in bumper-to-bumper traffic twenty minutes later with my hand going from tapping the steering wheel to hitting it as my anxiety rises. Where are all these people going, anyway? Can’t they see I need to get somewhere?

Eventually the traffic subsides and my heart slows as the car picks up speed. I do some deep breathing and end up pulling into the parking lot with a few minutes to spare. The brick building in front of me is multi-storied. Behind it is a huge field with a playground, a basketball court, and a baseball field along with lots of wide-open grassy areas to run around in.

I stop for a second. Kids don’t know how good they have it. Or at least I didn’t when I was their age. Things used to be so easy back then. The only worries were report cards and friends, and friends could be made by trading lunch snacks, far easier than when you’re an adult.

I pull on the wood doors to the school, but they’re locked. On my right is a doorbell and I press the button. There is a buzz a few seconds later and I pull the door and walk inside. A few short steps into the building and I’m met by a young woman with a bored expression on her face sitting behind a desk.

“How can I help you?”

“Uh, I’m here for a parent-teacher conference for Mason Craiger.”

“Do you know what teacher you’re supposed to see?” She opens a log book on her desk.

---