Page 1 of My Reluctant Valentine

1

LESLIE

"Miss Leslie! Tommy ate the red glitter!"

Of course, he did.Because that's exactly what I need thirty minutes before parent-teacher conferences, a possible glitter poisoning situation.

I rush over to Tommy's art station, where he grins up at me, red sparkles coating his teeth like some kind of fairy vampire. At least he seems proud of his poor life choices.

"Buddy, we've talked about this. Art supplies go on the paper, not in our mouths." I grab the container of non-toxic glitter.Thank God for that label.Then do a quick check of his airways. No distress, just a very sparkly smile.

"But it looked like strawberry candy!" he protests, bits of red shimmer falling from his lips.

I hold back a laugh. Six months of teaching preschool in Serenity County has taught me that laughing only encourages their chaotic impulses. I’ll never understand why they insist on starting Valentine’s Day projects dang near a whole month inadvance. "How about we go brush those teeth before your mom arrives?"

On my way to our classroom bathroom with Tommy, my teaching assistant Jana gives me a knowing look. "I'll finish the art display while you handle our little Tinker Bell."

"You're a lifesaver." I mouth the words, already plotting how to explain this to his mother without sounding completely incompetent.

The thing is, even with glitter-eating incidents and the occasional paint explosion, this is exactly the kind ofnormalI came here seeking. Simple. Predictable. Safe. No one in this sleepy Georgia town knows about the restraining order or the reason I left Atlanta in such a hurry. Here, I'm just Miss Leslie, the new preschool teacher who needs to "get herself a man before all the good ones are taken," according to the ever-helpful church ladies.

"All clean!" Tommy declares, showing off his now mostly glitter-free smile.

I check my watch—twenty minutes until the conferences begin. "Perfect timing, buddy. Let's get you ready for pickup."

Back in the classroom, Jana has transformed our art wall into a Valentine's wonderland. Red and pink hearts frame the children's artwork, making even the more abstract pieces look festival-appropriate.

"Leslie," Jana starts, using that tone that means she's about to meddle. "Speaking of Valentine's Day, my nephew David is visiting next weekend. He's an accountant in Savannah, very stable, very single..."

"Jana." I cut her off gently. "We've talked about this. I'm not interested in dating right now."

She sighs dramatically. "Honey, you can't let whatever happened in Atlanta keep you from living. Even Principal Matthews mentioned you'd be perfect for his son."

Great.Now even my boss is trying to play matchmaker. "I'm focusing on my career."

"You're twenty-eight, not dead." Jana starts gathering Tommy's things as parents begin arriving for early pickup. "And this town doesn't exactly have men lining up around the block. You've got to at least consider the good ones when they come along."

The sad part is, she's not entirely wrong. Six months of self-imposed isolation has started feeling less like healing and more like hiding. But every time I think about putting myself out there again, I remember Mark's face when the police finally arrested him. That look that said this wasn't over.

My phone buzzes with a text from my sister:

Did you get the dating app I recommended? You promised you'd try!

I ignore it, just like I've ignored the last three messages about the same thing. Between Jana, my sister, and apparently the entire town of Serenity, you'd think my relationship status was a community crisis.

The classroom door opens, and Tommy's mom arrives right on schedule. I explain the glitter incident which, thankfully, she finds hilarious, before checking my conference schedule for the evening. Twenty parents, twenty fifteen-minute slots, and then I can go home to my cat and that bottle of wine I've been saving.

"Miss Leslie!" Emma Hunter's excited voice draws my attention to the cubbies where she's pulling out her latest masterpiece. "I made this for you!"

I smile at my most enthusiastic student, taking the offered artwork. It's a surprisingly detailed drawing of what appears to be me reading to the class, complete with sparkly stickers for good measure. "This is beautiful, Emma. We'll find a special place for it on the wall."

"Daddy's coming to meet you tonight," she announces proudly. "He promised!"

My stomach does a little flip. Emma's father is the only parent I haven't met yet. Jana had handled his paperwork at the beginning of the year, and his mother usually handles pickup and drop-off. All I know is that he runs some kind of motorcycle club in town—information that definitely gave me pause when I first heard it.

"Can't wait to meet him, sweetie." I manage to keep my voice steady, but internally I'm already strategizing.Keep it professional. Focus on Emma's progress. Stay off the MC’s radar. I’ve done bad, now I need a sweet man who stays out of trouble.

As the last few parents collect their children, I straighten my simple black dress and touch up my lipstick. The dress is professional enough for conferences but still shows I put in effort, which matters in a small Southern town where appearances count for everything. My naturally curly hair is corralled into what I hope passes for an elegant updo, though a few stubborn strands have already escaped.

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