Page 3 of Filthy Rich Single Daddies

I hustle to my designated area, where a cheerful, hand-painted sign bearing my name marks my station. I adjust it slightly, ensuring it’s visible from the crowd, and glance down at my clipboard. The organized chaos begins as parents filter in, some with flowers and others still wielding phone cameras.

"Lucas Rhodes? Lucas Rhodes?" I call out, scanning the sea of faces for the young boy's family. My eyes dart to the entrance, but no one steps forward. "Is Lucas Rhodes' family here?"

A familiar tune catches my ear. Is that... theJawstheme? I shake my head, chalking it up to post-performance jitters. But then I see him, moving through the crowd like a shark gliding through water. The sea of parents part as if they sense his presence before they even see him.

Austin Rhodes.

And he’s not just here—he’sdressed to kill.

He looks positively edible in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than my yearly salary. It hugs his tall frame perfectly, every detail screaming power and privilege. Our eyes lock, and suddenly I’m back in that pool, naked and vulnerable under his scorching gaze. My stomach flips, but I swallow hard, pasting on my best professional smile. Whatever he’s doing here, I refuse to let him see me sweat.

Game on, Mr. Billionaire. Game on.

His eyes are dark and intense, a mix of heat and something harder—disappointment? Anger? I can't quite place it, but it makes my skin prickle.

"Miss Deveraux," he clips out, my name sounding like an accusation on his tongue.

I lift my chin, meeting his gaze head-on. "Mr. Rhodes. What a...surprise to see you here."

Oh, shit. Rhodes. Lucas Rhodes. Hisson.He’s here for his son. That I teach. Well, isn’t that a fun coincidence? And thank God Lucas wasn’t with him when he caught me naked in his pool.

His jaw tightens, and I can practically feel the tension radiating off him in waves. It's clear he's not thrilled to find me in this setting, but why? Does he think I'm not good enough to teach his son? The thought makes my blood boil.

Even if my first impression was a little lacking…in the clothing department. It wasn’t lacking in chemistry.

"I wasn't aware you were a teacher," he says, his voice low and controlled.

I arch an eyebrow, unable to resist the urge to poke the bear. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Mr. Rhodes. Though I suppose that goes both ways, doesn't it?"

His jaw tightens, the muscles flexing in a way that’s both infuriating and…unfairly attractive. His eyes narrow, and for amoment, I think I've pushed too far. But then a small voice pipes up from beside me.

"Ms. Deveraux! Did you see my solo?"

I tear my gaze away from Austin to find Lucas beaming up at me, his eyes shining with excitement. He’s practically bouncing on his toes, his face glowing with pride. My heart melts a little at his enthusiasm, and I can't help but smile back.

"I certainly did, Lucas," I say, crouching down to his level. "You were absolutely fantastic up there. Your voice is getting stronger every day."

Lucas's smile widens, and he practically hops with enthusiasm. "Really? Do you think I could be a singer someday?"

I feel Austin's eyes burning into me, but I keep my focus on Lucas. "With talent like yours? Absolutely. The sky's the limit, kiddo."

Lucas looks like I’ve just handed him the moon. "Thanks, Ms. Deveraux!"

When I straighten, I can feel Austin’s gaze burning into me. I turn to find him watching me with an expression I can’t quite read. There’s something softer in his eyes now, though it’s fleeting—gone as quickly as it appeared.

Deciding to lighten the mood, I flash him a teasing smile. "You know, Mr. Rhodes," I say, injecting a playful lilt into my voice, "if you're interested in seeing more of my teaching skills, I offer private swimming lessons too."

Austin's lips purse, a muscle ticking in his jaw. I've hit a nerve, but I can't bring myself to care. Let him be uncomfortable. I'm done feeling ashamed.

"Lucas," Austin says, his voice tight. "It's time to go."

The boy hesitates, glancing between us before finally nodding. "Okay, Dad."

Austin takes his son’s hand, steering him away without so much as a goodbye. But as they weave through the crowd, Lucas turns back, waving enthusiastically.

"Bye, Ms. Deveraux!"

I wave back, my smile lingering even as the knot in my stomach tightens.

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