Page 4 of Educating Arrogant Mr. Hunter

“Hey, Wren,” a sweet, lilting voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I looked up to see the familiar, light auburn-haired, curvy substitute teacher. A wide grin lit her face and her warm, turquoise-blue eyes sparkled with joy. “Hey, Ana,” We bonded on her first day. She was subbing in the other second-grade classroom while the teacher was on paternity leave.

“I’m so happy I caught you.” She leaned on the doorframe. “I wanted to see if I could borrow your phonics phones tomorrow. I have a few readers that might benefit from it, but I’d like the whole class to try it.”

I smiled. “Of course. If you like, I can help you make some for your classroom.” Ruby helped me over the summer to make enough for my class after I’d read an article about how helpful they were for phonetic awareness. The tube funneled sound directly to the child’s ear and helped to block out background sounds.

“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

I wished she’d be able to stay on longer than the length of the paternity leave. I stood and shifted away from my desk. “I’ll grab them for you now.”

Ana’s nose scrunched up. “Don’t you have a parent meeting today?”

I stopped myself from rolling my eyes as I picked up the box and offered it to her. “I did, but the parent decided not to show.”

She took the box out of my hands. “That sucks. Especially since you were supposed to leave early to help Ruby get the bakery ready.”

“Exactly,” I grumbled. Beckett really was the worst. “Our meeting was scheduled for 3:15.” Normally, I was here until 5:00 p.m., so a missed appointment wasn’t a big deal. The difference today was that I’d fit Beckett in when he insisted he wasonlyavailable today. Zoey’s well-being meant so much to me I was willing to be a little late helping my friend.

“Which parent?” she asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Zoey’s dad. Beckett Hunter.”

Ana’s eyes grew wide. We’d hung out enough that she knew about my deep-seated hatred for him and everything he stood for. “Of all the people.”

I threw my hands up in frustration. “Right? Just another reason not to like him. His daughtershouldbe his top priority, but clearly, I misjudged him.”

She shifted the box in her hands. “Maybe he got held up?”

I shook my head. Ana might still be able to give Beckett the benefit of the doubt, but that ship had sailed a long time ago for me. “He has the number for the school and my cell. There’s no reason he couldn’t have reached out to me.”

“True.” She hesitated. Ana was incredibly sweet, but she hadn’t seen Beckett in action.

The first time I met Beckett, he’d shown me that money was his only priority and obsession. My cheeks burned as I remembered my first reaction to him was not hatred but attraction. I had been in deep lust when he opened that door and I stared into his beautiful face.

I returned to my desk, tossed my phone into my purse, and grabbed my bag. “I’m going to head out. Want me to wait for you?”

“Nah, I have a few more things I’d like to do before I go.”

“Are you stopping by tonight?” I asked.

Ana shrugged. “I think so. I don’t have a costume though.”

We were both plus-sized, and she would fit into my clothing. “Don’t let that stop you. I have a few extras in my closet you’re welcome to use.” I’d bought at least five different costumes before settling on Snow White. People often said I bore a resemblance to the fictional character.

She smiled. “That would be great.”

“You’re welcome.” I slipped out the door of my room and shut it. We walked down the hall together until we came to Ana’s classroom. “I’ll send you a text with the pictures of what you have to choose from.”

“Thanks, Wren.”

“I’ll leave them out in my living room. When you get to the bakery, I’ll give you my key so you can run up and try them on.”

“Cool. I’m heading out in a few minutes. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

We waved goodbye and I headed down the hall. I loved working here. Teaching gave my life more purpose than it ever had, and I cherished the students I worked with. My life long ago had been filled with frustration, despair, and the everlasting feeling that I’d never be looked at or worth more than my beauty.

My purse vibrated as my phone buzzed from within the depths of the faux leather bottomless pit. I thrust my hand inside to root around for it while cursing at all the bits and pieces that got in my way while I searched. By the time my hand closed over the plastic case, it had stopped ringing.

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