Page 29 of Educating Arrogant Mr. Hunter

I let my head drop back.

“What are you afraid of?”

I met her gaze. Her light green eyes, so familiar to me, didn’t break contact. She knew I’d break and speak of the fear that clogged my throat at the start and end of each new day if she waited long enough. “They’ll convince her she doesn’t want to live with me anymore. That they are the better people to raise her.”

“Now that you gave voice to it, does it feel so scary?” When I was little, she made me talk about what I feared most. She said they lost their power when we brought it into the light.

“A little,” I admitted. My throat tightened, and tears pricked at my eyes. She was the only one that could bring me to tears.

She stood and made her way over to me. Her arms stretched around my waist, and she hugged me tight. “You are an amazing father. Do not doubt yourself. I won’t let you.”

But I did. Growing up, I didn’t have a father and wondered if that would impact my being a good dad to Zoey. And also, burrowing into the back of my mind was the fear I couldn’t speak of. Would I ever feel the urge to run? Would I ever decide that I was done with family life and want to walk away from it? What if, deep down, I was exactly like the father I hated?

“You aren’t like him.” I swear she read minds.

“How do you know though?”

Her sad chuckle rumbled through me. “His heart was never here with us. It was always on to the next adventure. We were never first in his life.” She stepped away from me. “But you always put your little girl first. That’s the difference.”

I nodded. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime. Now, while you finish whipping up this amazing meal, I’m going to play with my favorite granddaughter.” She got up and headed down the hallway.

I went through the motions of getting the rice and broccoli cooked. As I put together the ingredients for the sauce, my phone dinged, indicating I had a new email.

I pulled it out from my back jeans pocket and tapped the screen until I got to my email. It was from the principal of Zoey’s school. The headline readImportant: Co-Chair needed for Winter Festival Planning. I skimmed through the email and read between the vague chatter within. The previous Chair had over-committed and let the details of this event slide, and now the school was looking for a staff and parent volunteer to work magic.

The Winter Festival was in six weeks. What schmuck would agree to help out with such a tight deadline?

“Grandma, can we go search your backyard for rocks?” Zoey tugged Mom out of her room.

“Sure, sweetheart. Are we looking for anything special?”

“You know the rock club I joined a few weeks ago?”

Mom nodded.

“We were going over the types we might find near our house, and Ms. Winter said we should bring in what we find and examine them at the meeting this week.”

“That sounds like fun. Let’s grab our shoes and see what we can discover before dinner.”

A thought hit me as their voices faded away and into the front yard. Reese had suggested I get involved with the school to show the judge I had a vested interest in my daughter and her life. Becoming co-chair of this committee was precisely what he meant.

I replied to the email before I changed my mind. Once I hit send, I let out a wry laugh. Well, I guess I was the schmuck agreeing to do this.

Chapter Eight

WREN

Isat outside the principal’s office. My foot tapped an irregular rhythm on the tile floor. More than once, his secretary, Barbara, had raised an eyebrow at the noise I made. I wasn’t a child who got in trouble when I used to attend school, but sitting here made me feel like I had done something wrong.

“Thank you, Ms. Winter, for waiting.” Principal Olsen gestured for me to enter his office ahead of him. Once I sat down, he moved behind his desk to do the same. He was an older man in his sixties, fit, with a handsome head of gray hair. It was his personality that made such a good-looking face ugly.

“How can I help you, Principal Olsen?” He was such a pompous ass. On my first day, I made the mistake of calling himMr.Olsen and was immediately chastised and corrected.

He smiled. “Ah, I’m so glad you asked. It has been brought to my attention that you’ve not signed up for a committee since you began working here.” I’d only started this year, yet he made it sound like I’d avoided the task for far longer.

“Sir, I’m the advisor for the Gemstone Club. I thought that I needed to do one or the other.”

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