Page 39 of More, Daddy
She slips in, holding the door ajar with her heeled foot. “Just wanted to hand deliver this.” There’s a large, thick white envelope in her hand, and she outstretches her arm to pass it to me. Reaching over my desk, I take the envelope, curious as to why this specific piece of mail couldn’t have been put in my mail cubby likeeverything else.
“Thanks, Denae.” I click around on my computer, but feel her lingering in the door, and glance back to her. “Did you need me to sign for it or something?”
She shakes her head, peering back over her shoulder toward Leah’s office. She’s inside, on the phone, face screwed up in displeasure only a principal knows. “That’s from the committee, from yesterday.”
I look at the envelope and replace the handset on my phone, willing to call back later. “They’ve already voted?”
She nods. “The vote happens that evening, after the general public leaves.” Surprise lifts her eyebrows for a moment. “Sometimes a revote is required, but my guy on the board, he says it was very quick.”
My interest causes my eyebrow to arch. “Your guy on the board? You have a mole?”
Denae’s shrug is nonchalant but full of pride. “Leah likes knowing how things are gonna go when possible.”
I nod. “Ah, well, thank you.” I take the envelope in my hands but wait for her to leave. She drums the doorframe with her fingers before realizing what I’m doing.
“Ah, okay, well, yeah, just let us know how it went.” Her cheeks grow pink as she moves to close my door, just as the JV cheerleading coach, Cadence Caine, along with junior coaches, Maven Leemont and Briar Matthews, approach her from behind.
Cadence, her white blonde hair in a chunky braid down her back, lashes thick, lips full, doesn’t even look my way. She folds her arms over her breasts–good breasts, from the look of it—and says something sharp to Denae. I know it’s sharp by the way Denae’s frame snaps back slightly, and she winces.
Cadence, so I hear it, is kind of a bitch. But because complaints have never made it up the chain to me, I’ve never had to address it. Leah, on the other hand, has had someattitude talks, from what I understand. Since I don’t have to deal with it or her, I simply do not care.
“Close the door,” I call to Denae, who quietly clicks it shut, earning me a glance from Cadence’s minions, Maven and Briar. They smile and I give her a curt nod, then refocus on the white envelope. Cadence and her minions can complain about whatever they want—that’s Leah’s problem.
Right now, I get to see if my speech made an impact.
I open the letter, careful not to cut myself because I am a firm believer that being stabbed is less irritating than a fucking papercut. My eyes make quick work of the black Times New Roman size ten situation, stopping only when I come to one of the two turns of phrase I’d been looking for.
We’re pleased to inform you, Mr. West Dupont, on behalf of Warriorville County School District, as a liaison for intracounty youth sports advocacy, that a grant has been awarded in your favor. We have allotted fifty-three thousand dollars annually to the WCSDYSF— Warriorville County School District Youth Sports Fund, which will be used for all Warriorville County Schools annually, to make improvements to existing programs and/or to plan and create future programs.
I stop reading there and dial Leah, even though I can see her from here and she’s on the receiving end of a hissy fit from Cadence, her junior coaches standing by, faces cherry red.
Leah swivels and eyes me through the windows separating our offices. She holds a finger out to Cadence, then picks up the receiver.
“Denae emailed me the letter came. Am I firing you or not?”
I scoff. “You’re giving me a raise.”
“What’d they give?” she asks.
“A little over 50k a year annually for Warriorville County.”Pride fills me. I did that for my students. I did that for my county.I did. “You’re welcome.”
“Goode’s for lunch, I know, I know, I owe you more but that's all I can do today.” She swivels and gives me a thumbs up, to which I roll my eyes and hang up the call.
She returns her focus to her cheerleading conundrum, and I pull my phone from my pocket, and open upVeiled.
DaddysGirlis offline.
She works at a high school. She’s a fucking high school teacher. I stare at the word offline a moment longer, processing that she’s somewhere in Warriorville County right now, doing the same thing that I do.
Well, more or less.
While staring at the screen, a knock comes at the door. It’s… Cadence Caine.
I motion for her to come in, and when she does, she stands in the doorway, an awkward smile curving her full, pink lips.
“Hello,” I start because she’s just fucking standing there. God, this is what happens to gorgeous, perfect looking women. The world has catered to them. They know they no longer have to think or put effort into anything. The effort caters to them.
I paste on a smile, trying my hardest to hide my evil self, as Leah puts it.
