Page 88 of Wild Love
I steer us back into neutral territory since eye-fucking him while getting told off at the principal’s office seems bold even for us. “What are we walking into here?”
Ford stops and turns to me. “Cora and I have been listening to samples together. It’s kind of become our thing. I told her she could pick an artist out of the stack, and I’d try to work with them. That she could consult and be part of the process.”
“Oh my god, that’s adorable. You might actually be the World’s MostThoughtfulBillionaire.”
“Rosie. Focus.”
I give a swift nod. “Right. Okay.”
“So, she picked Skylar Stone, and we’re working on scheduling something.”
My brows shoot high. “Wait.TheSkylar Stone? Country bombshell Skylar Stone?”
“Yes—”
“Oh my god. She’s so hot. I hope I get to meet her. Like there is nothingokayestabout her.”
“Rosie.” He widens his big, frustrated green eyes at me.
I salute him back. “Right. Focus.”
He goes on, speaking quickly. “Skylar has been having a rough go in the media lately. Apparently, during a current events conversation in Cora’s social studies class, her teacher made a disparaging comment about Skylar, which in itself is inappropriate. So, Cora got a little fired up and insulted him. All caught up?”
“Yes. Let’s go cut a bitch.”
Ford shakes his head and turns away. Hand on the small of my back again, he leads me into the principal’s office.
Principal Davidson looks exactly as I expected him to. A little round in the middle, a little bald on top. The lenses of his glasses have smudges and there’s a coffee stain on his tie. I actually feel kind of bad for him. He seems run ragged, and Ford is going to eat him alive.
“Mr. Grant.” He reaches forward to shake Ford’s hand.
Then he turns to me. “Mrs. Grant.”
I look at Ford. Ford looks at me.
A small giggle catches in my throat, and I decide not to correct the man. Instead, I offer him a sweet smile and reply with my good cop opening, “So lovely to meet you.”
Ford is already shaking his head as he sits in the chair facing the desk. He stretches his legs out in front of himself, just far enough to embody a bored king on his throne.
I want to straddle him.
“Okay.” The principal clears his throat and knocks his hand against the desk. “So, we had an incident today with Cora.”
“She already told me all about it.” Ford’s voice is pure steel.
“Right, well, sometimes the details get lost in translation with children.”
Ford continues glaring. “She’s twelve. And I trust her.”
“Be that as it may, she called her social studies teacher… What was it? Let me have a look at his report here in my email.” The man clicks, peering over the top of his wire rimmed glasses, which tells me the prescription is off. “Ah! Here it is. In front of the entire class, she referred to him as a, and I quote, ‘chauvinist piece of shit.’”
I snort and rush to cover my mouth, pretending to cough. But I’m no actress, so I’m fairly certain I fail.
Ford steeples his fingers beneath his chin. “Well, is he?”
“Mr. Grant…” The principal is sputtering now, clearly taken aback by Ford’s lack of horror. “We surely can’t have students speaking that way to teachers in the classroom.”
“Then you surely should not be trusting chauvinist pieces of shit to enlighten the minds of impressionable children.”
