Page 3 of Fall for You (Flirting with Forever 4)

Olivia wets her lips before her eyes snap to her mother’s stern face. Her focus quickly falls to her Converse sneakers. “Oh. Um. Yeah. I bombed a test, I guess.”

I work my jaw back and forth. “Olivia, it takes

more than one bombed test to get an F in a class. I mean, I know you think I’m old, but high school wasn’t that long ago, and your mother and I both went through it.” I watch her patiently, but her eyes don’t meet mine. Her lips tremble ever so slightly.

I sigh. “The e-mail from your teacher says she’d like to see us Tuesday at parent-teacher conference day.” I glance over at Becky. “I thought we should both make a point of attending, if you can make it.”

Becky grits her teeth. “Tuesday at what time?”

“Ms. Lockmore had an eleven thirty conference time open. Does that work?”

“Yes. I’ll make it work.” Her gaze slides over to Olivia, whose face is still aimed at the floor. “Why didn’t you tell us you were having trouble?”

Olivia shrugs her thin shoulders. “I dunno. I’m sorry.” She blows out a heavy breath before crossing her arms in front of her, shooting a look at her mother. “I know it’s a big pain in the ass—”

“Olivia. Language, please.” Becky sighs rather dramatically.

“Sorry, Mom. I’m just saying, I know it’s hard for you to come all the way out here in the middle of the week.”

My voice is gruff when I respond before Becky can. “Just because your mom and I aren’t together anymore doesn’t mean we aren’t going to parent you together. It won’t always be easy, but we’ll figure it out. We’ll get accustomed to this new normal. For right now, we need to get your science grade back on track. You don’t want to have to repeat the class, do you?”

With a swift jerk of her head, Olivia says, “No. Can I go to my room now?”

Becky waves her off with another sigh. To her credit, she waits until Olivia is out of earshot before she rounds on me. “Jeez, Liam. How did you not know this was happening?” My ex-wife stalks into the kitchen and makes herself at home in my refrigerator, coming back with a bottle of water.

I shake my head, running my hands over my face. “Honestly? I thought she was doing well enough. Her grades the first two quarters weren’t stellar, but I just chalked it up to moving and getting situated in a new town, home, and school. I guess the first half of the second semester has been more difficult for her. She hasn’t said a word about it. This is the first I knew of an issue.”

Becky rolls her eyes. “Well, do you think she should come back and stay with me? Is something wrong? Does she have friends? Is she participating in extracurriculars?” She doesn’t even wait for answers before hitting me with the best question of all, but one I knew was coming. “Are you paying enough attention to her, or is all of your energy going into the cider mill?”

“Are you kidding me right now?” I growl, staring at her. I know Becky has our daughter’s best interests at heart and I really try to keep that in mind as I respond, but damn. “Look, I’m doing the best I can. You’re busier than I am, so no, I don’t think sending her back to you is a good plan. Not to mention she’s had enough upheaval for a while.” I pause a beat, waiting for her to argue if she feels like it. She’s a lawyer, always good at arguing her point. Surprisingly, though, she’s silent. “You know, for the first time in a long time, I’m happy. I’m at peace with how my life is progressing. Olivia and I are getting along just fine. I can take care of this if you can’t make the meeting. After all, I’m the one who will be dealing with it full-time. We’re used to doing it without you.” Shit. I hadn’t meant for that to come out as a verbal slap, but it had, and she stiffens visibly.

“I could deny my work schedule would cause problems, but that would just be a lie. Look, I don’t want to fight with you over this. I’ll be at the meeting, and I would appreciate you giving me a heads-up if any other issues arise.”

“I’ll do that.”

With a curt nod, she backs toward the door. “Okay. I’ll see you both on Tuesday at eleven thirty.”

“Yep. We’ll meet you at school.” I shoot her a slightly pained smile and wave as she opens the door and exits.

Chapter 3

Liam

Becky is all business when we meet her Tuesday outside the school. She ushers Olivia to the main door, pulling it open for her. “Let’s get in there and see what your teacher has to say. What’s her name again?” We move as a unit past the front office and down the hallway toward the science wing, Becky’s heels clicking sharply on the tiled floor the whole way.

Olivia lets out an uncomfortable breath and grumbles, “It’s Ms. Lockmore.”

“And what’s she like, honey? Do you like her as a teacher?” Becky glances back at me, as if I hold all the answers.

Trust me when I say I’d tried to talk to Olivia about the whole predicament, but she’d clammed up, stating how she had lots of work to catch up on before holing up in her room for the rest of the weekend.

Teenage girls are … difficult, at best. I love my daughter, but I wish I understood her a bit better. It sure would make life easier, anyway.

We pass by quite a few classrooms, my ex-wife and daughter in front of me. These two are such polar opposites. Becky’s back is ramrod straight, and she’s obviously dressed to the nines for a court session later today. Her hair is swept into some sort of complicated updo, and I’d noticed her very carefully applied makeup earlier when she’d gotten out of her BMW. Olivia, on the other hand, is slouching and dragging her feet like she’s headed to her execution. Her jeans are slightly baggy and tattered at the hem, and I’ve just noticed a ragged hole peeking out of the armpit of her T-shirt. I guess the kid needs some new clothing. I file that in the back of my head as one more thing to do. I know the holey shirt happens to be one of Olivia’s favorites, a Panic! At the Disco shirt from a concert we’d attended together. I smile, doubting she’d actually get rid of it even when we do purchase new clothing for her.

I’m so damn glad I don’t have to dress in any particular way for work anymore. The cider mill I’ve opened is much more relaxed than my previous job in the technology industry, which required suits for meetings. The reality is that I own the place, so I wear what I want. I’m glad to be done with all the stuffy attire required for board meetings and am perfectly comfortable in dark jeans and a button-down shirt most days. I just roll up my sleeves and get to work.

We approach the last door on the right and Olivia points at it nervously, her soft gaze darting to me. “That’s the classroom.”

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