Page 2 of Bad Teacher

L’École had seemed like a godsend—one of the few institutions in Tulip where French was the spoken language, a sure bet to continue her education in his native language. He’d promised his wife Celine, before she lost her battle to cancer, to make sure their daughter didn’t lose the fluency of their birth language, from the small kingdom of Vonevell.

And now, his journey ended. Again.

What a bad father he was. He hadn’t been able to save his wife, and his life had turned upside down after Celine’s death. Now, he wasn’t even able to keep his daughter enrolled in a prestigious school despite all the money he’d donated to the blasted place. He cursed under his breath. If he hadn’t acted like such an ape, maybe she would have considered his situation. All those years chastising his father’s short temper, and he had grown to be just like the old bastard.

“Dad?” Marcelle said, sitting on the long steps. She’d waited for him there, which he now appreciated.

He gestured for her to follow him. “Allons-nous, ma chère.” He grabbed her backpack and flashed her a smile. “Time to go home.”

“What was the meeting about?” Marcelle asked in English, no matter how many times he’d asked her to speak in French. Ever since her mother died, she rarely spoke in her language, a fact that bothered him more than he cared to admit. Every day he lost a little bit of the daughter he had from before, and in turn, a little bit of himself. His heart squeezed.

“Your grades. We need to work on them,” he said. Later tonight, he’d tell her the truth—but here, while they slid into his Mercedes, in the parking lot, didn’t seem like the right place.

She glanced down in silence, then took a seat in the back and slid on her seat belt.

He clenched the steering wheel before starting his engine. He wished he was alone in his office, with a copious amount of scotch. But for now, he’d have to pretend everything was okay and then come up with a plan. He hadn’t become a successful restauranteur by not being thoroughly focused. With five Celine’s in Tulip and neighboring cities, he’d become a known name to those who wanted to taste French cuisine with the Vonevell flair.

He began to reverse his car, slowly, when a huge thump made his heart skip a beat.

The noise propelled him forward, but the seat belt kept him restrained with an almost painful accuracy. The airbag ballooned in front of him, and sweat formed on his forehead. A fraction of a second later, he looked over his shoulder frantically, to find his daughter safe on her seat. “What was that?” she said, touching her belt.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He shoved the airbag out of the way and slid out of his seat, checking on her before anything.

His daughter lifted up her hand. “I’m fine, Dad. Just surprised.”

“Don’t get out of the car.”

He closed the door and strode toward the back of his car, a quick video playing in his head. As he reversed, he’d checked his rearview mirror. That sedan must have come from nowhere. He approached the vehicle, the figure of a woman on the passenger’s seat.

He knocked on the shaded window. Was she okay? The stranger didn’t move, and he knocked again, this time a tad harder. If she didn’t lower the window, he’d have to—

She swung the door open, slamming into his abs, a stab of pain temporarily coursing through him. What the fuck? Did the culprit want to make amends or finish what she’d started? “I’m sorry,” she said, and when she got out of the car, he recognized her.

The same lady who had kicked his daughter out of the school. The one the weasel principal had used to do his dirty work.

Shock gleamed in her eyes. They’d seemed a lighter blue inside, but maybe because of the bump, her eyes reached a darker shade. Gorgeous.

“How are you?” he asked, barely registering the emotions beneath his flesh. A part of him wanted to shake her for endangering his child’s life, yet strangely, he also wanted to give her a hug.

She ran her fingers down her blonde hair. “I was pulling out my car, and I swear I didn’t see you,” she said. “The last thing I need is to aggravate you even further today.”

The last thing indeed. His anger shifted into a cooler emotion, leaking into his veins. His lips curled into a smile, and the ache in his stomach flared up again, to remind him of the leverage he’d just won. “That’s right. What’s your name again?”

“Violet Manning.”

“Violet,” he repeated. A frisson traveled down his spine. He preferred his women curvy, brunette and with stronger morals. Violet’s body was petite, sinewy, and had he not been directly affected, would make up for her lack of compassion “My daughter is in the car. You know, the one you just expelled from school.”

Her eyes widened, then her gaze flew to the car. “Oh no. I-is she okay?”

He held up his hand to keep her from stepping toward the car and speaking to Marcelle. “Shaken, but not hurt.”

Violet’s shoulders dropped a notch, and she sighed. “Listen, you must hate me right now and I don’t blame you. If there’s any damage to your car, I’ll pay for it. If we could work out payment plans, I’d be super grateful. I don’t want this to go through my insurance.”

“You don’t.”

“My rate would skyrocket, besides…”

“Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t want Principal Clark to know you had an accident with a parent while the student was in the car?” He bet that didn’t bode well for job security. After all, for all accounts his daughter was still enrolled in l’École. Theo hadn’t signed the paper that proved otherwise.

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