Page 8 of Bad Teacher

Did he really believe the world revolved around him? And that she’d go out of his way to prove a point? She shook her head, seeing red. “Blackmailing me—”

“Persuading you into helping out. So, your plan is to take my money and have her fail.”

“I’d never do such thing,” she said, frustrated.

His jaw clenched. “Then why did you give up already?”

“You don’t need to be so uptight.”

“You’re telling me about uptight? That’s rich,” he said, each word sharp like a blade.

“Listen, your daughter is hurting. I gave her some iPad time to gain her trust and have her like me, so maybe she’ll be more engaged in the lessons. You’re acting like you saw me give her a bag of cocaine.” She stood, too restless to sit. Damn, she didn’t need his condescending attitude about the work she’d been doing. She already had enough to deal with her own insecurities to worry about someone else’s. “Maybe this was all a bad idea. To believe I could help you. Maybe you’re hurting too, and the idea of another woman spending time with your daughter, even if not on a personal capacity, makes you act this overbearing and controlling.”

The muscle in his jaw jumped. “I’m not paying you to be my shrink, or my daughter’s.”

No, but she hoped he paid a professional one day. He certainly needed intensive therapy. What a stubborn man. “I’ve just recently recovered my mental health, and I’ll be damned if I lose it again because of an asshole like you. I’m out.”

* * *

“You walked out?”Lara asked.

“Yes. Thankfully his daughter had gone to her room, I didn’t have to explain myself to her,” Violet said, still unsure if that had been a good or bad call. She’d enjoyed spending time with Marcelle and truthfully wanted her to get better, but she couldn’t allow that man to treat her like a second-class citizen.

Lara lifted her glass of wine and clinked Violet’s. “Well done.”

“I feel bad for walking out… when I was finally getting somewhere with Marcelle.” Not to mention, she’d have to explain to the principal when he came back from vacation in a few days that not only did she not do her job kicking Marcelle out of the school, she stopped helping her improve her grades along with her attitude.

Lara picked a piece of gouda cheese from the platter that Violet had set out for them. “Are Nikki and Brit coming?”

Violet shook her head. “Nikki wasn’t feeling well, and Brit is having sex with my ex-husband.”

Lara chuckled. “Skanks.”

Violet took another sip of red wine. “Right?”

Lara leaned closer. “You know, Noelle founded the Bad Girls Club, and maybe we should consider adding more sassy women to it.” Noelle had been a wonderful friend, who had died far too young but she left her a solid legacy of friendship behind. Vibrant and fearless, Noelle had always encouraged them to be more curious and spontaneous.

Violet sucked in a breath. She didn’t have the time or the energy to get to know new people. “Maybe,” she said, too tired to argue against Lara’s idea.

Trusting people didn’t come easily for her. Hell, she still hadn’t told her best friends all the reasons why she’d left her then husband and kids for several months to get help. She’d told him and circumvented around the subject with the girls. But the dark details of her childhood she maintained in the vault. She’d opened it, to her shrink, to her family, and the idea of doing it over and over again made agony lance through her chest. Maybe one day—when she’d be strong enough.

Now, just being here and showing up was enough. Baby steps.

The doorbell rang and she stood, walking to the door. “Who knows—perhaps one of them had a change of heart,” she said to Lara.

When she opened the door, her blood froze. Instead of either of her friends, her gaze landed on an impossibly handsome man, with a hand jammed in his pocket. A flicker of anticipation gleamed in his eyes, and she swallowed. “Theo?” she said, not worrying about formalities. “What are you doing here?”

“I came here to apologize. Are you going to let me in?”

* * *

Theo swallowed,hoping to dissolve the knot of frustration thickening his throat. He glanced at the stunning woman in front of him, who threaded her fingers together, regarding him with curiosity.

Merde. Even when he tried to make amends he sounded like an asshole. He sucked in a breath, and slapped on a neutral smile. “I’d like to talk to you if that’s okay.”

Nodding, she opened the door wider and gestured for him to come in.

He entered her home, studying the cozy, cottage style property. Pastel colors filled the walls and the set of couches, contrasting with a couple of signature pieces—like a large floor lamp that draped over a chase longue, and the silver coffee table with curly legs that reminded him of old Hollywood. Even though he didn’t know her that well, a look in her living room and everything meshed, harmoniously. Pragmatic, but not boring—just like Violet.

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