Page 33

He shrugged. “You seem to be the one at wit’s end, and we haven’t really begun planning anything yet.”
My gaze flickered to the door to ensure it was indeed shut. “Principal Olsen was having an affair with Mrs. Sterling. Things got messy, and she backed out of planning the event and prevented the old volunteers from helping.”
“So because he couldn’t keep it in his pants, we’re screwed.” He muttered, “Fuck,” under his breath.
“Pretty much,” I huffed.
“And why does it matter if this event goes well for you?” he asked again.
“This is my first year here. For the most part, I love this job, but Principal Olsen said that my performance review hinges on this event going well. And clearly, he knew it would be an uphill battle if that gives you any idea of how he feels about me.”
“Shit. How can he say that? Your class loves you.”
“Their love doesn’t keep me employed.” I looked up at him, forcing him to meet my gaze. “Now you.”
He rubbed at the back of his neck. “You know I’m in the process of fighting for custody.”
I nodded.
“Well, my lawyer suggested getting involved in the school might help.”
“I’m sorry.” And I was. I hated the thought of Zoey being taken from him and that he was hoping that planning this event was his ace in the hole.
“It’s not your fault.” His fingers set up a steady rhythm on the table.
I gathered my things and shuffled closer to the door.
“Where are you going?” The sharpness in his voice stopped me in my tracks.
“There’s nothing we can do. I’m about to admit defeat.” I hated returning to Principal Olsen and telling him I failed on the first try.
“I refuse to acknowledge that. We’ll find a way.” He pointed at my empty chair. “Sit. We have a lot to figure out before we can go home.”
Chapter Nine
BECKETT
Wren glared at me. I could hear her indignant response about how dare I tell her to sit. Her lips were pursed together so hard I knew she was holding herself back from responding.
As much as I wanted to keep pushing her, we needed a solution to our problem. Verbally sparring with her got my blood pumping in more ways than one. “Come on, Wren. Can we call a truce and work together on this?”
She rolled her eyes. “So says the man that was snarky to me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And you weren’t?”
She fumed and slowly sat, but not in the chair I’d pointed to. Her tiny act of defiance made me want to laugh. I held it in though, not wanting to aggravate the situation further. “Fine.”
She set the folder on the table and pulled out her phone to take notes.
“Okay, let’s list what we need to do, and then we can break it down,” I recommended. I was used to taking charge, and this seemed like a pretty basic list. “We need food, games, rides—”
A frustrated sound huffed out of her. “You’re forgetting one of the most important things.”
My brow creased in confusion. I doubted it. “Like what?”
“I’m the boss in planning this.”
I rolled my shoulders. “Okay, fine, if it means that much to you.”