Page 13 of Broken Blood Ties

Principal Green smiles at me, ignoring the woman seated in the chair. “I sure did. Played a few rounds of golf and took the boys fishing. What about you?”

I chance a look back at the woman in the chair.

Where have I seen her before?

She squints at me, folding her arms over her small chest and bunching the cream turtleneck sweater she has on up in front of her. I irritate her? I almost find that comical.

Raising my chin, I answer while still looking at her. “Aye. Ye did have a good weekend then. I had some business to attend to this weekend with me restaurants, but it was grand.”

My mouth twitches when the woman seems to study my mouth and accent. I’m too immersed in the Irish lineage to temper the brogue.

“I received your email.” Green moves to smooth his ironically green tie several times with each of his hands while he sits back. “I apologize you felt attacked.”

I huff. Me? Attacked? Hardly. More annoyed enough that it made it worth my time to type something out.

“This teacher of Aoife’s. Miss Smith?—”

“Yes.” He gestures to the woman in the chair, and I blink.

“I’m sorry. Who are you?”

She snorts, and then quickly covers her mouth. Wiping her palms on her black dress pants, she stands, holding out a hand. “I’m Summer Smith. Your daughter’s teacher.”

I study her. Surely, I’d know my daughter’s teacher. Pretty sure I went to the Academy’s open house with Aoife. I remember her being so scared a year ago about going to school. There’s no way I wouldn’t make exploring her classroom for the first time and meeting her teacher an experience I shared with her.

Mr. Green clears his throat, and I realize her hand is still extended toward me—I haven’t yet taken it. I tilt my head, scanning the room’s corners for hidden cameras. My thought is to have Cormac pull the footage from today and run facial recognition. Disappointed to find none—and slightly unnerved at the fact—I turn back to an annoyed Miss Smith and take her hand.

Shite.

Her hand is soft. The opposite of her demeanor right about now.

“Mr. O’Donnell?—”

“Please, call me Kieran.” I grin.Wait, what?

“Mr. O’Donnell,” she tries again, and a growl slips past my lips at her defiance. “I apologize for the tone of my voicemail. Isincerelydidn’t mean for it to come across as condescending. I simply wanted Aoife to be able to enjoy our field trip with the class and not feel left out because she couldn’t go.”

I take a gander at Principal Green, who nods along in time with her clipped words. But when I glance back at Miss Smith, she plasters a pained, perhaps fake, smile across her enticing lips.

Yeah. She didn’t mean that apology at all.

Chapter4

Summer

He’s not buying it.

Jeez. His contemplation pierces like daggers. They’ve sliced right through my words.

What does he expect? He emailed my boss about his dissatisfaction with my voicemail. My Monday morning became a whole lot more complicated when Principal Green poked his head into my classroom telling me he wanted a meeting. Getting dragged to the principal’s office, no matter my age, still knots my stomach.

He’s clearly wealthy from the shine of his shoes and open suit jacket with an expensive tie. Despite my teacher’s salary, I know brand names. I’m not a stranger to the swagger of these businessmen who think they walk on water.

But there’s a ruggedness to this man. Most likely in his late thirties—he looks good. Really good. He has a striking and sharply defined jaw, paired with seductive deep green eyes and tufts of reddish-brown hair. The stubble along his chin mimics the color of his hair, adding a rough edge to his clean-cut features.

The man towers over my five feet three inches, but I don’t back down. His lips quirk with the slightest smile, and my erratic heartbeats flutter all the way down into my stomach.

Jeez.

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