Page 14 of Single Dad's Fake Bride
"That sounds like Eloise. She doesn't do anything halfway."
"She gets that from me, I'm afraid. Once we commit to something, we tend to see it through to the bitter end."
He moved closer, and I caught that same clean scent I'd noticed before—expensive cologne mixed with something indefinably masculine.
"How are things going? With the class, I mean. You mentioned uncertainty about your position here."
I stopped and clutched the stack of notebooks I'd picked up to my chest as I faced him.
"It's day-to-day," I said carefully. "Mrs. Kaup's recovery is taking longer than expected, so I'm here at least through the end of the quarter. After that…" I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant about the uncertainty that kept me awake most nights.
"And after that, you'd want to stay? If the position became permanent?"
I studied his face, searching for clues about why he was asking these questions.
His expression remained neutral, but there was an intensity in his eyes that suggested more than casual curiosity.
I knew the headmaster had passed away, and while I couldn't confirm with certainty that Eloise was related to him—maybe his granddaughter—I'd had my suspicions.
Maybe Harrison was insinuating something?
"I love it here," I admitted. "The students, the resources, the community. It's exactly the kind of environment I always hoped to work in."
"But?"
Harrison shifted, leaning on the back of one of the students’ chairs.
He'd heard the hesitation in my voice, the unspoken complications that came with loving a job I knew was temporary.
But that was the life of a substitute teacher.
I could be in a new city in two months and it wouldn't be my choice.
"But loving something doesn't always mean you get to keep it," I said finally. "Sometimes, circumstances make choices for you."
He nodded as if this resonated with something in his own experience. "Circumstances can be… challenging. But they can also change."
"Not always in the direction you want them to." I moved, heading toward my desk to sit down.
My feet were tired and I was ready to go home.
"True." He was quiet for a moment, studying my face. "What do you think of Hawthorne? Not just as a workplace, but as an institution. Do you think it lives up to its reputation?"
The question felt loaded, though I couldn't pinpoint why.
"It's an exceptional school. The academic standards are rigorous, the facilities are outstanding, and most of the families genuinely care about their children's education."
"Most of them?"
I hesitated, unsure how much honesty was appropriate in this conversation.
"There are always parents who see education as a commodity they're purchasing rather than a partnership they're entering. But that's true everywhere, not just at private schools."
"And the administration? The board? Do you think they understand what makes education effective?"
The questions were becoming increasingly specific, and I felt as if I were being interviewed for a position I hadn't applied for.
"I think they care about maintaining Hawthorne's reputation and ensuring its financial stability. Whether that always aligns with educational excellence…"
