Page 57 of Single Dad's Fake Bride
"Complicated news." I rubbed my temples, feeling the familiar tension headache building. "Where were we with the spring auction planning?"
She gave me a look that suggested she knew I was deflecting, but she opened her folder again. "Parent volunteers. We'll need at least twelve committee chairs, and historically, the Vale family has provided significant auction items."
The mention of family made my stomach clench. I'd been learning the administrative side of running Hawthorne for three weeks now, working alongside Mrs. Fletcher and the other senior staff members who'd kept the school functioning during the transition. It was harder than I'd expected—not the work itself, but the constant awareness that I was risking everything on a gamble that might not pay off.
My previous employer had made it clear that my project management position wouldn't be held indefinitely. I had maybe another month before they hired my replacement permanently. If the board succeeded in blocking my inheritance, I'd beunemployed, Eloise would lose her place at Hawthorne, and I'd have destroyed my stable life for nothing.
The office door rattled under sharp knocking, then opened without waiting for permission. Margot strode in wearing her trademark black suit and an expression that promised trouble.
"We need to talk," she announced, not bothering to acknowledge Mrs. Fletcher.
"I'm in a meeting," I said evenly.
"No, you're pretending to play headmaster while this whole family falls apart." Margot's voice rose as she spoke. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Mrs. Fletcher gathered her papers discreetly. "I'll come back later, Mr. Vale."
"Thank you," I said, waiting until she'd closed the door behind her before turning back to my sister. "What do you want, Margot?"
"I want to know who she is." Margot moved closer to my desk, and I couldn't stop picturing her long, manicured fingernails as talons like the way animators portrayed evil women in children's cartoons. "This mysterious fiancée of yours. Because I've asked around, Harrison, and nobody has any idea who you're supposedly marrying."
"My personal life isn't your concern."
"Your personal life becomes my concern when it affects the family name." She leaned forward, palms flat on my desk. "Do you understand what people are saying? They think you're desperate enough to marry anyone willing to sign a contract. They're calling it pathetic."
I kept my voice level despite the anger building in my chest. "People can think whatever they want."
"This is our father's legacy you're playing games with." Margot's face flushed red. "Hawthorne Academy isn't some toyyou can use to prove a point. It's a hundred-year-old institution that deserves better than your reckless experimentation."
"I'm not experimenting. I'm learning."
"You're failing." She straightened up, smoothing her jacket with sharp movements. "You have no idea what you're doing, no understanding of educational leadership, no respect for the traditions that made this place special. And now you're going to tie yourself to some nobody just so you can play hero."
The word "nobody" hit me wrong. I stood up slowly, using the movement to control my temper.
"Be very careful how you finish that thought," I said quietly.
"Or what? You'll defend your convenient bride's honor?" Margot laughed, but it sounded bitter. "This is exactly the kind of impulsive decision-making that proves you shouldn't be here. You're going to regret this, Harrison. Both the marriage and thinking you can run this school."
The door buzzer interrupted before I could respond. I glanced at the security monitor and saw Sadie standing in the hallway, holding two coffee cups and checking her watch. We'd planned to have lunch together, a normal part of our carefully constructed public relationship.
"Expecting someone?" Margot asked, following my gaze to the screen.
I pressed the button to unlock the door. "My fiancée."
Sadie stepped into the office with a smile that faltered when she saw Margot. She wore a navy blue dress that brought out her eyes, her hair pulled back in the neat bun she favored during school hours. She looked professional and competent and completely unprepared for my sister's scrutiny.
"I brought coffee," Sadie said, lifting the cups slightly. "But I can come back if you're busy."
"Not busy," I said, moving toward her. "Just finishing a conversation."
Margot turned to face Sadie fully, and I watched my sister's expression shift into the cold assessment she used in boardrooms. She took in Sadie's simple dress, her minimal jewelry, her obvious uncertainty about walking into a tense situation.
"So you're the mystery woman," Margot said. "How convenient that you happened to fall in love with Harrison right when he needed a wife."
Sadie's posture straightened. "Excuse me?"
"My sister was just leaving," I said, stepping between them.
