Page 69 of Single Dad's Fake Bride
My stomach dropped, but I forced myself to stop walking. "What's that?"
"Have you heard about Eloise's father?" Dr. Sterling asked, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "About him sleeping with one of the other teachers?"
The words made me feel nauseous. I gripped my classroom keys tighter, feeling the metal bite into my palm. "I don't listen to rumors."
"Well, you might want to listen to this one," Mrs. Evers said. "They say that teacher got fired. Yesterday. Something about inappropriate conduct."
My mouth went dry. "Fired?"
"Completely hushed up, of course. But the office staff is talking." Dr. Sterling leaned closer. "Makes you wonder about his judgment, doesn't it? Getting involved with employees when he's supposed to be running the school?"
Panic shot through me like electricity. If they found out about Harrison and me—if they discovered we were getting married tomorrow—would they think I'd been sleeping with him all along? Would they assume I was just another teacher who'd gotten too close to the new headmaster?
And what if the rumors were true? What if Harrison really was involved with someone else, and I was just a convenient cover story? A respectable façade to hide his real relationship?
"The thing is," Mrs. Evers continued, watching my face carefully, "we're wondering if you've heard anything. You work with his daughter, after all. And he's been around your classroom quite a bit lately."
I could feel them studying my reaction, waiting to see if I would give anything away. My heart hammered against my ribs as I tried to think of something to say that wouldn't make them more suspicious. What would they think when they realized I was marrying him?
"I focus on my students, not their parents," I managed.
But even as I said it, I knew it sounded weak. Defensive. Exactly the kind of response someone would give if they were hiding something.
"Of course," Dr. Sterling said smoothly. "We just thought you should know people are talking. In case you hear anything that might be relevant."
I nodded and mumbled something about needing to get back to my classroom, but my mind was spinning. Tomorrow morning, I was supposed to marry Harrison Vale. I was supposed to move into his house, help raise his daughter.
But what if this was all just a huge mistake? What if he had no noble intention at all and he was really just using me? What if I was about to make myself completely vulnerable to a man who was already proving he couldn't be trusted?
And even if the arrangement was legitimate, how could I take his money when I had no job security? How could I ask him to support me and my mother if the school board found out about us and decided I was a liability? I'd never find work again and when the five year commitment was over, I'd be lost.
The teachers were still talking, their voices blending together in a buzz of speculation and gossip. But all I could hear was my father's voice from twenty years ago, making promises he never intended to keep.
Rich men always thought they could have whatever they wanted. And women like me—women who needed what they could provide—were always expendable when something better came along.
Eloise ran past with a group of her classmates, laughing at something one of them had said. She waved at me through the window, her face bright with uncomplicated joy.
In twenty-four hours, I was going to become her stepmother. And in five years, I was going to break her heart. What the heck was I doing and why hadn't I thought this through more carefully first?
17
HARRISON
The courthouse waiting area stank of mildew and old paper. I sat on the hard plastic chair, checking my watch for the third time in ten minutes. Eloise bounced beside me, her legs swinging freely since they couldn't reach the floor.
"Is she here yet? Is she here yet?" Eloise craned her neck toward the entrance, her dark hair escaping from the careful braid I'd attempted that morning.
"Not yet, sweetheart. We're a few minutes early."
She'd taken the news better than I'd expected. When I'd told her last night that I was going to marry Miss Quinn, her face had lit up with pure joy. To a nine-year-old, the concept of arranged marriages didn't exist. She saw her favorite teacher becoming her new mother, and that was all the logic she needed.
"Will she live with us now?" she'd asked, practically vibrating with excitement. Her hands were clasped together under her chin in a prayer-like pose and she grinned like a child on Christmas morning.
"Yes. That's what happens when you get married."
"Miss Quinn makes the best hot chocolate at school. Maybe she'll make it for us at home too."
The innocence in her voice had nearly undone me. She had no idea what she was walking into—the complicated web of legalities and time limits that surrounded this arrangement. To her, this was a fairy tale. Her father was marrying the woman she adored, and they would all live happily ever after.
