Page 30 of Church Girl
“Yeah, I will. Give her a kiss from her auntie.”
I wave to her as I climb into my truck, focused on getting to the school in record time. Soon I’m striding through the quiet elementary school entrance, my mind flooded with all kinds of scenarios about what could be happening with Gia.
As soon as I reach the front office, I pull the door open and move directly to the administrative assistant’s desk. The older woman looks up, and recognition flashes in her blue eyes. Gia has never been a problem child, but I’m no deadbeat parent, either. They know me up here because I haven’t missed a parent-teacher conference, a bake sale, a book sale or anything in between. And though Sheree gets on my fucking nerves, she’s the same. Or at least she was before the divorce. She’s been slipping a little since then. Still, she might be a bum-ass wife, but for the most part, I can’t shit on her as a mother.
Clenching my teeth, I shove thoughts of my ex-wife aside. I’ve had enough of her today. Still mad she spoiled my goddamn oxtails.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Howard,” Mrs. Terrance says with a small smile. “Principal Hutchinson is expecting you. Go right on in.”
“Thanks.”
I walk toward the door on the other side of the room. Giving it the barest of knocks, I twist the knob and enter.
My gaze immediately zeroes in on Gia, sitting at the child-size table and chair set in the corner of the large office. I study her, settling on her frown before scanning her little body. Once satisfied she’s indeed fine—looking pissed off but fine—I shift my attention to the woman next to her.
Instead of taking one of theadult-sizearmchairs in front of the desk, Aaliyah is damn near spilling over the other chair, her body turned to the side since her knees ain’t fitting under that table. I’d laugh at how ridiculous she looks if it weren’t for the fact that we are up at my daughter’s school. Aaliyah wears a composed, cool expression, as if she’s chilling at my place on the couch, definitely not like she’s in the fuckingprincipal’s office. But then she lifts her eyes to mine and...
Yeah, maybe not so composed.
There’s worry in those pretty brown eyes, but anger, too.
Aaliyah is hot, and since I haven’t done anything to her little ass, it must be directed toward Principal Hutchinson.
Swinging my gaze his way, I narrow my eyes on him. Both my daughter and Aaliyah ain’t fucking with him so that already makes the other man suspect in my book. Gia, because of the obvious. And Aaliyah... Well, shorty don’t mess with anybody. She’s still too nice, too naïve, in my opinion, although I don’t have one complaint on how she takes care of my daughter. But, making her mad is like enraging a fucking Disney princess. It ain’t natural.
I’ve only seen her mad one time, and that’s when I had to strong-arm her into accepting a car from me. A car she clearly needed so she wasn’t riding around Chicago with strangers, at the mercy of some rideshare app.
She got over that mad, though. Not that she had a choice.
“Mr. Howard.” The principal rises from behind his desk and stretches his hand out to me. I stare down at it for several seconds before briefly shaking it. He’s been principal here since Gia started kindergarten. She’s now in second grade, and I’ve never had to be called to his office. “Please have a seat.”
He waves toward the visitor chairs, and I catch the quick, impatient glance he shoots in Aaliyah’s direction.
Sinking to one, I don’t waste any time. “What’s this about? And why they over there looking like you sat both of them in timeout?” I dip my head toward Gia and Aaliyah.
His mouth flattens, but he smooths his hand over his tie and the front of his shirt, lowering back to his chair. Clearing his throat, he says, “Yes, well, I asked Ms. Montgomery if she wouldn’t be more comfortable over here—” he nods at the vacant chair next to me “—but she opted to sit with Gia.”
Despite the circumstances, amusement bubbles in my chest. Yeah, I’ve encountered that stubborn streak. In the three weeks she’s worked for me, it’s raised its head. And flipped me off. She’s soft-spoken and sweet ’n’ all, but I can practically see her cussing me out in her head at times. Sometimes, I wish she’d just let the shit fly. A nice, gentle Aaliyah is damn hard to ignore. But the Aaliyah that would tell me to go fuck myself with the same sentiment in her eyes?
Yeah, maybe it’s a good thing she keeps her cool. Otherwise, I’d be too tempted to give her something else to do with that mouth instead of go off on me. Shit, who am I kidding? I’m tempted to do that regardless.
Fucking focus.
“Aaliyah, come here, please?”
I don’t glance over my shoulder, but after a beat of several seconds, the sound of her chair legs scraping over the floor fills the office, and a moment later, she appears at my side. The annoyed, grim set of her mouth telegraphs her displeasure with me calling her over here. If she knew how fast and hard I brick up at her obedience, she’d run back over to that table. Maybe crawl up under it.
Principal Hutchinson’s gaze skates down Aaliyah’s curves as she settles in the visitor chair, lingering on her firm, high breasts and those wide, sexy-as-fuck hips. He must think I don’t catch that shit. Even though I can hardly blame him, given how thick and gorgeous her body is—yeah, fuck that. I can blame him.
“Aye, up here,” I growl, not caring one gotdamn bit if I embarrass him.
I’m not here for him to eye-fuck Aaliyah. Matter of fact, he should just keep his eyes off her altogether before I move some furniture up in here. And no, I’m not analyzing why that shit bothers me to my soul. It just does.
He clears his throat again. “I’m sorry to have to call you up here during the workday, Mr. Howard, but there was an incident here at the school earlier that we need to address.” I stare at him, and he dips his chin. Next to me, Aaliyah shifts in her chair. “Gia had an altercation with another student in her class this morning. Things turned physical, and we have a zero tolerance policy for violence—”
“Tell him why she resorted to putting her hands on the other...girl,” Aaliyah interjects, leaning forward in the chair. That little pause... If I didn’t know better, I’d think Pollyanna was about to call a child a bitch. “It wasn’t unprovoked.”
“That’s a matter of she said, she said, Ms. Montgomery.”
