Page 55 of Perfectly Complicated
“Absolutely not!” I shoot back, my face flaming.
“I’m not sure why you wouldn’t want to add it, actually,” Rourke suggests with a wicked smirk that I’ve grown to like too much. He crosses his arms, casually leaning against a set piece, looking like the hottest not-Santa I’ve ever seen. “Hallmark makes a lot of money on their kissing movies.”
Then he grins at me, anddarn him, it launches a flock of butterflies in my stomach. Never mind that we have an audience of pint-sized recorders or that I’m supposed to be the director instead of getting caught up in…whatever this is.
“I appreciate the suggestion, but…”
I’m cut off by a knock on the door of the auditorium. I whirl around to see David Peterson, a fourth-grade teacher, poking his head inside.
“Hey, Janie!” he says with his usual eager smile.
“Hi, David.” I wave for him to come in—because I’d pay good money for a distraction right now. Anything to get us off the topic of kissing.
Plus, David is what I would call unequivocally safe. Almosttoonice. He’s the guy who volunteers for every school committee and remembers to ask how you’re doing. He’s professionally stable, polite to a fault, and has never once made me lose my train of thought by just looking at me.
In other words, the exact opposite of the man currently standing in front of me.
“I was hoping to catch you.” His gaze flicks to Rourke and then to me, a flash of uncertainty passing over it.
I turn to the kids and announce, “Take a five-minute break, everyone,” before hopping off the stage.
“What’s up?” I ask casually, ignoring Rourke’s blatant stare as I approach my coworker.
David shoves his hands into the pockets of his neatly ironed khakis. “I want to talk to you about the staff Christmas party Friday night. Are you going?”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, my stomach suddenly churning. “Uh, yeah. I’ll be at the party.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Rourke is still glaring at us. He’s not even pretendingnotto eavesdrop, which makes me more annoyed. I shift my stance, angling myself so David blocks him from view. But Rourke adjusts just enough to be in my line of sight.
“Would you like to go together?” David asks quickly. “You know, if you don’t have other plans.”
A small movement catches my attention as Rourke’s fingers slowly clench into fists.
“Um…I guess,” I say, acutely aware that Rourke is staring at the back of David’s head.
“Perfect.” David gives me a wide smile, then laysa hand on my arm—and I swear I hear Rourke growl under his breath. “I’ll pick you up around six thirty?”
“Sure. Looking forward to it!”
Lies.I’d rather cancel the entire pageant than go to that party with David.
“See you then, Director.” David gives me a stiff wave before leaving—the type you might give your boss, not your date for the Christmas party.
It’s obvious to anyone watching that David is completely harmless. But tell that to the man in the Santa hat who’s plotting David’s demise.
“Sorry for the interruption, everyone,” I call out, pretending that Rourke isn’t a walking volcano about to erupt. “Could we start where we left off before Mr. Peterson came in?”
“Wait.” Jack’s brow crinkles in confusion. “Do you havetwoboyfriends now?”
I blink, turning toward the kids. “I don’t have any boyfriends.”
“It’s called a love triangle, Jack,” Lily corrects, ignoring my statement.
“It isnota love triangle,” I say, slightly offended now. “And how do you even know what a love triangle is?”
“I heard my mom talk about it once,” Lily answers matter-of-fact.
“Well, Mr. Peterson is just a friend,” I clarify.
