belongings and hightailed it out of the room to maximize social time. In a matter of minutes, the place was deserted.
She turned to her class mentor.
Clint’s almost imperceptible sigh of relief tore at her heart. She may not understand his fear of public speaking, but it was very real to him, and being a public figure, he must battle it daily.
She watched as he stood and, with great care, buttoned his suit jacket and turned on the charming smile. It was like watching a medieval knight donning his armor.
“Great class, Ms. Ames.” His eyes twinkled as if he cared. All he needed was a few babies to kiss and he could pass for a politician running for reelection. He’d been so genuine on the phone yesterday. Who was this?
“Thank you.”
“You really relate well to your students. That’s a rare talent. How do you do it?”
She sighed. He was about as real as a Chinese Rolexxx. Flattery as a defense mechanism—it probably served him well.
“That was good—the right mix of charm and interest, but it sounded a little fake. You know, like ‘Vanna, please show us all the A’s in this puzzle.’”
“I don’t understand.” His smile sagged.
“In my classroom, I only have one rule: honesty. You can tell me anything, and I won’t judge or use it against you. I understand your charming, shallow persona is a defense mechanism, but you have nothing to defend against here. The class loves you, so just be yourself.” Summer made direct eye contact and kept her voice no-nonsense so he’d know this wasn’t about pity or mocking.
Clint looked stricken for a second then wiped his face clean. “Nice cake. Did you make it?”
Safe topics. She understood the need for safety. Clearly, he didn’t want to talk about his little problem.
“Yes.” She picked up a handful of papers, tapped them into a neat stack, and placed them in the center of her desk. “Thanks for the Q and A with the students. They liked the informality.”
“Thanks again for the pancakes.” He patted his flat and no doubt hard stomach. “I made them again this morning with real buttermilk. They were fluffier.”
“Yes, the real thing is always better.” She crossed her arms and leaned against her desk. “Call me next Sunday and we’ll make waffles. Only make it a bit later in the day.”
“Early bird catches the worm.”
“Yeah, like I want to touch a bunch of slimy worms. You early birds can have them.” She crossed her left foot over her right. “I prefer waffles.”
“What would I need for them?” He was definitely interested in her waffles.
“All you need is a waffle iron and the same ingredients as yesterday. Oh, and a phone that doesn’t call people until after ten in the morning.” She yawned for good measure.
“That’s practically lunchtime.”
“What are you, eighty? Eat breakfast at four, lunch at ten, dinner by two, and bedtime at five?” Once she got past his defenses, she really liked him as a person. “I bet you have a Luby’s frequent diner’s card.”
“One more punch and I score a free Luanne Platter.” He grinned. “Nine-thirty.”
“Nine forty-five,” she countered.
“It’s a date.” He smiled directly into her eyes. “I would have waited until ten.”
“I would have gotten up at seven, but thank God, I don’t have to.” She returned his smile and made the mistake of returning his direct gaze. Every molecule in her body urged her to lean over and kiss him lightly on the mouth. Slowly, her weight shifted to the balls of her feet, and she tilted her head up.
“You are definitely different from any other girl I’ve ever known.”
The smile froze on her lips as she rolled back on her heels. Of course she was different. Twenty pounds heavier and a foot and a half taller made her the Amazon ugly duckling in his world full of petite swans. It was a mistake she wouldn’t make again.
“What’s the usual mentor routine?” His eyes flashed with interest.
She noticed that his left
She turned to her class mentor.
Clint’s almost imperceptible sigh of relief tore at her heart. She may not understand his fear of public speaking, but it was very real to him, and being a public figure, he must battle it daily.
She watched as he stood and, with great care, buttoned his suit jacket and turned on the charming smile. It was like watching a medieval knight donning his armor.
“Great class, Ms. Ames.” His eyes twinkled as if he cared. All he needed was a few babies to kiss and he could pass for a politician running for reelection. He’d been so genuine on the phone yesterday. Who was this?
“Thank you.”
“You really relate well to your students. That’s a rare talent. How do you do it?”
She sighed. He was about as real as a Chinese Rolexxx. Flattery as a defense mechanism—it probably served him well.
“That was good—the right mix of charm and interest, but it sounded a little fake. You know, like ‘Vanna, please show us all the A’s in this puzzle.’”
“I don’t understand.” His smile sagged.
“In my classroom, I only have one rule: honesty. You can tell me anything, and I won’t judge or use it against you. I understand your charming, shallow persona is a defense mechanism, but you have nothing to defend against here. The class loves you, so just be yourself.” Summer made direct eye contact and kept her voice no-nonsense so he’d know this wasn’t about pity or mocking.
Clint looked stricken for a second then wiped his face clean. “Nice cake. Did you make it?”
Safe topics. She understood the need for safety. Clearly, he didn’t want to talk about his little problem.
“Yes.” She picked up a handful of papers, tapped them into a neat stack, and placed them in the center of her desk. “Thanks for the Q and A with the students. They liked the informality.”
“Thanks again for the pancakes.” He patted his flat and no doubt hard stomach. “I made them again this morning with real buttermilk. They were fluffier.”
“Yes, the real thing is always better.” She crossed her arms and leaned against her desk. “Call me next Sunday and we’ll make waffles. Only make it a bit later in the day.”
“Early bird catches the worm.”
“Yeah, like I want to touch a bunch of slimy worms. You early birds can have them.” She crossed her left foot over her right. “I prefer waffles.”
“What would I need for them?” He was definitely interested in her waffles.
“All you need is a waffle iron and the same ingredients as yesterday. Oh, and a phone that doesn’t call people until after ten in the morning.” She yawned for good measure.
“That’s practically lunchtime.”
“What are you, eighty? Eat breakfast at four, lunch at ten, dinner by two, and bedtime at five?” Once she got past his defenses, she really liked him as a person. “I bet you have a Luby’s frequent diner’s card.”
“One more punch and I score a free Luanne Platter.” He grinned. “Nine-thirty.”
“Nine forty-five,” she countered.
“It’s a date.” He smiled directly into her eyes. “I would have waited until ten.”
“I would have gotten up at seven, but thank God, I don’t have to.” She returned his smile and made the mistake of returning his direct gaze. Every molecule in her body urged her to lean over and kiss him lightly on the mouth. Slowly, her weight shifted to the balls of her feet, and she tilted her head up.
“You are definitely different from any other girl I’ve ever known.”
The smile froze on her lips as she rolled back on her heels. Of course she was different. Twenty pounds heavier and a foot and a half taller made her the Amazon ugly duckling in his world full of petite swans. It was a mistake she wouldn’t make again.
“What’s the usual mentor routine?” His eyes flashed with interest.
She noticed that his left
Similar Books
