right on track to fail.”
“Does she get credit for being consistent?” he joked.
I slammed the pen I was holding down on my desk. “You’re not taking this seriously. She’s failing Alex, miserably.”
“But she’s getting a B in English,” he replied, shrugging. “That means she can read and write – pretty competently as it turns out. She’s also getting a C in maths. It’s not spectacular, but I’ll take it. Her competency in French isn’t really important to me.”
I was furious with him. “A failing grade shouldn’t be acceptable in any class!”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Are you going to cry, Mademoiselle Décarie?”
I straightened up in my seat. “Of course not,” I scoffed.
“Good.” He smirked at me. “I’ve just spent twenty-minutes with Mrs Jennings. She has a difficult time teaching Charli too. She was in tears by the end of our meeting,” he explained. “The woman teaches cooking. Do you see a pattern forming here?”
“Yes. Your sister is a brat,” I hissed.
It was a terrible thing to say. I’d never sunken so low when describing a student, even one as wicked as Charli. I apologised immediately.
“Don’t be sorry,” he replied, smiling at me. “It’s a fair assessment, and you can rest assured I won’t be letting it slide. But you have to understand, I pick my battles carefully where that kid is concerned. If she can read, write and add up, I’m satisfied. If she can’t cook or speak French, I won’t lose sleep.”
I wanted to slap the smug look right off his perfect face. I also wanted to reach across my desk and hug him. I’d long felt sorry for Alex. He was far too young to be burdened with the responsibility of raising a sixteen-year old girl.
“Are you planning to sort this out?” I waved my page of notes at him.
He grinned. “Of course I am.”
“How?” I was curious to know.
“I have my ways.”
I couldn’t help laughing at him, which was probably a mistake. It brought out the flirty side of him.
“You’re very pretty, especially when you smile,” he said quietly. “You should do it more often.”
“I’ll have you know I smile all the time,” I defended. “Just not in the presence of you or your sister.”
He laughed, a superb deep sound that matched his voice. “Give me the work Charli missed.”
“Excuse me?”
He held out his hand. “Give me the assignments she missed and I’ll have her do them. They’ll be on your desk on Monday.”
I leaned to the side and opened my desk drawer. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” I muttered, thumbing through the papers inside.
“Oh, ye of little faith,” he crowed, snatching the papers from me as soon as I held them out. “She’ll do it.”
“Well, if she does, I’ll be very impressed.”
Alex stood up, preparing to leave. “Impressed enough to go out to dinner with me?”
My heart seemed to falter at the suggestion. Flirty innuendo from Alex was nothing new. Actually asking me out was, and I wasn’t prepared for it.
A witty reply was never going to happen. “Yes.”
He walked toward the door. “Great. It’s a date.”
“No it’s not,” I retorted, making him turn back. “She hasn’t completed the work yet.”
He waved the papers I’d given him. “Monday.”
2.TENSION
There were only two places in town that sold coffee. One squirted canned cream into instant coffee and called it a cappuccino. I’m French. That automatically made such a concoction intolerable.
Alex made decent coffee, which left me with no choice when it came to choosing cafés.
“Good morning, Gabrielle,” he greeted.
“Mr Blake,” I replied, nodding just once.
He smiled at me. “The usual?”
“Yes, please.” I pulled out a stool and sat down at the counter while he set about making my latte.
“So, I was thinking,” he began, glancing back at me. “I think we need to change the terms of our date.”
“Is that so?” I replied, totally
“Does she get credit for being consistent?” he joked.
I slammed the pen I was holding down on my desk. “You’re not taking this seriously. She’s failing Alex, miserably.”
“But she’s getting a B in English,” he replied, shrugging. “That means she can read and write – pretty competently as it turns out. She’s also getting a C in maths. It’s not spectacular, but I’ll take it. Her competency in French isn’t really important to me.”
I was furious with him. “A failing grade shouldn’t be acceptable in any class!”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Are you going to cry, Mademoiselle Décarie?”
I straightened up in my seat. “Of course not,” I scoffed.
“Good.” He smirked at me. “I’ve just spent twenty-minutes with Mrs Jennings. She has a difficult time teaching Charli too. She was in tears by the end of our meeting,” he explained. “The woman teaches cooking. Do you see a pattern forming here?”
“Yes. Your sister is a brat,” I hissed.
It was a terrible thing to say. I’d never sunken so low when describing a student, even one as wicked as Charli. I apologised immediately.
“Don’t be sorry,” he replied, smiling at me. “It’s a fair assessment, and you can rest assured I won’t be letting it slide. But you have to understand, I pick my battles carefully where that kid is concerned. If she can read, write and add up, I’m satisfied. If she can’t cook or speak French, I won’t lose sleep.”
I wanted to slap the smug look right off his perfect face. I also wanted to reach across my desk and hug him. I’d long felt sorry for Alex. He was far too young to be burdened with the responsibility of raising a sixteen-year old girl.
“Are you planning to sort this out?” I waved my page of notes at him.
He grinned. “Of course I am.”
“How?” I was curious to know.
“I have my ways.”
I couldn’t help laughing at him, which was probably a mistake. It brought out the flirty side of him.
“You’re very pretty, especially when you smile,” he said quietly. “You should do it more often.”
“I’ll have you know I smile all the time,” I defended. “Just not in the presence of you or your sister.”
He laughed, a superb deep sound that matched his voice. “Give me the work Charli missed.”
“Excuse me?”
He held out his hand. “Give me the assignments she missed and I’ll have her do them. They’ll be on your desk on Monday.”
I leaned to the side and opened my desk drawer. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” I muttered, thumbing through the papers inside.
“Oh, ye of little faith,” he crowed, snatching the papers from me as soon as I held them out. “She’ll do it.”
“Well, if she does, I’ll be very impressed.”
Alex stood up, preparing to leave. “Impressed enough to go out to dinner with me?”
My heart seemed to falter at the suggestion. Flirty innuendo from Alex was nothing new. Actually asking me out was, and I wasn’t prepared for it.
A witty reply was never going to happen. “Yes.”
He walked toward the door. “Great. It’s a date.”
“No it’s not,” I retorted, making him turn back. “She hasn’t completed the work yet.”
He waved the papers I’d given him. “Monday.”
2.TENSION
There were only two places in town that sold coffee. One squirted canned cream into instant coffee and called it a cappuccino. I’m French. That automatically made such a concoction intolerable.
Alex made decent coffee, which left me with no choice when it came to choosing cafés.
“Good morning, Gabrielle,” he greeted.
“Mr Blake,” I replied, nodding just once.
He smiled at me. “The usual?”
“Yes, please.” I pulled out a stool and sat down at the counter while he set about making my latte.
“So, I was thinking,” he began, glancing back at me. “I think we need to change the terms of our date.”
“Is that so?” I replied, totally
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