The Widower's Second Chance. Jessica Keller

The Widower's Second Chance - Jessica  Keller


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sad indeed, but the board still shouldn’t have let him have his way in everything. I’m warning you from the beginning, he may have a very rough time with this transition. Having you at Sarah’s Home will be hard on him. Don’t hear me wrong. Caleb’s a good man, and he does what he thinks is best—safest—for everyone.” The principal straightened a pile on his desk. “Now here’s a valid question. Are you afraid to be in Brookside after what he said?”

      “No disrespect to Caleb, but I taught gang members in my classes in Chicago.” Paige shrugged. “It’s something you get used to. As weird as that sounds. We evacuated the school at least once a month for a bomb threat or something along those lines. It wasn’t so fun when you had to rush out of the school in the middle of winter, but we managed.”

      “I figured as much. Between you and me, the place could use the infusion of some new blood. Now, there is one other thing I want to discuss with you if you have another moment.” Timmons opened a manila file on his desk. “You played volleyball in college, right?”

      “All four years.” Paige tried to smile, but her mind was still on Sarah’s Home. With Caleb against the idea, hopefully he wouldn’t make her time there uncomfortable.

      “Would you be willing to sit in on tryouts this year? We had some troubles last year...accusations of unfair selections. I’d like the decision to be made by more than just the coach.”

      Who Bree had told her happened to be Amy. Great. But after what Bree said about teachers needing to be involved, she couldn’t say no to her first chance. And it was only tryouts, not a commitment to coaching all season.

      Paige chose her words carefully. “I guess I wouldn’t mind helping, but I don’t want to step on any more toes than I feel like I already have. Are you sure my help would be well received?”

      “Show up at the gym tomorrow afternoon, and leave the coach to me. It’ll all be fine.”

      Famous last words.

      Her bags felt heavier than before as she left the office. She came to Goose Harbor to get away from drama, yet it seemed like she’d just found more. Paige shuffled out of the office, suddenly not looking forward to lugging all her bags home anymore.

      Caleb leaned on the lockers across from the main office, his hands jammed in his pockets. Paige kept her head down and walked in the opposite direction from him.

      “Wait up.” He caught up to her in two strides. “Look, I’m sorry for how I sounded in there. I shouldn’t have gotten worked up. Can we talk about this a little more?”

      The canvas bag bit into her shoulder, and she switched it to the other arm. “Not if you’re just going to tell me no again.”

      “Let me drive you back to Maggie’s.”

      “What?”

      “A ride. To the inn. You have a lot of bags.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

      She glanced out the front doors. Wind still tickled the trees. Even still, the temperature outside had climbed all day. She’d already considered digging out her bathing suit and heading to the beach later. A ride might not be such a bad idea.

      And she and Caleb worked together—she’d have to talk to him again at some point. Might as well get over the awkwardness now while she had the chance.

      “Know what? It’s hot. I’ll take you up on the offer.”

      He eased both bags from her hands. “I’m parked at the far end of the lot. How about I bring these out to my truck while you wait here? I’ll pull up to the front circle.” He turned to leave before Paige had a chance to reconsider.

      She stood in the lobby and watched him make his way to a large green pickup parked at the back of the lot. Almost everyone had left for the day. The empty school smelled like a mixture of musty old books and industrial strength pine cleaner. Paige pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting the headaches that always plagued her from allergies this time of year.

      The woman Bree had pointed out as Amy clipped down the hall toward her on three-inch heels. Her lips were a glossy just-bit-into-a-pomegranate red. A stylish belt with a bejeweled buckle accentuated the woman’s trim midsection, and with her blouse unbuttoned at least one button too many, her knotted string of black pearls laid in just the right place to draw even more male attention—as if a woman that stunning needed it.

      “You won’t last.” Amy stopped a few feet away. She crossed her arms over her chest.

      “Excuse me?” Paige straightened her spine.

      Now probably wasn’t the best time to tell Amy she’d be at the volleyball tryouts.

      “They haven’t been able to keep anyone in that position for years.” Amy took a step closer as she eyed Paige from head to toe and found her lacking. The woman towered over her.

      Paige focused on the plaque fixed to the wall behind Amy’s head. Her father had told her once that fondness might not be within her control, but kindness always was. Be kind.

      “Thanks for the heads-up.” She forced a smile.

      “Tell me you’ve at least taught before.”

      Paige forced her shoulders and hands to relax, a trick she’d learned over the years from her lawyer father—a master of hiding emotions. Don’t let anyone know they’ve ruffled your feathers. “Yes. Three years in Chicago.”

      Amy laughed and splayed her hand across her ample bosom. “Goose Harbor is completely different than a big city. You won’t last. Not with the people in this town and not with that attitude.”

      Attitude?

      Caleb honked the horn of his pickup from the circle drive.

      Paige jumped. “I have to go.”

      Amy trailed her down the front steps. “You’re with Caleb?”

      Whatever that meant.

      “Yes.” Paige sidestepped Amy to get to the passenger door.

      “But—”

      She yanked the handle. “Sorry, I really have to leave.”

      Paige climbed into the cab and buckled her seat belt. She pulled down the visor on the mirror and pretended to check for something in her eye to avoid Caleb’s gaze.

      Making Amy think she and Caleb were an item probably wasn’t her best idea. Besides, why would a guy as handsome as Caleb want to be with someone like Paige? She blinked at her reflection in the mirror: small nose, a dash of brown-sugar freckles on pale cheeks, scrawny arms and drab blond hair—nothing to write home about. Especially not for a guy who looked like he could be one of those rugged hosts on a home-improvement television show.

      Not that she cared what Caleb or Amy thought of her. She didn’t. Just let her volunteer at Sarah’s Home—that’s all she wanted from him.

      * * *

      Amy sauntered around the front of Caleb’s truck. Not now.

      He sent Paige a look he hoped told her he was sorry for the delay Amy would, no doubt, cause.

      Amy motioned for him to roll down his window. When he did, she leaned on his door and then reached into the car to smooth her hand over an imaginary wrinkle on the sleeve of his shirt. “Running away so quick? Silly man. I didn’t get to talk to you today.”

      Caleb curled his hands around the leather wheel. “You know how it is. The first day is always a whirlwind.”

      She rested her chin in the palm of her hand and lowered her eyelids halfway when she talked. “We’ll have to find some time this week to catch up. Maybe lunch. Or dinner. Or both could be arranged. I could cook for you at my apartment.” She played with her necklace.

      “We’ll see. Have a nice night.” Caleb popped the gear out of Park.

      Amy crossed


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