Based on Principal: Fanboys Book 3

by Johnston, Marie

  Her bright gaze pierced him like she had laser vision. The rest of her wasn’t any less severe. Did she get a headache from binding her hair so tightly? Did she ever smile?

  She was probably stunning when she smiled.

  She sure wasn’t smiling now. “I don’t believe so.”

  He cleared his mind of all things attractive about Ms. Shaw. Like how her skirt wrapped snuggly around her hips when she circled her desk.

  Yeah, those things. That was what he needed to clear. He was in the principal’s office for his daughter.

  He wished it were the first time. No, he wished there were no first time, but he’d been on a first-name basis with all of Jaycee’s principals. This was his first time at Preston Academy, but only because it was her freshman year.

  What was Ms. Shaw’s first name? Was it sturdy like Gertrude? Or ethereal like…Natalia?

  He covered his start by shifting in the uncomfortable chair. What was he doing pondering Ms. Shaw when he’d planned to call Natalia tomorrow night? He’d been patiently waiting for the three-day window to pass so he wouldn’t look too desperate before he called her. And since he counted Saturday as day one, that made today time to call. He didn’t want to be forgotten.

  Ms. Shaw’s firm voice cut through his thoughts, her eyes hard. They were the brown of Gambit’s trench coat, not too dark, not too light, but interspersed with green. He would’ve remembered her if they’d met before.

  She described Jaycee’s tardiness and the way she was acting out with one of her teachers. Again with the last name.

  If only her previous teachers had stayed firm, but too many of them had indulged her. The private school wouldn’t, but they might fear his ex’s parents’ wrath. Their pocketbooks had more say than he did.

  He processed everything she said about Jaycee and started with the most concerning. “Is there a limit to the amount of tardiness?”

  “No.” Ms. Shaw arranged a stack of papers that had already been in a tight pile. That was a good way to describe her office. Tight and tidy. Just like the woman.

  But he couldn’t help his mind wandering to the way the cut of her jacket highlighted her shoulders before it tapered down to her waist and flared at her hips. She wasn’t a waif. Ms. Shaw hid her figure, but she couldn’t hide her strength. What did she do for a workout?

  He had to quit obsessing about a woman he’d just met…in favor of another woman he’d just met.

  Was he that desperate to date again? His personal life had been slow since he’d left his career behind to be more available for Jaycee. It was hard to strike up a conversation with an intelligent, professionally successful woman that started with “I work in a comic book shop.”

  He never admitted to owning it. Would that even help? Certainly not when they found out the co-owner was married to one of the wealthiest men in the Twin Cities. Mara’s husband didn’t lend a financial hand, but he had connections that had saved Chris and Mara a lot of green when they’d been planning the store.

  Arcadia was successful in its own right, but he wasn’t about to sit and defend his current profession to get laid. But he doubted he’d ever find a woman who’d stick around long enough to find out.

  “Let me rephrase my answer,” Ms. Shaw continued. “There is a policy, but it’s been sorely ignored and I’m updating it. Three times leads to detention, five leads to suspension, and more than five will result in expulsion.”

  His brows rose. Ms. Shaw wasn’t fucking around. How was he going to get Jaycee through four years of high school?

  Ms. Shaw snagged a pair of dark-rimmed glasses and shoved them on. Could she not see him or were they her form of armor? “Jaycee has earned two hours of detention, but combined with the other behavior, I was concerned enough to feel a visit with you was warranted. We’ll settle on detention for now, but due to the number of issues, one more infraction and it’ll be suspension.”

  When Jaycee had come home at the beginning of the month with news about a new principal and juicy gossip about the old one, he’d been nothing more than mildly interested. Then she’d come home after Ms. Shaw’s first day complaining about what an iron maiden she was. He’d asked Jaycee if she’d say the same thing about a male principal. An eye roll had been his only answer.

  The last principal hadn’t impressed him. During orientation, the guy had worked the parental crowd like a life-insurance salesman. He was everyone’s friend and the more you spent, the more privileges your kid got. Chris had hardly spoken to the guy.

  “Perhaps it’s time to bring Jaycee in.” Ms. Shaw rose and Chris reclined in his chair, trying not to feel like he was relaxing for the show.

  That tight ass rounded the desk as she walked to the door to call in Jaycee. He jerked his gaze away. The short beige heels she wore were enough to make her butt wiggle and incite all kinds of fantasies. He hadn’t seen an ass that great since… Well, since Saturday.

  She returned to her desk and thankfully he was distracted by his daughter slumping into the seat next to him.

  He looked at her with what he hoped was fatherly disappointment, but Jaycee only jerked her gaze to Ms. Shaw like, am I right?

  And, yeah, he kinda wanted to fist-bump his daughter and say dude, spot on.

  He directed his gaze back to the principal. She was coolly studying Jaycee. Dammit. But if Jaycee insisted on a lack of tack, she’d have to pay the consequences.

  Which was why he was here.

  Ms. Shaw shuffled the same stack of papers. Was that their only function? Instead of a stress ball, she had papers? “With detention, we offer two choices. All at once after school—I’m here until then and can supervise. Or one hour on two consecutive days. It’d start tomorrow.”

  Jaycee only had her permit and the private school couldn’t use a public school service bus. He usually left work to pick her up and she came to the store with him. She used to love it. Until this semester started.

  “She’ll do two hours tomorrow.” He absolutely didn’t make that decision to see Ms. Shaw again. He was confident solid relationships didn’t start with picking a kid up from detention.

  Ms. Shaw lifted a brow at Jaycee. His daughter shrugged and avoided looking at him.

  “About the name-calling—”

  Jaycee cut Ms. Shaw off. “Oh my god. Mr. Budinsky’s an adult, and he’s getting snippy about a kid messing up his name?”

  “Jaycee…” He hadn’t intended to say more, but Ms. Shaw was gazing at him like she was waiting for him to finish. He scrambled to find an acceptable reproach. “It’s about respect.”

  “Then he can respect what I want to be called. Yet he refuses to use Richards.” She crossed one leg over the other and folded her arms. He knew that mutinous look, the one she wore when she refused to listen. A spear of fear went through him when she pinned Ms. Shaw with that look. “I mean what if people called you Mrs. Shaw and knew perfectly well you’re not married?” He cringed at the way she stressed not married. It wasn’t a death sentence to be single. “Or what if they called you Natalie instead of Natalia?”

  He jerked his head to face Ms. Shaw. Natalia Shaw. What were the odds her name was the same as—

  What were the odds her ass was as spectacular in a skirt as in a Valaria costume? What were the odds he’d feel like they’d met before?

  The odds were pretty damn good. She couldn’t hide that mouth, just like she couldn’t hide the poleaxed expression in her widened eyes. His daughter’s principal, the women he couldn’t quit lusting over, was the same woman he’d held in his arms just days ago.

  * * *

  Ah, hell. How had she thought she was going to get away with that? If her first name was more common, Chris might’ve still doubted whether they knew each other or not. But the moment recognition hit him was obvious, as his soft brown eyes flared and he sat back like he’d hit a force field. But invisible forces were for comic books, along with the thought that a mask or thick-rimmed glass was an adequate disguise.

  Natalia
forced herself to focus on the topic at hand. “I understand why you’re upset, but the issue of your last name is between you and your father. It is Preston Academy’s policy to address each student by their legal name. We don’t use nicknames, nor will we accommodate a last name that is not your legal last name. If you wish to be addressed by a different name, it will need to be reflected on your birth certificate.” It was why Natalia was Ms. Shaw and not Ms. Preston. She’d suffered enough through prep school with that last name.

  When she’d been groomed to take over for her father and fix his good ol’ boy oversights, she’d legally changed her name.

  “I wasn’t exactly asked an opinion about my birth certificate,” Jaycee said snidely.

  “As I said, that is between you and your parents. Due to your current level of detention, further disuse of Mr. Budinsky’s name will result in suspension and possibly expulsion.” Usually, she looked the parents in the eye when she stated that consequence, but she couldn’t right now.

  Jaycee’s eyes flew wide. “For saying Mr. Butt-in-ski once in a while? You can’t be serious.”

  “Jaycee—” Chris’s voice was more exasperated than warning. Natalia wanted to tell him that he was in charge, not Jaycee, but like the last name thing, that was between him and Jaycee. Natalia’s concern was the girl’s behavior at school.

  “Dad!”

  Natalia cut in before the focus was taken off the more severe problem. “I’m taking into account the tardiness. Perhaps you need to think long and hard about how much you want a boy to affect your prep school time.” Jaycee blinked at her. Nope. The girl hadn’t thought of it like that before and she was attempting to control her environment left and right. From the way Chris’s jaw clenched, he hadn’t thought of it like that either. “It’s a lot of power to give a boy when you’ll be facing the repercussions.”

  “Jaycee, wait outside while I talk to Ms. Shaw.”

  Natalia squirmed under his commanding tone. She’d only known him as easygoing. Today, he’d been almost defeated and sheepish, but now… At the moment, not even Jaycee argued with him.

  Jaycee huffed out of her chair and stepped outside. Thanks to the easy-close hinges, the door didn’t slam. How many students would’ve gotten detention just for that otherwise?

  Chris lifted his gaze to hers. Her heart hammered. “So. Turns out we’ve met.”

  “You can understand why I didn’t confirm your suspicions.”

  A muscle jumped in his jaw. She’d almost nibbled that muscle the other day. She would’ve nibbled a lot more than that.

  He glared out her window. “She’s upset.”

  Natalia blinked. She’d been prepared for him to ruminate on her deceit, stay upset with her, but he’d moved on to the issues with Jaycee. Understandable, but… Well, she’d thought she’d made a bigger impression. Not that this was the time to dwell on it.

  “Understandable.” She wanted so badly to know what had happened between Jaycee’s mother and him. Usually, she preferred not to know. Getting the general impression of what was going on at home was enough to understand the motivation behind the delinquent behavior. Beyond that, her priority was the school.

  But she was insatiably curious about Chris.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face, leaving his hair ruffled in the front. He didn’t style his hair and it hung longer than the professionals she usually ran across. Her teachers were clean-cut and adhered to a dress code. The guys she dated were suit men, with the uptight personalities to match their cinched ties.

  Chris was…loose. Not sloppy, but relaxed. Nothing like the guys who’d caught her eye before. But the fire flashing in his gaze when that couple had been haranguing him had caught her attention faster than a speeding bullet. Put all of it together and he was the last guy she expected to be one of her students’ parents.

  “She’s… She can’t get kicked out of school.” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His jeans hugged his thighs, and damn. She’d felt his body plastered up against her Saturday. His Suicide Squad shirt hugged an impressive chest. And now she was envious of the polyester cotton blend.

  He was watching her. Quit lusting, Ms. Shaw. Valaria wouldn’t back down if she were busted. “Yes, well, I laid out what she has to do.”

  “I suppose you can’t tell me the name of the boy.”

  Grateful he wasn’t trying to force the issue, she shook her head. “I can assure you that I will also be having a discussion with him and his parents.” And the teacher who hadn’t reported Dresden Wentworth. “I can recommend not making him forbidden. That tends to make the other party more appealing.”

  Chris nodded. “Her grandparents would— If she got kicked out, they’d never forgive me. And they’d use it to…” He gave a helpless shrug and shot her a small smile. “She’s third generation at Preston Academy.”

  Was it bad that it showed? In Natalia’s experience, the kids whose families had a history with the school had what she’d come to call “entitlement syndrome.” They should’ve tried growing up the kid of the school’s founders. That sense of entitlement would’ve been knocked right out of them by the other students.

  “It’s clear she’s working through stuff. I don’t want to expel her.”

  “I know.” He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Did you buy that at Arcadia?’

  A burst of alarm went through her when he pointed to her prism. “Yes, actually. Wasn’t that the booth you were working at?” Her cheeks flooded with heat at the reminder of their kiss.

  “Yes. I work at Arcadia.”

  She cocked her head. How did a guy who worked at a comic book shop afford private school tuition? Preston Academy didn’t do scholarships for students who couldn’t propel them toward sports championships—and wouldn’t as long as her father had a say.

  He gave her a wry grin. “How does a single dad who isn’t a lawyer, bank president, or international something or other send his daughter to school here?”

  She chuckled. “Yes, I was wondering that.”

  “Her grandparents foot the bill. It was a concession they made when her mother gave up on raising her. I agree to send her here and they cover tuition and won’t fight me for custody.”

  “But you’re her father.”

  “Yep. But they’re loaded and I was too naïve when I was younger. Look, I know I’m not winning Dad of the Year, but Jaycee would have free rein at their place. She’d have the same personality as her mother and lack the character to follow through with challenges when the going gets tough.”

  And if she got kicked out, they’d fight him and he wouldn’t be able to keep Jaycee. Wouldn’t that mess with her head more? To feel like her dad had given up on her, too?

  “I’m sorry, Chris. I really am. We’ve been going through some growing pains. The schools have been successful and they don’t always attract the people with the best morals to run them. I’m the one they bring in to clean the place up. Part of that is assuring our standards are maintained. That includes discipline.”

  He watched her for a heartbeat. She shifted in her seat. His intense scrutiny created another flush under her collar that went south. How could she be getting turned on just from him looking at her—in her office!

  “Natalia—Ms. Shaw.” He said her first name like a caress. Did she look as panicked as she felt? “Can you let me know immediately if Jaycee even seems like she’s going to have more problems? I really need to avoid a legal battle with her grandparents until she’s graduated.”

  No favoritism. But instead of a rejection, she said, “Sure.”

  Was he her kryptonite? Seven years of strict ethics and she was caving to one plea from a guy who’d made her toes curl with a kiss.

  Not that it could ever happen again. Some days, she hated her job.

  Most days.

  She glanced at the prism. “Um, Chris. People here don’t know about my hobby.”

  “Cosplay?”

  She adjusted her shoulders and her gaze darted to t
he door. “I’d like to keep it private. It’s hard to be the boss when they think—”

  “—you’re a geek?”

  Geez, that felt so wrong to admit. But she wasn’t known to dress up for Halloween anymore. She did, Halloween or not. But no one knew about it.

  “Yeah, I get that. You notice Jaycee wasn’t at the convention helping me work the booth?”

  “I’m surprised. With all the blockbusters, it’s not as if being a fangirl or boy is the kiss of social death it used to be.”

  “My guess is that the boy making her late for class isn’t into it.”

  Ah yes. At least he wasn’t totally ignorant about factors affecting behavior.

  He straightened, a mix of defeat and determination on his face. “I’d better get back. Mara’s covering for me and we start getting busy once school lets out.” His wry smile reminded her of Saturday when they’d chatted over gyros. “Not all kids are ashamed of their interests.”

  She squashed her dismay down and stood up. She was an adult who kept more secrets than an undercover agent, but he wasn’t the type to slip a subtle dig in when she’d asked him to keep her secret. But then, how would she know? Talking to him for an hour and making out with him for two minutes weren’t enough to determine his personality. All the other guys she’d dated had no issues dissing her.

  She did a quick mental check that her hands weren’t sweaty and then stuck one out. He clasped it, his grip strong but not harsh and his hand warm. The contact didn’t last long. He didn’t drop her hand like a lead paperweight; he let his own slip off so gently she almost lunged to grab it back.

  She was the principal. Her brain was screaming that a student’s dad was off-limits. But her body wasn’t getting the message.

  He towered over her by at least eight inches. Her head would fit perfectly against his broad chest. As she gazed up at him, the blatant desire she’d seen when they first met was back. Her memory was as sharp as a tack when it summoned the feel and taste of him. He was so close and it was just the two of them.

  Shoving his hands into his pockets—to keep from sweeping her into his arms again?—he smiled. “I guess this means I shouldn’t call you.”