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Prologue

He was late again. The school bus riders had already left, and she was the only one waiting to be picked up.

Pulling her backpack farther up her shoulder, Zoey started tapping her foot in frustration. Her father was always late, despite knowing the time she got out of school.

“Let’s go in the office, and I’ll call.”

Embarrassed that the teacher was irritated at not being able to leave herself, she followed her fifth-grade teacher back inside. Her father’s increasing habit of picking her up late was wearing on the school’s staff. Zoey might only be eleven years old, but she was smart enough to see the irritation between the teacher and the principal when they came through the office door.

Zoey took a seat where she could see out the window to the parking lot, hoping her father would pull up and get out with the same happy-go-lucky expression he always wore on his handsome face. The women behind the desk couldn’t hide their aggravation with her, but the second her father walked through the door, it would disappear.

Her father was not only handsome but could draw their anger out of them without a word spoken. It made no difference if the teacher was male or female; he could charm both sexes with very little effort.

Swinging her legs, she glanced down at her lap and stopped tugging her short dress lower. She hated the dress. It was too small and the pattern made her body look like a pineapple was shoved inside of it.

Not only was her father late, but he had taken back the clothes they had bought her for the start of the school year. She had managed to wear them for a couple of weeks before she returned from school one afternoon to see them all gone. Just like the furniture he had leased to fill the lavish home he had rented to lure clients into whatever deal he was trying to sell them.

“There he is.”

Zoey raised her lashes to see her principal smoothing her hair and her teacher straightening her dress. Rolling her eyes, she picked up the backpack she dropped to the floor when she came inside the office.

“Sorry, kiddo. I was held up in a meeting.” He shot her the quick apology before turning his charismatic appeal on the women, who were both becoming flustered as he drew closer to the desk.

“Ladies, how can I make it up to you? The traffic took me longer than I expected.”

“That’s okay. I know how busy you are.”

“I need to find a wife to help me out. Either of you beautiful ladies available?”

Her stomach clenched in a gut-twisting motion that had her regretting the afterschool snack she had eaten. The only thing worse than dealing with her father was having to put up with another stepmother.

She’d had four so far, and those were the ones she was old enough to remember. She had grown out of being excited about having a mother who would provide stability to the chaos her father created from his lies.

“Sue is married, but I’m as free as a bird.”

“Are the men in this town blind?”

Their blushes grew darker as they became even more flustered.

The nausea that was churning in her stomach began to burn as it tried to escape at her father’s cunning smile that she had no problem recognizing, while the women didn’t.

Ms. Reed raised her a ringless hand, showing her naked ring finger as proof. “It seems so.”

The teacher nearly gushed when he took her hand in his.

“Then you have to let me show you that not all men are too stupid to recognize a beautiful woman when they see one.”

The principal, wanting her own share of attention, moved closer to his other side. “George and I are on a break. We’ve grown apart since he changed jobs and he’s on the road so much.”

“You need to tell George that all work and no play makes George a dull boy.”

Her principal’s laughter at her husband’s expense had Zoey clutching her belly in pain.

“Dad….”

Her father turned and easily recognized the signs of her distress. “Can you make it home, or do you need to go to the restroom?”

“I can make it home.” Putting a hand over her mouth, she rushed to the door, needing to get away from the women who were vying for his attention.

“Sorry, ladies. My little princess’s ulcer is acting up again. I need to get her home before you have to call the janitor.”

“Zoey has an ulcer? I didn’t see that on her file when you registered her.”

“It’s a new diagnosis; nothing to worry about. I give her medicine before I bring her to school and in the evenings. As soon as I get her home, she’ll be fine.” Giving them both a promising smile, he turned to follow Zoey out of the office.


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