Razor's Edge: A Bad Boy Romance (Bad Boys of Football Book 2) (3 page)

“I’ll sit with them for a spell,” Principal Cantor offered.

“So, looks like you’re all mine,” E.J. said, the corners of his lips curling up into a mischievous smile.

Something told me he was talking about more than a friendly conversation between a kindergarten teacher and a concerned parent.

“Use my office,” the principal said.

Felicia returned to the room and stopped in her tracks. “Oh my,” she said, unable to help herself where handsome men were concerned. “Well, hello!”

I glared at her. “This is Edge’s father. E.J. meet Felicia. She’s the school secretary.”

E.J. turned up the heat in the room, saying, “I’d recognize the sexy voice anywhere. Looks like I’m going to have to call the school more often.”

He was good. Really good. Boy was I in trouble.

“Sound
s
  like we’re on the same page, then?” E.J. stood up, offering me his hand again.

I’d spent the last twenty minutes fighting the urge to touch him -- any part of him. It was like he was a magnet and I was drawn to him. So much so, that if I was ever called to testify in court about what we’d discussed, the only things I could swear were the truth, were that his muscles were real -- oh, so real -- and the sound of his voice, made me want to strip my clothes off and jump on him. I’d never remember a word he said, but I’d always remember the tingling I experienced when looking at him.

“I’ll let you get back to class. Here’s my number.” He handed me a business card.

“Oh, your phone number is in the system. I don’t need it. I can grab it if something comes up,” I said, naively believing he was only handing it to me because of the problems I was having with his son in class and not because he was interested in me.

He smiled a sinfully sexy smile. “Take it. You never know when you might need me.”

Good God, did he have to say it like that?

“Thanks,” I said coyly. “I’ll let you know if anything comes up. Er… with Edge, I mean. Can I ask you one last question?”

Licking his lips, he nodded. “Anytime.”

“How are things going at home? Edge mentioned there was some kind of court case going on. How is that going? Does it involve a business matter or something else?” I asked.

Smoothing his beard, he answered, “That’s three questions. Are you trying to take advantage of me because, if you are, I like it. I like it a lot.”

My mouth went dry.
What was he trying to do; make me faint right here?

“I… um… I just… Thanks for coming in to meet with me. It was so nice to meet you… again,” I said to save face. The last thing I needed was to build a reputation for being a bumbling fool in front of a parent -- this particular parent in particular.

He led me out of the room, his large, strong hand on the small of my back. “Edge knows there’s something going on between his mother and I. I try to be as honest as I can without saying something that will change him. You know what I mean? I read somewhere that if you say something about your child’s parent, it changes who the child is, so I try not to say anything bad about my ex in front of him. She’s not making it easy for me, though.”

I understood. My parents divorced when I was a teenager. My mother made it a point not to say anything negative about my good for nothing father. She always treated him with respect when and if he came around, but my father on the other hand, never had a kind word for her. He was jealous, vindictive, and plain salty where my mother was concerned. His attitude about her had a profound effect on me, so I got where he was coming from about how what someone says changes their children’s perceptions of themselves.

“Not to be mean, but isn’t your personal information public knowledge? Don’t you think he’ll find out what’s going on and what’s being said? You play football, right?” I asked.

E.J. stopped walking. “Yeah, I play football. Better than anyone else who has ever played. You really don’t know who I am? Have you been living under a rock?” His tone was sharp, like I’d offended him by not knowing how big a star he’d become since we’d last met.

Well, that escalated quickly.
“Here I was beginning to think, I was wrong about you when we were growing up. I used to think, you were nothing but an inflated ego on legs, but for a second, the tiniest fragment of a second, I started to change my mind. I was even considering apologizing to you for thinking badly of you before. But, now I get it; you may have changed your name, grew some muscles, and bought yourself some fierce contact lenses, but underneath it all, you’re still as full of yourself as you were back then.”

He studied me, staring into my eyes.

I swallowed hard, fearing I’d ensured, I’d be out of a job for offending him.

“So, you still want me? Why didn’t just come out and say it? We could have scratched that itch twenty minutes ago,” he said, sneering at me like a vulture who’d found his prey.

After a few moments of me struggling to formulate words and actually making them leave my mouth, E.J. took pity on me. “Well, you have my number. Use it, burn it or hang it up on your wall; it doesn’t matter to me. Have a good afternoon, Mrs. Jackson.” With that, he turned to walk out of the building.

“What in the hell happened?” Felicia stepped out into the hallway.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I have no idea. Things got out of control.”

Folding her arms in front of her, Felicia used her infamous judging tone. “Well, whose fault is that? Girl, the man is a walking sin. Are you crazy? If you’d played it right, you could be living large. Did you forget how flirting works?”

I sighed. “I’m not trying to flirt. He’s Edge’s dad. Not to mention, he’s also always been a jerk. Why in the world would I want to date him? I’m not trying to date. Like the movie says, I can do bad all by myself.”

“You sure can,” Felicia said, making the sour puss face again. “And, you better get back to your class before Cantor pulls out the rest of his hair. Those kids can smell fear.”

I rushed back to my room, anxious to get back to normal or whatever was normal for me these days. School had only been in session for three weeks and I felt like it had been a year since I had a day off. If my calendar hadn't said I'd only been back in town for less than 3 months, I’d swear on a stack of bibles, I’d been teaching in the United States for years. My husband Sam would laugh at me and how frazzled I’d become since he passed.

When I was teaching in Spain, everything was working out beautifully for me. The children at the international school were kind and ever so eager to learn and to commiserate with an American teacher. It was even better that I happened to be a black American teacher. Many of my former students were minorities. They were military brats, anxious for a taste of home and I could provide it for them. Here, I was just another teacher working in a city school.  It didn’t impress anyone one bit that I was a black woman. Not that it needed to, but I would have at least liked to see some excitement in the students’ eyes when I stepped in the door. Most of the reception I received was ho-hum. No one cared. Least of all, little Edge didn’t care one bit. Kids in his income bracket weren’t impressed by much. They had it all. He, in particular, was always well-groomed and well-dressed like a kid in an upscale catalog.

“Good, you’re back. Maybe now you can actually teach your students something. And, so you know, Edgecott didn’t give me a problem at all,” Principal Cantor said, rubbing the fact he thought he was a far better educator than I in my face. “Do you think you can handle it from here or shall I call another, more experienced teacher in here to help you?”

Don’t punch him. Don’t punch him. No matter what this pudgy little bastard says, please, refrain from going off on him.

“I can handle it fine,” I said, offering him the craziest smile I could muster. It didn’t affect him, but at least, it elicited some laughter from my rambunctious bunch of kids, Edge included.

After the principal left the room, I tried to restore some semblance of order. Why schools no longer honored nap time I’d never understand, but I did the next best thing by revamping my schedule to allow the children some quiet, play time. Not that they were inclined to adhere to the quiet part of the scenario, but it was better than the alternative -- a full-on mutiny, care of the little alpha male-in-training Edge.

Thankfully, my plan to take things down a few notches, including my jumpy nerves, worked. The rest of the day went relatively smoothly for a kindergarten class. By the time the clock ticked closer to the time to call it a day, we were all more than ready to leave and unwind. I walked the children outside and prepared to say my much-needed goodbyes for the day.

“Daddy!” Edge jumped up and down, screaming with excitement. “I’m hungry. Can we go eat some paella?”

“Paella? Wow!” I hadn’t realized I said it aloud. I turned to find E.J. sauntering up with all his swagger and sex appeal oozing out of him. “I’m impressed.”

“With me or with the paella?” E.J. asked, nodding and shaking hands with enamored parents. His eyes were on mine, completely oblivious to what the parents were saying to him as he signed autographs and smiled for cell phone cameras.

“Both, I guess. Do you normally pick Edge up? Forgive me, but I’ve never seen you in the pickup line,” I said to let him know I’d been paying attention.

He shook his head. “Usually my business manager, assistants or my attorney pick him up for me, but it’s been a day, so I thought I’d pick him up myself.”

“Those women are your staff members? How many assistants do you have?” I asked.

Edge answered for him. “Too many. We have way too many women, don’t we, Daddy? We have to get rid of them so we can just be boys, right?”

E.J. smiled. “That’s right. When you’re as good looking as we are, son, women are everywhere.”

I rolled my eyes.
Same guy, just a few years older.

“I’m kidding,” E.J. said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Well, let’s go before the vultures take a bite out of us.” He nodded to me. “Have a good night. Um, if you want to talk about stuff, you have my number.”

I sure did.

Principal Cantor was so quiet; I didn’t hear him walk up behind us. “Was there a problem? I didn’t hear anything about there being another problem today.” He looked at me with accusing eyes.

E.J must have sensed the tension between us because he intervened before things turned sour. “No, there wasn’t a problem at all. I think Mrs. Jackson has--”

“Ms. Jackson. You don’t have to call me Mrs. anymore. Actually, you can call me Hillary if you like,” I said.

“Hillary?” E.J. smiled.

Of course, he didn’t remember my name. Why would he? I was just another girl in school. There were a thousand of us in school, so why would he have remembered my name?

“Yes, that’s my name. I know it’s so common, you couldn’t possibly remember it, but yes, that’s my name,” I snapped at him, annoyed I had to explain it to him.

He smiled again. “I remember your last name. Well, your maiden name. It’s Defensive, isn’t it?”

Oh, he had jokes! Somehow on top of becoming a major celebrity football player, he also managed to become a comedian too. Excuse me; I didn’t realize I was standing next to a triple threat.

“Like I said, give me a call later and we’ll talk about things.” E.J. winked at me.

I looked at Principal Cantor, afraid he’d be fuming, but I was surprised to find he just seemed perplexed, not angry. “Yes, make sure you make the phone call, Mrs. Jackson,” he said, pretending like it was a great idea.

“I guess,” I answered noncommittally. “I guess, I will.”