Ryan stifled a laugh. She pronounced it “linger—ee,” and he didn’t want to correct her. He also didn’t want to talk to her about lingerie. “Yep. We’ll add it to the list.”
Ryan’s jaw clenched as the cars in front of him continued to crawl. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. They were less than a kilometre from the school, but at this rate, it might as well have been a hundred.
Amaya put the cap on her pen just as they pulled into the school parking lot. At least there were no cars blocking the drop-off lane this early.
He checked the clock. 6:55. Amaya's choir practice was supposed to start at seven. He shifted into Park and turned to Amaya. "It looks pretty dead around here. You sure you're supposed to be here this early?"
Amaya nodded. "Eli said his mom was dropping him off at six forty-five."
“Good for Eli’s mom,” Ryan muttered. He parked along the curb. “Can you run in and make sure it’s all good?”
“It’s all good, Dad.” Amaya grabbed her bag.
“Yeah, but I want to make sure. Just come back out and wave or something.”
Amaya nodded, then got out of the car and started up the sidewalk. Moseying.
Ryan rolled down the window. “Love you, Amaya. Also, if you could move faster than a turtle?—”
“I love turtles!” She spun around, her eyes wide. Then she stuck out her tongue and broke into a jog toward the school.
He couldn’t be late for his meeting. Going to Denver to watch Jack in the NHL playoffs had burned most of his available vacation days and possibly a bridge with his new boss.
Amaya disappeared into the brick alcove covering the choir and drama entrance. He expected to wait a minute before seeing her again, but she popped back out almost instantly. Not just her, another girl, as well.
Amaya cupped her hands around her mouth. “It’s locked!”
Ryan frowned. He was about to get out of the car when a teacher passed from the parking lot.
“Are you girls here for the rehearsal?” the woman asked. Amaya nodded. “Mr. Owen cancelled that last night.” She turned to Ryan. “I’m so sorry, didn’t you get the email?”
Ryan’s stomach sank as he pulled out his phone and swiped to his inbox. Nothing from the school. Though . . . He checked his other folders, and sure enough. A message from Mr. Owen in “Updates” instead of his general inbox.
Ryan forced a smile and nodded to the teacher, then swore under his breath. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He needed to get to work, but school didn’t start for another forty-five minutes. He wasn’t going to make Amaya wait outside the school.
“Dad? Is it really cancelled?” Amaya was close enough not to shout.
Ryan nodded. “Looks like it.” He turned to the girl standing behind Amaya on the sidewalk. She looked to be Amaya’s age. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her backpack hung off one shoulder.
Amaya moved out of the way. “This is Bailey. She’s in choir with me.” Bailey gave a small wave.
“Are you okay?" he asked.
Bailey nodded. “My mom must not have gotten the emaileither.” She looked down at her hands. Ryan wasn’t sure, but it looked like she may have been crying.
“She left you here?” Ryan asked, his protective instincts flaring. What kind of mother would drop off their kid and dash? Not checking whether they got in safely?
Ryan looked at his watch. He was going to be late. There was no way around it. He ran a hand over his face.
“I don’t live far. Ten blocks that way.” Bailey pointed down the street.
Was that little girl speak for, “Can you please take me home?” He doubted any mother would be thrilled with their daughter getting in the car with a stranger, but which was worse? Him giving her a ride or her sitting alone outside the school for forty-five minutes? She already looked chilled.
Ryan sighed. "Alright, hop in, girls. Let's get you home. Amaya, grab your backpack."
Amaya rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag off the grass. “I didn’t know you lived so close to the school.”
Bailey nodded as she waited for Amaya to get in the car, then slid onto the seat next to her. "My parents wanted to be close. So I could ride my bike. But now my dad won’t let me."
