“What has he done?” Harrison’s voice lowers. “He told my daughter crying was for babies, making her feel as if her emotions are less than valid and that she would be made fun of if she expressed herself in that manner again. And I don’t appreciate?—”
She cuts him off and tosses her hair back flirtatiously. “Oh Harry, they’re just kids.”
“Harry?” I accidentally say out loud when I wanted to say it in my head, but my big mouth opened up instead.
Harrison whips around, and guilt is written all over his face.
“Jules, this is Rachel, Liam’s mom,” he spits out fast, stumbling over his words.
“I’m aware, Harrison, her son is in my class.” I turn toward Rachel. “Nice to see you. Now, can the two of you please speak outside? I don’t need unnecessary tension in my class.” I open the door and gesture for them to leave.
Rachel’s mouth opens and closes like a guppy, whereas Harrison’s face is a sheet of shock.
“Jules—”
“Outside, Harrison,” I snap, then close the door behind them.
Don’t let it hit you in the ass on the way out.
I roll my shoulders and walk back toward the kids since they’re the ones who matter most right now.
Not freakingHarry and Rach.
“My little bakers,” I call out. “Who wants to vote for what we bake next week?”
Me, me, me, me, me, rings out, and I smile as I roll out our board to write down next week’s ideas.
Harrison
Fuck.
I watch my beautiful Juliette through the window. She rolls her shoulders and stands a little taller before returning to the kids.
She’s smart, my girl.
She caught onto Rachel within seconds, and I can feel the jealousy radiating off her from here.
Between the two of us and our jealousy, we have some serious issues for two people who aren’t in a long-term relationship.
“Ugh!” Rach says, speaking up.
“Listen—”
“Please don’t tell me you’re fucking the baker. Is this why you haven’t called me back? And what is she, twelve?” Rachel scoffs loudly, staring at me while I watch Jules.
I was going to try to reason with her, but my hackles went up the second she uttered those words.
“Keep your goddamn voice down, people know who I am in this neighborhood, and they’re going to think I’m a fucking pedophile. She’s twenty-fucking-four.”
She shrugs cockily. “If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck.”
“Still the same old Rachel, a fucking bitch.”
Rachel is for a good time only and has been a super bitch since the day I met her. We sat next to each other at a dinner party, bonded over being single parents, and that’s about it—once she’s annoyed, she doesn’t have one nice bone in her body.
“Same old one you love to fuck. Does miss little sweet thing know how much you love fucking my ass? I can already tell she’stoo sweet for that.” She laughs loudly. “You probably have sex in silence, staring into each other’s eyes. Although…”
“Although what?” I snap, annoyed at myself for engaging.
