HeartThrob: A single dad romantic comedy (Heart Duet Book 1) Page 2

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  A chill coursed through my body, even in the Texas heat.

  She couldn’t be serious.

  I swallowed hard, trying to rack my brain for the best excuse, but nothing came to mind. Stupid creative brain.

  If she was asking me for a vape shop logo concept, I could ramble off something quickly, but an excuse to not work with a hot dad who already seemed to despise me? Well, that was a bit harder.

  “Oh, I see Judy Crenshaw is moving in front of you, so I’ll let you go and get your email from the directory to send you and Lennox the deets.” Amy tapped on the side of my car, her voice still carrying that excited little high octave.

  “Great,” I muttered, watching the fancy SUV in front of me slowly pulling forward.

  Might not have been the escape I was looking for, but maybe I wouldn’t need it and Lennox would decline to work with me.

  That thought had my heart sinking more than it should.

  I didn’t even know the guy other than what I saw on TV. Our only real encounter was him being a jerk, so what was I afraid of?

  That I’d get rejected and have my heart stepped on.

  Where the hell did that come from?

  I wasn’t even remotely on Lennox’s radar and no way I probably ever would be.

  I just had to move on.

  Which, by the way my heart was racing as I pulled up to the school, glancing to see if I caught a glimpse of him in pick-up line, was going to be a lot harder than it sounded.

  A short woman in a blue cardigan with glasses perched on her nose opened my back door, her hand clasped around Ariana’s.

  I sucked in a breath, bracing myself for what was probably going to be a talk from this woman about “the incident,” as the principal and Amy called it.

  Instead, the woman smiled as she helped Ariana into the car.

  “She had a great first day, and I loved having her in music class. She and Juniper were a hoot singing together and holding hands,” the woman said, beaming at me.

  I should have been smiling back, but the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

  Juniper?

  As in Lennox’s daughter?

  They were still playing together?

  Maybe there was more than one girl with the name Juniper.

  “I’ll see you Wednesday in class, Ari, okay?” the teacher said, her hand on the door to shut it.

  Ari nodded with a toothy grin, waving her little hand. “See you, Miss Chism.”

  With that, the teacher shut the door, and I finally let out a breath as we pulled through the line and to the exit.

  “Everything go okay after we learned not to try and unclog toilets?” I asked, glancing at Ari in the rearview mirror.

  She nodded her blonde hair still a wild mess and possibly even crazier since this morning. “Mommy, when can I have a playdate with Juniper? She said she has a pool with a slide.”

  Keep your shit together, Rachel. She can smell weakness and won’t let you just ignore this.

  “Why don’t you have her mommy email or call me and we can see about that? It may be a while, since the little bathroom flooding thing,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

  “Her mommy doesn’t live with her, just her daddy. She told me she just has a daddy and I told her I just have a mommy, so we thought you and her daddy could be roommates. Then we can live in their house with their pool instead of at Grandma’s,” Ariana explained, like all of that made perfect sense.

  My stomach lurched.

  So, there wasn’t a mommy in the picture. Not that it made a difference.

  He still looked at me like I was the bad parent. After getting his daughter in trouble, there was no way he’d be up for our kids having a playdate. It didn’t matter that our daughters seemed to be best friends after day one. By the next day, Ariana could say she didn’t play with anyone but her shadow. That’s how she was, and I loved my crazy girl for that.

  She could stay little and not realize the harsh realities of the real world for as long as she wanted as far as I was concerned.

  “I think I’d have to actually talk to her daddy before we discussed any roommate situations.” I smiled at her reflection in the mirror.

  “Okay, maybe tomorrow then.” She nodded.

  As if life were that simple.

  I wished I could be like her and see everything like that, but unfortunately, I’d been knocked down too many times.

  But for her and her future, I’d always get back up again. Even if that meant having to run the bake sale with a guy who seemed to despise me. And somehow arrange playdates.

  Just not the roommate part of the playdate.

  ***

  Having to go back to the school that night for the PTA meeting was the last thing I wanted to do.

  But since the principal gave Ari a break, I figured I owed it to her.

  Now I just had to get out of the bake sale.

  Cue bringing my mother to help out with that one.

  While I’d always been an introvert, preferring to talk to people through the phone or computer, Mom was way better at peopling.

  In her early sixties, she still looked more like my older sister than my mom. Marrying a plastic surgeon and being a nutritionist helped that. Even when she was in her gym clothes or the tailored capris and blouse like she was now, she was always impeccably put together.

  Unlike her daughter.

  Sitting in the grand auditorium with cushioned seats, I glanced around at the other PTA goers.

  All put-together women in their heels and either dress pants or jeans and blouses that had a look screaming “high end.” I, on the other hand, was pretty sure I was wearing the only jeans that didn’t have paint splatter on them and still had my brown hair in a messy bun from this morning.

  Not like I was trying to impress anyone.

  I wasn’t going to troll the PTA meetings for a hot single dad since the one I had to talk to tonight hated me. At least I was pretty sure he did because I wasn’t too fond of the guy either.

  No matter how much the teen heartthrob had grown up to be a sexy-as-hell dad.

  As if the universe were entirely against me, not only did my mom come back to my seat with perky Amy at her side, but trailing behind them was Lennox in all his damn good-smelling, scowling glory.

  “Rach, I just met Amy, and she told me that you and Len were going to be working together on the school’s bake sale this year.” Mom beamed, giving a nod toward the guy next to her.

  “Yeah, I guess we are.” I tried to keep my voice even as I stood and smiled. “Nice to see you again, Amy. And Len, is it? Not Lennox? Or do I call you the man formerly known as Lennox?”

  That got a reaction out of his statuesque face. But not much. Just a slight curve of his lips. “Len is fine.”

  “Lennox? That’s a name you don’t hear every day,” Mom said, looking between the two of us as if her words could ease the tension.

  “Family name,” he said, not giving any hint of a smile.

  Jerk.

  If he was going to be standoffish to me that was one thing, but not to my mother. With her bright smile, not just from Botox or how her hair was pulled back, but because she was genuinely a smiling person. Not like this jerk.

  “Really? I always thought it was a stage name.”

  Mom raised her eyebrows.

  He shook his head. “No, it’s my real name.”

  Amy let out a tense laugh. “Lennox here used to be an actor, but that was years ago. Now he’s just our favorite financial advisor and PTA dad.”

  Mom tapped her nail on her lip, looking between the two of us. Then her eyes widened as recognition finally dawned on her. “Now I know why that name sounds familiar. Were you on that TV show? The one with the loud lawyer mom and coal miner dad who adopted a bunch of orphaned kids?”

  His gaze went to the ground, a flicker of a frown crossing his face before he went back to his stoic expression. “Yes, ma’am. That was a long time ago.”

  Mom’s smile broadened as she leaned in closer to me. “That explains why Rach was so nervous about coming here without me. She had the biggest crush on you growing up. Even had a poster of you on her wall with a milk mustache.”

  My heart sank deep into my stomach as every hair on the back of my neck stood on end. “Mom, seriously,” I hissed.

  Amy laughed, her shoulders finally relaxing. “I think every girl had that poster. Little did we know that teenybopper would grow up to be a dad at our school.”

  Yeah, no shit on that one.

  “You know, Amy, can you show me where those sign-ups are again for raffle donations?” Mom asked, her eyes darting between mine and Amy’s.

  “Yes, I’d be glad to,” Amy replied with a knowing smile before the two of them walked away, leaving just Lennox and me standing there awkwardly.

  “So, bake sale… I saw it on the agenda.” I held up the sheet of paper a lively young girl handed us as we walked in the door.

  “Look, Rachel, we can cut the small talk.”

  My head snapped up to see him stepping closer, the distance between us so small that the heat of his body wafted on to me. I had to suck in a deep breath, trying to keep control of my emotions.

  And not to smell the guy. Couldn’t keep up the tough girl act if I stuffed my nose in his neck and breathed him in.

  “Okay, Lennox, if we’re going to cut the small talk as you say, can you also cut the attitude? I have a few years before my daughter’s teen years and could do without it.”

  Nothing. Absolutely no expression on his face.

  This guy was one hell of an actor.

  Too bad I wasn’t, and I was pretty sure everything had to show as I stood there with my hands balled into fists at my side.

  “The past is the past. We both know—and probably everybody else in here—that I was a teen actor, but I’m not that guy anymore. I just want to do what needs to be done for the kids’ bake sale and make sure my daughter doesn’t get called to the principal’s office anymore.”

  “Are you ever going to let that go? Ariana said that the toilet was overflowing, so they tried to fix it. Obviously, their plumbing skills are lacking, but they both know they did something wrong and they’re going to move on. Like we both should.”

  He nodded. “You’re right. No more jabs at my sitcom past and I won’t bring up clogged toilets.”

  He held out his hand, and I glanced at, noticing that, like me, his was also missing a wedding ring.

  What the hell, Rach? Stop looking at him like that.

  I wanted to keep fighting. To stand my ground and not let this guy get his way. But with the heated stares of women around the auditorium falling on us as they took their seats, I knew I’d either have to cause a big scene or try to move forward.

  I slid my palm into his, an electric current seeming to flow straight through me. One that was hard to ignore since I was trying my hardest to keep my cool. “It’s a truce. For now, at least.”

  Chapter 3

  As soon as I tucked Ariana into bed, I snuck downstairs with my laptop.

  I was behind on work since I spent most of the day dealing with stupid—yet gorgeous—dads and PTA moms.

  I might not have had many clients, but if I didn’t keep the ones I had, my office would forever be my mom’s dining room table. The one I currently sat at while she and Dad loudly watched reality TV in the next room.

  But this was the hand I was dealt, so figured I had to get to work. Opening my emails, I looked to see if I had anything new from contacts on my website.

  Nothing, as usual.

  But there was a new email on top of all of the spam messages that did have me catching my breath, staring at the screen as my fingers hovered over the buttons.

  From AmyDannyWhite to LenReign and RiseGraphics.

  I let out my breath slowly as I clicked open the email, bracing myself for her typing to be just as chipper as her words.

  Hey y’all,

  Amy here! Don’t be fooled by the email, Danny and I have shared this one for years! (Just don’t type anything you don’t want him to see, LOL)

  I wanted to get this out to the two of y’all so you could get started on the bake sale.

  This year we are hoping to do our sale at the end of September, so one month away!

  Lots to get started, and I know y’all will work great together, but just a couple of things I need to make sure are presented, since this is a big deal.

  1.)All treats have to be gluten, nut, and dairy free.

  2.)Volunteers need to wear plastic gloves and aprons, provided by the school with a logo embroidered on the front.

  3.)Bakers need to be secured and send their items they’re providing no later than eight hours before the event.

  4.)All advertising must be approved by the PTA board, including any graphics campaigns.

  If you have any additional questions, let me know! I know this is your third year on fundraising, Len, but just want you to know that I’m still here for anything you need. And, Rachel, we’re happy to have you aboard.

  Take care!

  Amy White

  PTA President Texas Junior Prep Academy

  Cheer Mom Texas Junior Preppettes

  Certified SoulCycle Instructor

  I shook my head, even though no one on the email could see me.

  Were these rules put in place because of me? Did Lennox—or Len as I guess he was being called now—specifically request everything have to be approved so I wouldn’t embarrass him and suggest a milk mustache ad?

  Not that the guy would have looked bad in an updated ad, with those tattooed forearms and what he was hiding under that button-down…

  I closed my eyes, letting out a small sigh. I couldn’t keep thinking about the hot dad from class, especially if we had to work together on this.

  As I racked my brain thinking of how to respond to the email, my inbox pinged, notifying me someone else had already sent something.

  My breath caught in my throat as I saw a reply from Lennox.

  Just to me.

  Not Amy.

  My heart sped up, trying not to think the worst.

  Or possibly the best.

  That was the little notion that had other parts of me beating as well.

  Dammit, cool down the libido, Rach.

  Rachel,

  I guess we’ll be working together.

  Hopefully, we can both keep this as professional as possible without any mishaps.

  Let me know if you have any questions or if you want the graphics from last year to look at.

  Len Reign

  Financial Consultant

  Reign Industries

  Instead of that warming feeling in my stomach, a simmering grudge curdled.

  Really? I thought we were over this. We even shook on it.

  Sure, he may have been a former teen star, and yeah, maybe it was embarrassing as hell that my mom blurted out that I used to have a poster of him. Not to mention what happened this morning with the girls in class. But enough was enough. Now he was just being a pain in the ass about it.

  I’d been pushed around enough and didn’t stand up for myself often, but I wasn’t going to do that anymore.

  I hit reply quickly.

  Hey Len,

  First, if there’s going to be hostility, we need to clear the air.

  I’m sorry about what happened with my daughter, I really am. But can we just move past this and get on with the bake sale stuff? I can quickly whip up some graphics for flyers if I have the dates and a direction or theme.

  Rachel Rise

  Designer/Photographer

  Rise Up Lights Productions

  I sent the email with a little extra oomph in my clicking finger.

  Show him who he can send his super serious emails to. Not me.

  I thought I was fully prepared for what his response would be. And that I’d have a little time to go to the bathroom, maybe pour a glass of wine, or at least get the ice cream I was pretty sure Mom hid in the back of the freezer.

  But when the ping went off on my inbox, I gasped, staring wide-eyed at the screen.

  Rachel,

  I assure you that there’s no hostility, and frankly, I’m offended you took my comments that way.

  But I would like to see the graphics or at least your idea of a design.

  I did check out your portfolio on your website, and while there is an impressive array of advertising for vape shops, some dog rescues, and a lot of half-naked men on book covers, I would like to see something a little less…well, I guess more aimed for kids and their parents. They’ll be the ones we’re targeting when we send out our flyers.

  Let me know your ideas.

  Len Reign

  Financial Consultant

  Reign Industries

  I huffed, rolling my eyes as if he could see them.

  Well, if he was going to look at my website and judge my work, then I was going to go to his, whatever Reign Industries was.

  I opened up a new tab on my browser, typing “Reign Industries” into the search bar. The first site that came up was for a financial consultant. That didn’t seem to fit the personality of this tattooed former television star. Though that was what Amy introduced him as, so it must be the right one.

  I clicked on the site and a stock photo of an office space with large floor-to-ceiling windows and men in business suits popped up. One I knew was paid for on a stock site for around five dollars because I’d used the same one in many book covers.

  “Well, he could use a photographer and maybe a better website designer than whoever did this thing,” I muttered, scrolling down to see the photo of him in a stiff button-down and tie and even more rigid smile.

  He was still attractive—bad school photography-esque pictures couldn’t hide that—but the whole site looked like it was made off a free template. Even his mission statement and focus areas were stale.

  “Sound strategy and personalized attention from an advisor who has been there,” I read off the screen. “Well if that isn’t vague as hell.”