there,” he said, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table at the far end—where there was no way she’d get the wrong impression. He had no intention of bothering her. Plus, he didn’t think he could stand to hear her inform him yet again how little she needed his help.
In his career, he had seen many parents who wrestled with the idea of alternative therapy like the kind in which he specialized. Generally, he dealt with them at the stage in which they were open to such an idea. Paige wasn’t there yet, but against his better judgment, he was finding it awfully hard to resist the urge to persist and recommend that she bring Owen to his hospital sessions. He knew it was selfish, but helping Owen would inevitably equal more time with Paige, a thought that became more appealing each time he caught sight of her. He hadn’t wanted it, but he couldn’t ignore his growing attraction to the woman.
She greeted him with a tense smile, her eyes working to focus on him as though she’d been distracted.
“Hi, Mr. Campbell,” Paige said, moving quickly to pick up her pen. She busied herself flipping through the packet of papers in front of her.
Liam didn’t correct her this time. He’d figured out that she preferred the distance of last names when it came to addressing faculty. If he had to guess, it probably made her feel like less of the teacher she’d likely been before she moved to her current position and more like a boss. He’d had plenty of administrators like her in his time, but, for some reason, this one didn’t make him want to run in the other direction. In fact, she had the opposite effect, which he wasn’t keen to admit. He had no business circling the assistant principal like a bee to honey.
Yet, there he was, at her table in a cafeteria filled with empty ones.
“I don’t really know anyone yet, so I guess you’re the unlucky tablemate of the new kid,” he said as he slid down the table toward her.
Liam was surprised when Paige laughed, the melodic sound tickling his ears and spine. She looked up from her notes and the violet-blue of her eyes glittered at him. It was the first time he’d seen this softer side of her, and he wanted more. What would it take to get her to smile at him like that again and again? Whatever it was, he would do it in a heartbeat.
“I don’t mind much. No matter how long I’ve been here, I always still feel a little like a newbie,” she said.
Liam returned her smile. “I would think that in your job, you’d know everyone.”
Paige looked down at her papers again and Liam instantly wanted her eyes back on him.
“I suppose in a way I do, but it’s difficult being in my position. It puts certain...expectations...on my interactions with other teachers.”
Immediately after speaking, Paige bit her full bottom lip, as though she’d said too much. She shook her head a little and put on what looked like an attempt at a confident grin.
“But I love my job. I really do. It’s just that...well...” She shook her head and looked up at him again. “I guess every position has its rough spots, doesn’t it?”
Liam nodded, hoping he could reassure her. He realized once again that he’d go pretty far to get her to smile at him again, to see those berry lips part one more time and her eyes crinkle around the corners.
With force, he pulled his gaze away from her mouth and met her eyes.
“That it does,” he said. “But I love my job, too. It’s one of the hardest jobs in the world but also...”
“The best,” Paige filled in.
Liam laughed. “Yes, it is pretty great. I’ve wanted to work with kids in some capacity since I was one myself, and I’ve always loved art.”
Paige grinned and Liam noticed a hint of mischief this time.
“So were you like me, then, with dolls circled around your bedroom waiting with eagerness to hear every word you had to say?”
She was teasing him, he realized, though it felt strange coming from the person who’d been so tense just the previous afternoon. But she was also irresistible.
“Not dolls. Army men,” he said.
Paige laughed again. This time, her mouth opened fully and, before he could stop himself, his mind wandered into the dangerous territory of what it would feel like to have his lips against hers.
He really needed to make some friends—male ones. He was way out of line thinking this way about anyone right now, especially about his boss.
“Ah, I see. Army men, then. Same thing.”
“Not the same,” Liam retorted, frowning in mock seriousness.
Maybe there was more to the dragon lady than met the eye. Maybe she did have a soft underbelly.
Maybe he could get her to show him more of it.
“Did you always want to be a teacher, then?” she asked.
Liam nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Although grad school’s opened up some new doors, and now I’m working toward a doctorate in art therapy while I teach.”
Though his father had laid it on thick from the beginning that he disapproved of Liam’s career choice. It had interfered with the man’s plans for his only son—plans that existed prior to Liam’s birth and about which Liam had never had a say. His dad had always wanted Liam to go into the family oil business, and Liam’s open disinterest in the company had done nothing to dissuade the man. He’d pushed and pushed until Liam hadn’t had any option but to push back even harder by flat-out refusing to take over when the time came for his father to retire.
“I’m impressed,” Paige said, raising her eyebrows.
“I don’t think there’s anything out there like working with kids. You get access to these great little brains that are just starting to form ideas and perspectives about the world. And you get to watch them process it every single day and see the way their eyes light up when they’ve worked really hard and they finally understand. It’s really something, if you ask me.”
Liam looked up to find Paige watching him intently, and he felt silly. He always got a little mushy when he talked to people about his job.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I just really have a passion for it.” Almost unlike anything else. But since starting grad school and spending time with the kids in his art-therapy classes, he’d decided that, ultimately, becoming a full-time therapist was the best path for him. Both teaching and art therapy offered so many promising avenues for children to heal and process grief, but as soon as he completed his doctoral studies and the internship, he would set up a full-time practice of his own.
“I think that’s great, actually,” Paige said, interrupting his thoughts. “I wish we could find more like you. The kids need people with that kind of passion and interest in them.”
“And I think my favorite medium is a great way to get to know them on a deeper level. Kids will do a lot of things with art that they can’t do anywhere else.”
“What do you mean?” asked Paige. She’d leaned closer to him across the table and she was staring at him, her blue eyes intense under furrowed brows.
“I
