Secrets Unveiled (3 page)

“My mom's not working today.” Angie eased into the room, pulling the glasses from her face and swinging them by one wire arm as she often did when troubled or worried. Now, her green eyes were shadowed with concern. Fresh out of junior college, she'd snagged the secretarial position at the school when it came open just a few months ago, and fretted when things didn't run smoothly. “You know she likes to volunteer here whenever she can. Maybe she'd be willing to stop by and help out. I can call her and—”

“Miss Andrews, Miss Andrews, look!”

Maggie turned toward the doorway as Gemma skipped through in a flurry of unbridled energy. A piece of paper fluttered in her hand, the signature orange color indicating it was one of the permission slips for the zoo that Maggie had run through the photocopier. Maggie knew it was the second copy issued since the first had, according to a wild tale related by Gemma, been reduced to a sloppy mess of drool-splattered fibers by a mischievous mutt named Oscar.

“Well, hi there, Gemma.” Maggie forgot about the most recent dilemma concerning the field trip long enough to plaster on a welcoming smile. Worry was not an option with Gemma's larger-than-life personality in the room. “What's going on, sweetheart?”

“I remembered.” Gemma rushed over, her curls bouncing as she placed the signed form in Maggie's upturned palm. “Just like you said I should. It's not too late to give you the paper, is it? Can I still go?”

“May I still go,” Maggie corrected. “And yes, you may still go with the class to the zoo today.”

If the trip remains viable…if some miracle occurs.

“I'm sorry…” Grant Anderson rushed through the doorway on Gemma's heels. His navy suit jacket was impeccably buttoned, his power-red tie a perfect complement to the crisp, white cotton shirt beneath. “Please forgive the intrusion. I told Gemma not to interrupt your conversation, but she's so excited about going to the zoo today…the elephants, tigers, and giraffes you know. She was afraid she'd miss out because Oscar made an afternoon snack out of the permission slip.”

Maggie laughed. “No. It's fine.” She found it suddenly difficult to speak while Grant's commanding gaze linked with hers. He filled the doorway, so much taller than she remembered from their days together at Valley High School. Back then he'd been lanky and dark…almost brooding. They'd barely shared two words though they sat through many classes together. His family came from the proverbial right side of the tracks with their sprawling three-story brick house and polished BMW's; her family, residing in a house wrapped in faded clapboard siding and cracked concrete stairs…not so much.

“Oscar has been punished, by the way.” Grant's chocolate hair fell across his forehead, framing eyes that held no sign of the brooding angst Maggie recalled from days gone by. He propped one hip against the corner of the wall that flanked a neat row of cubed student storage cubbies. “No bones for a week is the rendered sentence. He's heartbroken, but I have to stand firm, nonetheless. He shouldn't have used Gemma's permission slip as a chew toy. It was simply bad manners.”

“Oh, that's…sad. I'm sure he meant no harm.”

“Well, I'm just here to make sure the slip gets into your hands this time, and now that I see it has I'll just—”

“Wait.” Maggie held up one palm as she rounded the desk to face him. In another ten minutes or so the wooden cubbies would fill with lunchboxes and jackets that belonged to eager students. A short sunflower-yellow bus would pull up to the curb outside the classroom windows, ready to drive thirteen—well, now twelve since Kevin sat at the emergency room—eager and starry-eyed students to the Knoxville Zoo. If something didn't happen here—and quick—it seemed as if Maggie would have to shoo the driver and answer to a pack of disappointed children.

Unless…

“What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

Grant's gaze slipped over her, causing Maggie to shiver slightly despite the cozy warmth of the room. His attire stood as a sharp contrast to the faded jeans and black—always black—T-shirts emblazoned with skulls and crossbones that Maggie remembered from high school. She wondered what had elicited the change in him over the years, but she was certainly glad for it. Perhaps his responsibilities with Gemma…? Maggie cupped a hand to her mouth and cleared her throat.

“Perhaps I have.” She lowered her gaze and noted that Grant's dress shoes were polished to a spit-shine and most likely hot off the store shelf. The fact caused a slight prickle of guilt, though not strong enough to keep her from asking, “Do you still like the thrill of an unexpected adventure?”

“A…what kind of thrill?” Grant's eyes widened as he pushed away from the wall, clasping his hands together. He took a few steps toward her, his gaze questioning. “I'm sorry, but I don't understand your meaning.”

“It's simple. I need—”

“Give me a minute, here.” Angie stepped in between them, startling Maggie. She'd forgotten all about the younger assistant standing there. Angie reached for Gemma's hand. She flashed a warm smile at the child. “Honey, I brought biscuits and gravy from the drive-thru down the street this morning. There's enough for two. Would you like to come with me to the office, and we'll share breakfast before the others arrive?”

“Oh, I love biscuits and gravy. Yes.” Gemma circled a palm over her belly before she shrugged from her backpack and sidestepped Grant to hang it on the hook beneath her cubby. She paused and turned back to glance up at him with the innocence of an angel. “Is that OK, Uncle Grant?”

“Sure, princess.” He tapped her nose, drawing his gaze from Maggie long enough to flash the cherub a mega-watt smile. “You go on while Miss Andrews and I talk. I'll see you when you're done with your biscuits.”

“Soon?”

“Yes…soon.”

When they'd gone, Maggie turned her attention fully to Grant. “I need you.”

“That's…flattering.” He chuckled softly. “How badly?”

Maggie's pulse skittered as his gaze skimmed over her. His eyes had always enthralled her with their flash of blue, clear as a summer sky. “Please, Grant…won't you help me out here…help the kids?”

“I suppose I might be persuaded.” His grin spoke volumes, and the low murmur of his voice set Maggie's universe slightly off-kilter. “Give me the run-down on what you need. Don't leave out any details.”

“I need a chaperone for the zoo--now--today.”

“I can manage that. Count me in.”

“So, you'll do it? You'll go with us?”

“I suppose the office can survive a few hours without me today.”

“Oh, Grant…” Maggie stepped forward to place a hand on his. The warmth of his skin calmed the thrum of her heart. “You'll never know how much this means to me…to the kids.”

“I think I already do. It's evident in your eyes…and that sweet voice of yours.” He nodded and flashed her a playful smile. “Just give me a minute to make a call and I'm all yours.”

3

“I have to say, I haven't ridden on a school bus in…” Grant shook his head as he gazed through finger-smudged glass to the landscape rushing by in a blur of autumn hues. “Well, since I got my first car at sixteen.”

“Yeah, I remember that sporty red thing.” Maggie rested her chin in her upturned palm as the bus scuttled over a pothole. “It was so flashy, it nearly blinded me. You came within feet of running me over in the school parking lot one afternoon.”

“I remember.” She'd had him mesmerized with her waterfall of glossy black hair and faded jeans that hugged her curves in all the right places. “And I'm sorry about that near-death experience, truly.”

“Apology accepted. You're fortunate to have had a car as a teenager. I didn't get my first set of wheels until I graduated college, and even then it was a second-hand beater with no radio and what barely passed for air conditioning that ran iffy at best. I've just recently upgraded to something a bit more dependable. Teaching isn't the most…” Maggie shrugged, her reflection muted in the window glass. “…lucrative occupation, but it suits me. It's always been my dream to work with kids.”

“It shows. The kids love you.” Grant turned to face her, nestled in the seat across the aisle. “That much, at least, is more than obvious.”

“Yes, I am blessed beyond measure.” She glanced down at the rambunctious kid named Ty that was currently sprawled beside her in the seat. In an unexpected departure from his usual hi-octane energy level, his head lolled along Maggie's forearm, his damp hair draped in a matted crown of curls as he slept. Grant wasn't sure if Ty's apparent exhaustion was a side effect of all the walking they'd done or the afterglow of the full-blown lay-on-the-ground-kicking-and-screaming tantrum he'd thrown when it was time for the class to leave the snake exhibit. The kid had a set of lungs; that was for sure. Grant had to hand it to Maggie, though; she'd quickly talked down the unruly kindergartner from his fit of temper, and they'd somehow all managed to finish the guided tour with no further incidents.

Well…no further incidents if he didn't count little Joanie's stumble and subsequent scraped knees coupled with her crying jag as they were leaving the Red Panda Village—or Logan's belly ache that Grant had a hunch resulted from cramming his face with way too much soda and chips. Or—

Grant sighed as he raked a hand through his hair and offered Maggie a weary grin. “How do you manage this pace—the plethora of kids' personalities and quirks, the demands and incessant questions they seem to have a never-ending supply of—day in and day out without losing your mind?”

“Hmm…” Maggie's lips curved into a wisp of a smile that might have rivaled Mona Lisa's. “It's a secret.”

“Is that so?” Grant tapped his temple with an index finger. He'd take the solitude of his sprawling downtown office over this chaos any day of the week. At least the land contracts he wrestled with didn't have legs to run away, and they certainly didn't attempt to scale the barrier outside the tigers' den, like Tommy Clevenger had done. They didn't throw up in the dusty dirt, either. “Well, inquiring minds want to know.”

“Those inquiring minds will just have to wait.” Maggie winked as she mimed locking her glossed lips and tossing the key over one shapely shoulder. If she felt as exhausted as he did, she hid it well beneath a touch of humor and a wisp of a smile. “Information concerning secrets such as that will cost you.”

“Dinner?”

Maggie paused, her gaze locking with his. Her hazel eyes shone more blue than gray this afternoon, and now they registered a hint of surprise at his suggestion. Had he stepped out of bounds by throwing the thought out there? He certainly didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable but the idea of dinner, well…now that it was out there on the proverbial table it sounded awfully nice.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a story at the circle-rug when we all get back to school.” The words came slowly, and she formed each syllable carefully. Her fingers played with the strap of the purse nestled over one shoulder. “Gemma says you're quite the entertaining reader, and I have a few books waiting—all animal-related and tied into today's activities. I pulled them off the shelf and set them there for this afternoon.”

“Of course.” Grant was hardly surprised. Maggie was a planner. She'd organized community service projects during high school and spearheaded the student council activities, among other things. She always seemed to know where she was going…what lay ahead. They were so unlike each other back then, but even at sixteen and seventeen Grant sensed the power of opposite attraction.

His cellphone vibrated in his shirt pocket, and he ignored the sensation. Today was the longest stretch he'd gone without dealing with voicemail or texts in…well, since he'd taken the helm of the investment corporation. “Reading a story to this group of mop-heads…what could be more adventurous? I'll certainly give it my best shot. Maybe I'll get called up to do audio books and the rest will be history.”

“Do you need to answer that?” Maggie motioned toward the phone that peeked through the fabric of his shirt as the impatient caller made a second attempt.

“No.” He pulled the phone from his pocket and without so much as glancing at the caller ID, powered it down. “It can wait.”

“But I've kept you from work all day.”

“As far as I can see, the world is still spinning.”

“Even so…it's a bit selfish of me to monopolize your time.” Maggie's gaze skimmed his suit. “I'm sorry about your pants…and that dress shirt. Is it silk?”

“Egyptian cotton. At least it was Egyptian cotton.” He slipped a hand into his slacks pocket and felt the tie he'd shoved inside while tromping with the group somewhere between Chimp Ridge and Meerkat Lookout. If he remembered correctly, the boy nicknamed JJ had to be peeled from the exhibit's rail by Grant while Maggie stepped away to the bathroom with a group of female munchkins who needed to use the facilities without delay. “But now I'd file it under…soiled shreds.”

“Oh my…and those beautiful shoes…” She grimaced as she lowered her gaze to his dirt-caked feet. “Leather?”

“Yes.” Grant studied laces discolored by mud puddles and leather scuffed by shards of gravel. He was sure, judging by the soreness in his feet, that the soles now sported holes clear through to his socks. “They've seen better days.”

“I suppose, considering the sacrifice you've endured, that I owe you big-time for saving the trip…and the day.”

Grant laughed softly as he suddenly longed to run a hand through her silky waves of dark hair. She was still so put together, not at all flustered by the events of the day, while he felt as if he'd been dragged by a freight train. “We couldn't let the kids down. Gemma would have never allowed me to forget that. Besides, it was kind of fun—in an odd and twisted sort of way—spending the day with you and a dozen wild cherubs. I suppose I should thank you.”