Peter Walsh raised dark, bedroom eyesokay, not bedroom eyes. He was a students parent, so maybe that descriptor was inappropriatebut, gosh, his rich brown eyes made her belly quiver. Confusion filled his expression, then morphed to frustration or anger. Now her gut swirled for a new reason. She hated dealing with angry parents.
Fine. Mr. Walsh gave one last glance to his son before stalking out to the hallway.
Keep working, kids. Ill be right back. Lisa swept her practiced be-on-your-best-behavior look around the room, meeting the eyes of several of her moreer, loquacious students before she joined Mr. Walsh in the corridor.
He launched into her before she could open her mouth. Whats going on? You called me here because thered been
Mr. Walsh. Lisa held up a hand to cut him off, then caught the attention of the school librarian who was walking past them. Ms. Fillmore, would you mind sitting with my class for a few minutes while I talk with Mr. Walsh in the office?
Certainly, the older woman said with a smile.
Theyre taking a geography quiz. Youll need to pick up the papers at exactly two-thirty if Im not back.
Got it. Two-thirty. Ms. Fillmore gave a little wave as she disappeared into the classroom.
When Lisa turned back to Patricks father, she met a glare that would freeze a volcano. You lied to me. You said Patrick had been in an accident. Do you have any idea how worried I was on the way over here?
Patience. Keep your cool. Let him vent if he needs to.
Drawing a deep breath to collect herself, she flashed him a warm smile. Lets go to the office where we can speak privately. She motioned down the hall and started toward the front of the school. When Mr. Walsh only stared at her stubbornly for a moment, she paused to wait for him to follow. Handsome or not, the man clearly had a temper when it came to his son.
Lisa could understand that. Most parents had an emotional hot button when it came to their children. Sweet, soft-spoken members of the quilting club became growling mama bears when they thought their cubs needed protecting or defending.
Finally, Peter Walsh fell in step behind her, his long-legged strides quickly catching up with hers. Why did you tell me thered been an accident?
I didnt, she returned calmly.
You di
I said incident. With an i. You hung up before I could explain the nature of the problem.
Mr. Walsh drew a breath as if to mount an argument, then snapped his mouth closed. His brow creased, and his jaw tightened as if replaying their brief phone conversation and realizing his mistake.
Im sorry if I alarmed you. Patrick is fine, physically. They reached the front office, and Lisa escorted him into a vacant conference room. Please, have a seat.
Patricks father crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed a suspicious gaze on her. Thanks, Ill stand.
Okay. She faced him, squaring her shoulders and staring at his foreheadbecause looking into those dark eyes was just too distracting. Too unnerving.
Darn it all, she was a professional. She couldnt let this man rattle her.
Mr. Walsh, I called you because Patrick was disrupting class today and
Disrupting how? he interrupted, his back stiffening.
He burped.
Mr. Walshs eyebrows snapped together in confusion. Excuse me? He burped?
Yes.
He shifted his weight and angled an irritated look toward her. You called me down here to tell me he burped? His angry tone and volume rose. Kids will burp sometimes, lady. Its a fact of life. Maybe you should be talking to the lunch ladies about the food theyre serving instead of calling parents away from important business to report their kids bodily functions, for crying out loud!
Patience. Lisa balled then flexed her fingers, struggling to keep her cool. She made the mistake of meeting his eyes then, and her stomach flip-flopped. Good grief, the man had sexy eyes!
It wasnt just a small, my-lunch-didnt-sit-right burp, Mr. Walsh. It was loud. Forced. Designed to get a rise out of his classmates.
Peter Walsh rocked back on his boot heels, listening. At least, she hoped he was listening. Some parents wore blinders when it came to their kids behavior. Their little darling couldnt possibly have done the things she said.
Lisa took a slow calming breath, working
to keep her voice even and non-confrontational.
Hed been disruptive all morningtalking, getting out of his seat without permission, making rude noises, even poking the girl in front of him for no apparent reason. The loud belching was just the final straw.
Peter Walsh had the nerve to roll his eyes and shake his head. Lisa gritted her teeth.
With all due respect, Ms. Navaro he started in a tone that was far from respectful.
Its Navarre, Mr. Walsh.
Navarre, he repeated, lifting his hand in concession, but his disposition remained hard and challenging. It seems to me keeping order in your classroom is your job. Send him to the principals office if you need to, but dont drag me down here every time my son acts up in classor burps. You shouldnt have to call a kids parent away from their job to handle a minor behavior problem. If you cant keep a ten-year-old boy in line for a few hours a day, perhaps youre in the wrong profession.