Spying Under the Mistletoe (Love Undercover #2) - Stina Lindenblatt Page 0,14
respect for kindergarten teachers. I probably owe mine a huge apology—if she’s still alive.
What I hadn’t been expecting was how easy it was to get Chloe to agree to go out on a date with me, especially after she made it clear she wants to stay single.
“Oh boy, what happened in here?” Chloe asks after the last of the kids are skipping down the hallway to the front entrance.
She surveys the damage, then picks up a picture book from the floor and heads to the bookshelves in the corner. “A hint for tomorrow…get them to start tidying up about thirty minutes before the end of class. And if they’re finished in time, they get to listen to a story. The longer they take to clean up, the less time there is for the story.”
“Great advice. Thanks.”
“How about I put away the books, and you can clean up the art supplies?”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
I gather the plastic plates from the tables and carry them to the sink. Fifteen minutes later, everything is back where it belongs.
“How long have you been teaching?” I ask Chloe as we walk to the staff parking lot. The cool wind tumbles dried leaves across the ground.
“About five years. I got my art degree, but then I realized I didn’t want to be a starving artist. So I returned to school for my teaching certificate, and the rest is history.”
“But why kindergarten? Why not be a high school art teacher?”
“I thought about doing that. I taught teens as part of an extracurricular program at the art center near where I lived. But as much as I loved doing it, I wanted to work with little kids more.
“I still teach art classes for teens, but I save that for the summer when I have more time.”
“Teaching during the school year and volunteering at the seniors’ residence must keep you busy.”
“It does—especially since I volunteer with the seniors several times a week.”
“Wow, you must really enjoy it.”
She points to what looks like a 2016 red Honda Civic. “That’s my car. And yes, I do really enjoy it. I don’t have any grandparents, or at least none who are still part of my life. The residents at the seniors’ home are like surrogate grandparents to me. I love them as if they are my grandparents. And they treat me like I’m their granddaughter.”
She smiles at me. It’s a gorgeous smile—one that causes a spark deep in my gut, two live wires briefly touching.
“What about you?” she asks. “Are your grandparents still part of your life?”
“They are. My granny lives with my parents. And is always keeping them on their toes.” I mentally laugh at how much she does that. “She told me once that it’s how she keeps herself young. My grandfather, her husband, passed away a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Me too. He was a great guy. I’m positive you would’ve liked him. My other grandparents live in Texas, near one of my sisters and her family.…Did you want to come with me in my vehicle or follow me?”
“I’ll follow you. But in case I lose you, what vet clinic are you going to?”
I tell her the name. It’s not exactly close to here. My home is on the other side of the city from the school.
For a second, I think she’s going to change her mind, and maybe she would have if we weren’t both friends with Ava. Ava has already vouched for me, which makes my life a helluva lot easier when it comes to the mission.
We eventually arrive at the clinic where Whiskey has spent the past thirty-two hours.
“Do you have any supplies for him?” Chloe asks as we enter the building.
“I picked up some stuff for him this morning.” The convenient thing about having a colleague who’s a dog lover is that Jayden could tell me what to get. He also gave me pointers when it comes to taking care of a puppy.
Rule #1 when it comes puppy obedience: Show him who’s boss—which works for me.
I approach the front desk. “Hi, I’ve come to collect the injured puppy I dropped off yesterday morning. The cockapoo.”
The receptionist’s mouth breaks into a soft smile. “Ah yes, the sweet puppy who has stolen everyone’s heart here. Have you come up with a name for him yet?”
“Whiskey. And if he’s stolen everyone’s heart, does that mean someone wants to adopt him?” I smile hopefully at her, pouring on the charm like hot fudge over a sundae.