The Fake Fiancée. Megan Kelly

Meyer. One of the problems with Bobby is that he’s brighter than his classmates. We can’t advance him into first grade this late in the school year.”

      Lisa pushed down a surge of maternal pride. Of course, she considered Bobby brighter than average but felt gratified to hear it from educators. Why hadn’t they noticed how intelligent Bobby was before this? Shaking her head, she knew the answer. In their overgrown school district, only the special needs children got particular attention. The ordinary kids who didn’t struggle academically or misbehave were overlooked.

      Before, Bobby had been evaluated as troubled. Now with the fighting, her son would be labeled a problem child. Smart, they could ignore and plan extra work for the next year maybe. Disobedience and fighting, however, had to be addressed immediately.

      “With only weeks left in the school year,” she said, “I wouldn’t want you to move him. How will before-and after-school ‘challenges’ help him behave during class?”

      Bushfield opened his mouth but offered no answer before closing it again.

      “And,” Lisa continued, “his temper problems aside, today’s ‘incident’ sounds like a personality conflict between Bobby and this Arnold kid.”

      “If my son were fighting,” Bushfield said, “I’d be concerned.”

      Pompous ass. Lisa reached deep inside herself for patience. “I am concerned, Mr. Bushfield. I just don’t agree that this is the answer for Bobby.”

      Bushfield leaned back in his black leather swivel chair and linked his fingers over his paunch. “We considered this program for Bobby in the fall because of his abilities, not because of his misbehavior.”

      Her teeth clenched so tight her jaw ached. His misbehavior? What about that other kid, calling Bobby names and smashing his head on the floor?

      “However,” the principal continued, “this opportunity cannot be offered to every child due to its cost.”

      The blood drained from Lisa’s face. Because she’d had to sign up for reduced lunch prices and book-fee assistance for both children, all her financial information lurked in the kids’ files. No doubt Bushfield and every other administrator had access. It was degrading.

      Now it came down to money again. Bobby hadn’t been considered last fall because she was broke? She swallowed her rage. Damn Brad.

      “Unfortunately,” the principal continued, “it isn’t funded through tax revenue, and we must rely upon the parents—or parent in your case—to provide the majority of the tuition. Bringing highly talented professionals together to educate our children with the best cultural activities is expensive.” He cleared his throat. “Given that Bobby’s special needs have intensified this week, we might be able to provide a grant through the school district for the remainder of the year. Some monies have become available.”

      Lisa tried to remain expressionless. Humiliated beyond measure because she couldn’t afford to give her child this special opportunity, she fought her anger—against Bushfield, against Brad, against anyone she could think of, especially herself. No way would she allow her children to suffer because she had been left with an overwhelming debt. If only that investigator could track down Brad, perhaps she could squeeze some child support from him. Unfortunately, rumor had it Brad had left the country.

      She stiffened her spine and eyed Bushfield steadily. “If you have a brochure, I’ll look it over.”

      She marched out with her head held high, determined to get the money somehow, even if she had to sell her soul to the devil.

      Fortunately, she’d just met the devil. He was handsome and devious, and he needed a favor from her.