Holly Banks Full of Angst (Village of Primm, #1)(45)
So Holly borrowed a play out of her mother’s handbook and stabbed her index finger on the counter. “I demand service!” She was about to stomp her foot when she noticed closed-circuit security monitors behind the woman’s desk. Six of them. One tuned to record events happening in the hallways, another tuned to record exterior doorways, the rest tuned to the classrooms. Ella. Maybe Holly could catch a glimpse of Ella. “Can I check on my daughter? Maybe see her on one of those screens?” Holly pointed. “Her name is Ella Banks.”
“What seems to be the problem?”
“No problem,” she lied. “She got on the bus this morning—so excited to start kindergarten! I just want to make sure she’s okay. Do those dial up to different classrooms?”
“Maybe.” The woman folded her arms. “But for now, why don’t you have a seat on the wooden bench outside.” She began primping again, unbuttoning the top button of her silk blouse to reveal a string of pink freshwater pearls and a lot of, um, flesh. The pearls, they were so pretty—organic, irregular shapes, colors that glistened from pink to peach. Holly didn’t own anything like that. She had a few silver necklaces and a bracelet or two worth about fifty bucks, but most of Holly’s stuff was, well, as Ella would describe it: yuckity.
Even the school office was beautiful. Like something out of a magazine, it was so polished and welcoming. Bright windows with deep windowsills, beautiful blue tone-on-tone wallpaper, plenty of fresh white flowers in vintage silver trophy cups. Artwork made by children. Classical music played. It was more beautiful than any room in Holly’s entire house. Freaking school office—probably had its own board on Pinterest.
Holly returned to the bench she’d sat on earlier in the morning, plopping down beneath the American flag and the volunteer bulletin board that basked beneath the glow of Mary-Margaret’s sun. Holly vowed to wait no more than five minutes. No more!
She waited, worrying about the cost of repairs, worrying about car insurance premiums, worrying her reputation with the other mothers would be shot before she even got the chance to say hello. She worried about PTA cupcakes and cookie spitting caught on film. She worried about cherries, and pies, and wondered how cherries got inside pies, and how pies sold at festivals, and what if her pies sucked so bad they didn’t sell at auction? Then what? She’d disappoint Emily the Pie Mom. And Suong-Lu the Pie Mom. And Peyton. And Jhone. And all the Pie Moms that came before them, like Betty Crocker and that freaking Martha Stewart with all the pie baking she’d done over the years. Holly worried about Ella, alone on her first day of kindergarten, alone in the Land of Oz. Ella could be in art right now, or music, or the cafeteria, who the heck knew. It’s fourth period. Where’s my daughter? I don’t know!
Holly needed a happy place. Which she got at that very moment, because in through the front doors of Primm Academy walked the most beautiful creature Holly had ever seen. Tall, dark, and handsome—and carrying a large brown package and a handheld device for collecting signatures—in came . . . the UPS man.
Oh my. Oh my indeed.
Because, good gravy, was he hot! Thank you, Village of Primm!
Penelope had never mentioned him. If Holly were Penelope, she’d hire this guy to deliver real estate flyers all over Southern Lakes. FOR SALE signs would spring up overnight, and a mass exodus out of Southern Lakes and into the Village of Primm would ensue, Holly was sure of it. Oh, but maybe the uptight Village of Primm didn’t want the laid-back families of Southern Lakes moving into their gilded school district.
Know what? Who cares! Because he was delicious: everything the bodice-ripping covers of racy novels delivered. Only he was real and in the flesh. Longish dark hair; dark, smoky eyes the shape of almonds (a werewolf maybe?); olive skin (was he Greek? Italian? from some island in the Mediterranean?); and a jawline as rugged as the Alaskan coastline (cliché, yes, but true). And he clearly didn’t know his own strength because he swung open the heavy wooden doors of the school with such force the bulletin board flyers behind Holly ruffled beneath their thumbtacks.
Holly grabbed the large phallic box he was holding, grabbed his handheld device, and signed her name with gusto. Look at me! Just a-signing away!
He thanked her. And she thanked him. Watching him leave, Holly tipped her head ever so slightly to the side until every last gorgeous morsel of that man left the building.
Freshwater Pearls rushed into the front foyer. “Where is he? Is he here?” Pearls spotted the package in Holly’s hands. “Is that my map?” she snapped, snatching it from Holly. “You signed for my map?”
14
Finally
Thanks to Principal Hayes, Holly left the school with an address of an auto repair shop in Southern Lakes that also had a few cars on their lot to rent. Leaving her Suburban Godzilla at the auto repair, Holly took possession of a brick-red Buick sedan that had crazy high mileage and worn seats that slumped where your butt sat. The smell inside the Buick was a mix of stale cigarettes, pine air fresheners, and the deep fat used to fry onion rings. Do I detect a cat smell? Holly checked the back seat. Vacuum tracks across the velour seats, occasional traces of cat hair.
“Are you sure no one’s tried living in here? No dead bodies in the trunk?” Holly asked the man holding the clipboard. Not wanting to contaminate Ella’s booster seat, she asked him for another car, but none were available, and she couldn’t wait. She was running out of time and still hoped to swing home to grab a shower and change her clothes before Ella got home.