Billionaire's Single Mom

I sighed. We’d been divorced for years now. Even if he decided to show up with every skank in Nashville on his arm, it wasn’t my business. After all, there was no love left between us to destroy. When I signed those divorce papers, the last part of me that cared about him died.

Yeah. I knew all that, but it still hurt. This was the sixth twenty-something girl that bastard Lionel had shown off since we’d divorced. He couldn’t even manage enough decency to bring the same girl from the fundraiser dinner.

How did he even find so many young girls to date him? I wondered if he went to some seedy hook-up app to find them. Maybe he bragged a little about his money. It’s pretty easy to impress a young girl who doesn’t know that much about life.

I spared another glance over at his latest girl. Her skirt was a thin flap of fabric, and her top a glorified bra. Plus, petty as it was to notice, her boobs were too big given the rest of her body. She’d obviously had work done.

A kids’ function at my daughter’s school was not the place to bring some half-naked Playboy Playmate-looking girl. More than a few other parents nearby were giving the couple some side-eye, so I knew it wasn’t just me being a petty bitch. Well, not completely anyway.

My stomach tightened over a sudden thought, and I had to stop myself from gagging. Lionel might have paid for her boob job. Just because this was the first time I was seeing this girl didn’t mean they’d just gotten together. After all, he’d slept with more than a few women when we were married, so for all I knew, he was cheating on every woman he dated.

I sucked in a breath, enjoying the warmth of Logan’s hand on mine. I could have sworn my lips still tingled from the surprise kiss. Another thing I should have been mad about, but I couldn’t bring myself to be. Not only because of the glares Lionel kept shooting our way after the kiss, but because the truth was, I liked the kiss, as sweet and restrained as it was.

Reaching up with my other hand, I gently brushed my lips, then tensed and dropped my hand, hoping Logan hadn’t noticed. I looked to the side without turning my head. He was staring right at me.

“It’s okay to have liked it,” Logan said. “I did.” He shrugged.

“I’m just happy it made Lionel mad,” I offered back, not wanting to lead him on and make him think we had more going on.

Yes, this time I wasn’t drunk, and I’d remember it, but that didn’t mean we were together. I mean, yes, we were sitting together in the audience, but I’d tell anyone around us I was not dating Logan Hawkins.

A bit of disappointment played across his face, making me feel awful. I kept pushing and pushing and pushing him away.

I’d told myself it was to protect my daughter, but now I had to face that it might be more about protecting my own heart.

Logan gave me no indication he was anything more than he appeared, a handsome, successful man who was interested in me. There I sat, still stewing over my ex-husband and ignoring the man right next to me.

For the first time in a long time, I let my mind wonder, “What if?” I let my heart open a crack and entertain the idea that a great guy might be interested in me.

I smiled warmly at Logan. He smiled back.

“Excuse me,” said the principal over a microphone. We both looked toward the auditorium. “Ms. Johnson’s class will now sing ‘The Spring Song.’”

I reluctantly pulled my hand away from Logan’s to clap as my daughter’s class filed out on stage, each dressed in a different cute costume of flowers, bees, and butterflies. Juniper came out almost last, doing her part as the most adorable blue flower in all of Tennessee.

The kids lined up across the stage. Their teacher moved to the side, and then a bouncy tune started playing in the background. A few intro measures passed, and then the kids all raised their voice in song.

Like most young kids, they weren’t exactly the kings and queens of harmony, but they sang loudly and proudly, doing a little spinning dance at the same time. The whole performance wasn’t all that long, over in a couple of minutes.

I blinked, realizing I hadn’t recorded it. I sucked in a breath and resisted a curse. I’d let myself get so caught up in the drama with Lionel that I hadn’t even thought about it. Sighing, I glanced over at Logan. He was holding his phone, recording the whole thing.

Happiness flooded back through me. I jumped to my feet to clap, earning a few stares from people at first, but then Logan joined me, and then other parents did until we had a standing ovation for the class.

I smiled as Juniper’s class headed offstage, trying to get her attention with a wave. She didn’t look my way, so I assumed she’d not seen me.

“Parents, just as a reminder,” the principal said, after moving back to the microphone, “the performers will be backstage with their teachers until after the entire program is over.”

Logan snickered, and I sighed. So much for my brilliant back-row escape plan. I settled in for the next performance.

* * *

About forty minutes later, we’d successfully escaped out the back. Lionel stood with his skank not that far from the door to the auditorium. I muttered some very unkind and unchristian things under my breath about both of them.

Other parents emerged from the auditorium, quickly filling the area with bodies and the sound of conversation.

I moved toward the back door of the stage, careful to walk to the other side, so I wouldn’t be close to Lionel. Logan followed.

“That was cute,” Logan said. “My first time really going to that sort of thing.”