can just call me Coach. Everyone does.â He looked her in the eyes. âBut my real name is Jamarcus Vinson.â
This guyâs name was Jamarcus. Crisis averted! Perhaps he was just one of those lookalikes that everyone is rumored to have. Then it dawned on her: Mark could just be short for Jamarcus.
She swallowed. âDo you have a nickname? Jay or Marcus, perhaps?â
He laughed. âThe only person who calls me Jamarcus is my great-grandmother, and sheâs ninety-six, so I let her get away with it. Most people just call me Mark.â
Most people just call me Mark . The words echoed a thousand times in her head, and Lawson felt her body go limp.
Mark caught Lawson just as she lost her bearing. âAre you all right?â he asked, propelling her back up.
Lydia was alarmed. âDo you need me to buzz the office?â
âNo, Iâm all right,â Lawson insisted. âI just got really dizzy for a second.â
âHere, sit down.â Mark ushered Lawson into his classroom and seated her at his desk. âIs that better?â She nodded.
âIâll get you some water,â offered Lydia and darted out of the room.
Mark crouched down beside Lawson. âThe first day can be a little overwhelming. Just take a couple of deep breaths and relax.â
Lawson closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. âI donât know what came over me.â
Mark placed his hand over her forehead. âHave you eaten anything today?â
âI was too nervous to eat.â Lawson couldnât stop staring at him. Along with his dimpled smile. Mark had also given Namon his amber eyes and broad shoulders.
âWell, we canât have you passing out from starvation on your very first day. The first rule of teaching. . .â He opened his desk drawer and revealed an assortment of potato chips, snack cakes, cookies, and trail mix. âNever run out of snacks. Take whatever you want.â
Lawson selected a small bag of crackers. âYouâve got quite a stash here.â
âAny teacher worth his or her weight has one of these, but you can feel free to raid mine until you build up one of your own.â
âThank you.â Lawson tried to open the wrapper, but she was trembling so badly that it slipped out of her hands.
âHere, let me.â He tore open the bag and fed her one of the crackers.
âIâm not that fragile. I can feed myself,â she said.
âWell, as your mentor, my job is to take care of you, and I plan to do just that.â He smiled again, reminding her of what caused her to faint in the first place. âDo you have family around here?â he asked her. âIs there someone I can call to pick you up in case youâre too sick to drive home?â
âYes, my family is here . . . I have a sister,â she sputtered, not knowing exactly what to say. âAnd a child . . .â A childâ his child! A child he never knew existed.
âYou look like you could keel over at any moment.â
âIâll manage.â Lawson tried to stand up, but swooned, still lightheaded.
Mark helped her back to the chair. âIâm sure youâll manage just fine eventually, but right now, youâre going to let me take care of you. You sit right there. Iâll be back with some aspirin.â His eyes met hers, and he flashed another grin.
The smiled revealed it, and the name had confirmed it. There was no mistake about it: Lawson was staring into a pair of eyes that she hadnât seen in fourteen years. She was looking at the face of her sonâs father.
Chapter 7
âIs he flirting with me? Do I want him to be?â
â Sullivan Webb
Â
Sullivan double-checked the address Charles had given her. She cringed when she discovered she was in the right place. The automotive center that Charles had sent her to was not the boutique service station she was expecting, but a run-down garage