Excerpt from Dragon Guard Warrior
By Alicia Montgomery
No matter how many times Poppy Baxter wiped her hands, her palms refused to stay dry.
Though she rubbed them down the polyester-blend fabric of her trouser suit repeatedly, sweat would inevitably begin to form on them again, even in the temperature-controlled environment of the Wilfordshire Nanny Staffing Agency waiting room.
She shifted on the leather couch, trying to ignore the other people around her: all young, good-looking women—and one man—groomed and made-up, wearing clothes that probably cost more than what she earned in a week as a primary school teacher.
Used to earn, she corrected herself. That was the reason she was here, after all.
“Is he yours?”
The question jolted Poppy out of her thoughts, and she quickly glanced beside her where her son, Wesley, had his head bowed down, so deeply engrossed in his book it was as if no one else was in the room.
“Yes, he is,” she said to the woman on the settee across from them.
“He’s adorable.” The woman smiled, got up, smoothing her hands down her wool skirt. Circling around the chrome and glass coffee table, she knelt in front of Wesley. “Hello, poppet. How old are you?”
Wesley’s gaze flickered up her, then to Poppy’s, before rolling his eyes. “Nine,” he replied, then returned to his book.
“Nine going on thirty,” Poppy said with a nervous chuckle.
She remained unfazed by Wesley’s curtness. “Oh wow, nine years old.” She glanced at the book’s title. “And you’re reading Greek myths and legends already. That’s a big book for a boy your age. Which one is your favorite? I bet it’s Hercules. Every boy wants to be strong and brave like Hercules.”
Without looking up from the pages, Wesley said, “Hercules was an ill-tempered, unstable brute. Why would I want to be like him?”
Her expression only faltered for a moment.
“You’re so precious.” She looked up at Poppy, her face a cheerful mask.
“And very smart. I bet you’re proud of his …
uh, critical thinking skills. You must be so progressive about his education, and not one of those parents who censor what their child reads. ”
It wasn’t like she could even stop Wesley from reading whatever book he got his hands on. He’d already read most of the books in the Sheffield Primary School library, and so this year, she started taking him to the local public library.
The woman stood up and looked around her slyly, then reached into her skirt pocket and placed something in Poppy’s hands. “If you find the candidates here lacking, my schedule is open as of the moment. I’m sure we could come to an agreement.”
“Excuse me?” Glancing down at her palm, Poppy read the card the young woman had placed in her hand. It read “Allison Brown, Professional Nanny.” Then it dawned on her. “Oh, I think there’s a misunder—”
“Ms. Baxter? Poppy Baxter?”
At the sound of her name, Poppy shot up from the couch. “Er, that’s me.”
The woman standing in the doorway peered at her through black-rimmed glasses, though her expression revealed nothing. “Right. Come along this way, please.”
“Thank you. One moment if you please.” Turning to Wesley, she said, “You have everything you need for now?”
“I’ll be fine, Mum.” He reached out and put a hand over hers. “You’ll get the job. Good luck.”
Her heart warmed. Despite how she messed up her own life, she still couldn’t believe Wesley had turned out to be such a wonderful child. “Thank you, Wes.”
The young woman’s expression now turned to disdain as she realized Poppy was not a potential client, but competition. “I’ll be taking that, thank you.” She snatched the card back and bristled as she turned away and marched back to her seat.
Poppy huffed, then shrugged. Not like I lied to her. Turning on her heel, she headed toward the office door, following the woman inside.
“I’m Miriam Fletcher, Director of Placement here at Wilfordshire,” she introduced, her voice crisp and clear. “Have a seat, Ms. Baxter.” She pointed to the chair in front of the large glass desk, then sat on the seat behind it.
“Thank you.” Poppy did as instructed, keeping her back straight as she sat on the edge of the chrome and leather chair.
Ms. Fletcher opened the brown folder sitting on top of her desk, lowering her head as her eyes scanned across the page.
“Ms. Baxter. You were a former primary school teacher for six years. So, tell me.” She lifted her gaze toward Poppy, eyes boring into her.
“Why the sudden career change? Aren’t you overqualified to be a nanny? ”
Because my wanker of an ex-husband had to get himself involved in a scandal that not only cost him his job, but also mine.
Poppy swallowed hard. Though that was the truth, she couldn’t say it out loud.
But she couldn’t lie either, so she settled on the answer she’d practiced at home.
“I love—loved my job, truly. The teaching profession is in my blood, and it’s always been my dream to mold the fine young minds of the next generation.
However, over the years, I felt like I wasn’t making much of a difference in the classroom.
I wanted to make a more immediate impact by helping parents, by giving them peace of mind knowing their children were safe and happy at home.
” It wasn’t complete rubbish, but she couldn’t very well tell Ms. Fletcher that after she was forced to resign from her job, no one else would hire her, and now, nannying was her only choice.
“Ah, I see.” Ms. Fletcher closed the folder. “And I assume that the news about your ex-husband’s departure from his team has nothing to do with your career change?”
Poppy’s stomach sank. I’m an idiot.
How could she even think the staff at Wilfordshire wouldn’t look into her background?
And it wasn’t like it was easy to hide. The press wouldn’t leave her and Wesley alone after the news came out about Robbie’s true nature.
They stalked them everywhere, even at work.
But that wasn’t even the worst of it. The other teachers and parents were concerned for their safety and those of the other children, and so the headmaster had no choice but ask her to resign and ask Wesley to leave the school.
That had been a few weeks ago, before Christmas.
She thought the news would die down by now, but it was January, and this was the first callback she’d gotten.
She knew the moment anyone saw her name on her CV they’d figure out who she was, so she was surprised to have even gotten this interview in the first place.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured as humiliation crept into her chest. Though her knees wobbled, she managed to get up. “I’ll see myself out—”
“Wait. Please sit down, Ms. Baxter.”
The words stunned her so much that she plopped back into the seat.
“Is it true?” Ms. Fletcher asked. “About your husband?”
“It is.” Her lips pursed together. Fucking Robbie.
“And your son …”
The humiliation in her gave way to indignation. “I’m not here to discuss my son,” she said in the coldest voice she could muster. “And if you think I’m going to sit here and take your gossip mongering just because I’m desperate for a job, then—”
“Oh no!” Ms. Fletcher interrupted, her face turning a shade of red. “Please. My apologies. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”
“Then why did you call me for an interview if you already knew who I was? And who Robbie is? Am I even here for a real job?”
“You are.”
Poppy found herself stunned for a second time. “I-I am?”
She sighed. “Ms. Baxter … may I call you Poppy?”
She allowed the tension to leave her body. “Yes.”
“Then you may call me Miriam.” Folding her hands together over the table, she leaned forward. “I can only imagine what you and your son have been going through, and I’m sorry. The holidays must have been difficult.”
The woman’s change in demeanor and the kindness in her eyes made something break inside Poppy. “I … yes.” She swallowed the tears burning in her throat. Stupid, stupid Robbie.
Brash, confident, and arrogant; Robbie Baxter, star of the Wexford Wildebeest rugby club, had been on top of the world.
Everyone had celebrated her ex-husband for his natural athletic ability and for leading the team to two consecutive championships.
But then one night, a drunken pub fight while out celebrating with his teammates revealed the secret he’d been keeping for years: He was a cheetah shifter.
Unfortunately, shifters weren’t allowed in human sports leagues because of the unfair advantage of their supernatural speed and strength.
Robbie had been playing professionally for ten years.
He’d managed to keep his shifter nature a secret in the smaller leagues and from most people, even Poppy.
At nineteen and barely an adult herself when they met, she’d been dazzled by his charm.
Then she got pregnant a few months later and they got married.
One day, she’d caught him shifting in their backyard, and he confessed everything.
To say that she was shocked was an understatement, and she warned him that he could get caught. She begged him to try another career, but he loved the game so much, and he promised not to use his shifter abilities to gain an unfair advantage or draw any attention.
Of course, that promise barely lasted longer than their marriage.
Five years ago, he’d caught the eye of a Super League scout and was recruited to Wexford.
It seemed cliché, but the fame and fortune all went to his head, and he ended up cheating on her multiple times.
She stuck around for Wesley’s sake, but one day she’d decided enough was enough and filed for divorce.
He kept playing, rose up the ranks, and delivered the championship titles to his team. Only she knew the secret to his success, and after years of waiting for the axe to fall, it was almost a relief when it did. Almost.