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Morgan King is a twenty-three-year-old virgin who has never had a proper boyfriend. The fussy young woman longs to meet a man who will be everything like the heroes in the spanking romance novels she loves to read. When such a man comes along, Morgan is sure that he must be too good to be true. Although they’ve had a great online relationship for months, she balks at actually meeting him.
Jackson Brooks is a twenty-nine-year-old middle school teacher who works at his family’s summer camp. When he gets to know Morgan on the Internet, he is sure she’s the girl for him. They are both ready to settle down, and he doesn’t understand why she is so hesitant to meet him in person. When he discovers that she has sent him a fake photo, he is not happy. He can’t deal with it right away, however, because summer camp is about to begin, and this year, he’s the director. He decides to give Morgan some space while he does what he has to.
Morgan is devastated when she realizes she has probably blown things with Jackson. She is desperate, and hatches a plan to get to know him secretly. She books herself into Sunnyvale Summer Camp under the name of Alyssa King, using her sister’s birth certificate. Instead of assuring herself that nothing could possibly go wrong, she should have been asking herself what would happen when Jackson discovered her deceit. Will he be so angry that he sends her away, or will he choose another method of showing his displeasure – demonstrating that insects aren’t the only things at camp that sting?
DISCLAIMER: This book contains the spanking of adult women.
Morgan pushed open her apartment door and allowed it to slam shut behind her while she struggled into the tiny kitchen with her groceries. Calling them groceries was a stretch. It was basically toilet paper, wine, juice, milk, frozen dinners and a box of Coco Pops. Small array of stuff for a short woman and her small life. Morgan stacked the meals neatly in the tiny freezer atop her fridge, not that she was actually a neat person normally, it was just that she’d found from experience if you didn’t stack the meals neatly they had a tendency to fall out on your toe the first time you went looking for ice.
With a glass of wine, her cigarettes in her pocket and her laptop under her arm, Morgan padded out to the balcony and curled up in her hanging egg chair. This chair was the first and most important thing she’d purchased when she moved in. Her apartment wasn’t exactly a palace, but she had managed to make it into a home. Things were just the way she liked them, except for being alone. Her laptop sprang to life as soon as the lid was opened and she found she was holding her breath while she waited to see if Jackson was on. Jackson was the yet to be met man in her life. Yes, there was the green light and he was already typing. She hoped Jackson had been excited at the thought of chatting to her too.
Teach86: How was your day?
Dreamer12: Busy—I was hoping you’d be on
Teach86: I’ve been waiting for you. I have stuff to do but I wanted to talk first, I’ve missed you
Dreamer12: I’ve missed you too
Teach86: Good, I’m glad. Have you missed me enough to think about meeting me? The summer is nearly here and we might miss our opportunity
She looked at the picture that he’d sent her the night before. Jackson Brooks, middle school teacher, tall, dark and gorgeous. Yet he looked like he would be just as happy on a board at the skate park as in a classroom. There was something about those eyes though that were—stern? Jackson, if that was actually his name, had sent her a few images, all fairly casual but her favorite was the one where he had a tank top on and his arms were folded, showing off his biceps to full advantage. Oh, but to have those arms wrapped tightly around her! Morgan hadn’t yet, despite his requests, sent any images back. She’d told him her first name, that was it. There was a little niggle in the back of her brain, that he just might be too good to be true. I mean, everyone had seen that show, the one where they caught people that scammed unsuspecting people that were looking for love. What if he was some kind of weirdo or worse, an axe murderer or something? That was the trouble with meeting someone on line. There was no way to be sure that they were who they said they were. Was she ready to take that risk by putting herself out there completely?
Dreamer12: It’s not that I don’t want to meet you, I’ve been really busy
Teach86: Too busy to send me a photo?
Dreamer12: No I guess not that busy
Teach86: It can just be of your face if you like. I’d just like to picture the person I’m talking to
Dreamer12: I’m sure it’s my face that you’re chomping at the bit to see
Teach86: Hmm, so you think I’m shallow
Dreamer12: I didn’t say that
Teach86: You don’t trust me. We’ve been talking on here for months yet we’ve never met. I don’t know what you look like. Wouldn’t you like to take things to the next level?
Dreamer12: You want to have online sex?
Teach86: No! When the time is right for that, I like the real thing
Dreamer12: I was joking!
What the hell had made her say that? Panic, that’s what. She didn’t want to make Jackson feel like she didn't trust him. More than that, there was nothing she wanted more than for him to turn out to be the man of her dreams. It was shaping up that way; she just needed to gain the courage to take a leap. There was always a scary “what if” but then there was another what if, a good what if. If an image would appease him and take the pressure off this conversation, then she would send one. It would take a minute though to come up with one. Things had gone silent which was worrying so maybe she better be quick.
Dreamer12: Please, don’t be angry, Jackson. I’ll send you a photo
Teach86: I’m not mad, or angry, I’m disappointed that’s all. I don’t know how to prove to you that I’m an okay guy
Dreamer12: I think you’re more than an okay guy and I do trust you.
Teach86: I’d love to see a photo of you, if you feel you’re ready
Dreamer12: I’ll see what I can do
Morgan quickly flipped through photos of herself. There was not one that she wanted to send. As hard as she wanted to, she couldn’t shift the feeling of trepidation that was curling in her belly. She realized that it wasn’t just fear of something happening to her that was holding her back, it was fear of rejection and of not knowing what his type was. He could be repulsed by her or something. If she sent a false image, it might buy some time. The harried young woman did a Google image search. One image she really liked but she quickly discounted it. Jackson was no dummy, he would twig straight away that a shot of a model posing on a rock, perfect hair, make up and strategically placed bikini was not her. The waterfall in the foreground was a dead giveaway. God, she wished she had those boobs though and that tan. She went to another image. This woman in the picture looked a bit older than her but that might be a plus. It was a classy shot, she liked that.
Teach86: Are you still online, Morgan?
Dreamer12: Yep, I sure am. Just having some technical issues
Oh dammit, it would have to do. A few more clicks and it was done, she’d sent it. She’d done the one thing that she didn’t want to be done to her. Not nice but it was too late now to change it. Morgan couldn’t breathe while she waited for his response.
Teach86: You’re very beautiful
Dreamer12: Do you think so?
Would he still think she was beautiful if he was actually looking at her? She wasn’t ugly or anything but her skin wasn’t flawless. She had freckles all over her face and her boobs were kind of puny compared to the woman she’d chosen. Her bottom wasn’t anywhere near as neatly packaged as the one in the photograph. She wasn’t fat but wouldn’t pass for a stick figure model either. She was ordinary. This felt like a giant mistake that she hadn’t thought through. What had she been thinking? If this relationship did turn into something deeper, he’d have to meet her someday.
Teach86: Yes, I do, you are perfect
Was that a hint of sarcasm? It was so hard to tell when you were chatting online. I mean, if she had been looking at his face while he said it, she would have known. Maybe she was just imagining sarcasm because she knew she was in reality a big fat liar.
Teach86: Thanks for trusting me, Morgan
Dreamer86: You mean a lot to me, Jackson. Talking to you is the highlight of my day
Teach86: Chatting to you is the highlight of my day too but I want more. I can’t wait to take you on a proper date
Dreamer12: Where would you take me?
Teach86: I’d take you to dinner at a nice restaurant, and then maybe a movie or a walk by the lake
Dreamer12: Traditional, I like it. I bet you open doors for a girl too
Teach86: Of course I would. I’m an old-fashioned guy
Dreamer12: How old fashioned?
Teach 86: Very.
Dreamer12: It would be so sweet to be in a relationship with a kind and traditional guy.
Teach86: I am sweet and I love to appreciate a woman, in lots of different ways.
Morgan didn’t know why but she could feel a turn in this conversation and it was making her nervous and very curious.
Dreamer12: Different ways?
He was trying to tell her something, she could just feel it.
Teach86: Okay at the risk of chasing you off completely I’m going to put it out there; spanking. I like to spank, there, I’ve said it
Wow, that was opening up, she’d give him that. Why couldn’t she just do the same?
Dreamer12: Okay, good to know, I think
Oh, way to put the poor guy at ease. He opens up and tells you something that was obviously hard for him and she says, virtually nothing. She was a coward.
Dreamer12: What, um, gets you about spanking?
Teach86: Everything gets me about it. I love the sound of flesh meeting flesh. I love the feel of a soft bottom cheek as it warms under my hand. I love to watch the flesh ripple when I smack it.
Morgan felt a thud of instant arousal at his words. She had read a ton of romantic spanking books that featured old-fashioned guys as heroes. Could Jackson really be the man of her dreams or at least of her dirty little imagination?
Teach86: Have I scared you off?
Dreamer12: No, I’m still here, you just took me off guard is all
Teach86: Good, I mean, I’m glad that you’re still there
Dreamer12: I’m here and I’m intrigued
Teach86: I’ll take intrigued
Dreamer12: I guess I can’t help imagining what it would be like to be spanked
Teach86: It could be great or it could be quite uncomfortable for you, depending why it is that you’re being spanked.
That word again and those feelings it was giving her.
Dreamer12: I’m an angel, what if that never happens?
Teacher86: Hahahaha; it will happen. I have a feeling about you
Dreamer12: Hmmm, I might have to make it worth it then
Teach86: Really? On that note, as much as I would love to stay here and chat about the ins and outs of all my fantasies, I have report cards to finish. It’s almost the end of the year and I’m running out of time
Dreamer12: Are you still going to camp?
Teach86: Sounds like I’m one of the campers lol. If you’re asking if I’m still taking over the summer job from my brother, then the answer is yes. Their baby is due and, of course, he wants to be there with his wife
Dreamer12: For the birth you mean?
Teach86: And at least a week or so after
Dreamer12: I hope you have fun being camp counselor or whatever it’s called
Teach86: Camp Director
Dreamer12: Bossman lol I like a man who can take charge
Oh my God, did she just say that? In light of what he’d told her it seemed—forward.
Teach86: Uh huh, well I guess it’s something like that. Anyway, baby, I better get back to my reports
Dreamer12: Okay, will you be on tomorrow night?
Teach86: Sure will, Morgan. Hey, in light of our personal conversation, do you think you’re ready to tell me your last name now?
Dreamer12: My last name?
Damn, she should have just told him, but that would have defeated the purpose of sending him a fake photo wouldn’t it?
Teach86: Yes, your last name.
Dreamer12: Oh yeah
Morgan tapped nervously on the hand rest of her laptop. She was seriously sorry she’d sent the stupid fake photo now. He’d opened up and told her stuff that somehow made them feel closer. What if she told him her name and he did some kind of search and he found out she lied? He wouldn’t want to know her.
Dreamer12: About that…
Teach86: Two steps back?
Damn, damn, damn, the clock was ticking inside her head and she didn’t know what to do. Did she give him a fake name to match the photo that wasn’t her? Did she tell him her real last name and then explain that she lied? Maybe she should just tell him her name and hope he didn’t put two and two together. Alarm bells were ringing.
Dreamer12: I’ll explain when we have more time but I just can’t…
Teach86: And we’re back to square one
And he was gone. She had ruined everything. What if she really lost her opportunity with Jackson this time?
* * *
Jackson closed the page but not his laptop. He wasn’t angry at Morgan but he was making a point. Call it a virtual slap on the ass. He felt a connection to this woman but they were marking time because of her inability to allow it move forward. The fact that he’d told her that he was into spanking and she hadn’t shut him out told him there was hope for this relationship.
When Jackson first opened his account and set up his profile on the dating site, he had been very clear that he was after a girl who was ready for a serious relationship that would hopefully lead to marriage. He was, as he had discussed with Morgan many times, a laid back guy but he also had a traditional streak that he couldn’t deny. It was part of him. She knew what he was looking for and yet she was still playing games. He looked at the photograph she’d sent him. There was no doubt that this person in the image he was looking at was beautiful, but there was something that felt contrived. He would put money on it being a fake.
He so wanted to trust Morgan but she wasn’t making it easy. He found himself opening a Google image search page. He selected the photo he’d saved to his computer and bingo, multiple images exactly the same popped up before his eyes. “Damn,” he said out loud to no-one but himself; Morgan had lied to him. That wasn’t a great start even for a friendship, let alone for someone who was supposed to be serious about looking for a serious relationship.
The next question was, what on earth was he supposed to do with this new found information? He knew what he’d like to do. If he could get hold of her, Jackson would like nothing more than to turn Morgan over his knee and give her a sound spanking for playing games with him like this. Then he would hug her tight and make her see that she could trust him. Damn it, he was a good guy. All he needed was an opportunity to show that. Part of him could almost understand why Morgan didn’t trust him. She hardly knew him but that didn’t mean she had to lie like that. Fine, stand up to him, tell him to step off. Tell him that she wasn’t ready to send a photo or to meet him yet, ask for some kind of proof that he was who he said he was, explain that she needed more time. That he would understand. Morgan was right to be cautious with her own safety, but lying and stealing someone else’s identity and passing it off as her own was a step too far. Did he want to be with someone who could be that deceitful? It was a big question and now wasn’t the time to try and figure that out, his plate was full and it was about to overflow with his summer job. Sorting all this out would be a task for when summer was over. If she still wanted to talk to him then, well and good, he would have it out with her. He couldn’t just leave her hanging though. Tomorrow he would leave her a message that explained he would be offline until after his stint at the camp. He needed to have his head in the game if he was to take care of the needs of all the summer campers properly. It was time to focus on work.
Morgan was under Jackson’s skin and later that night as he drifted in and out of a fitful sleep, the teacher couldn’t help but slip into a fantasy of what he would like to be doing with his naughty online girl if he finally met her in person…
“I didn’t mean to lie,”
“No? Was it someone else who took possession of your mind and your fingers and somehow remotely sent me a photo from an image search?” He could see her mind ticking.
“Don’t even try it!”
“Fine! I shouldn’t have sent the image but I panicked, okay?”
“No, it’s not okay. Not okay in even a slight way. I thought we were building trust. “
“We were, I mean we are, we could if you gave me another chance.”
“I don’t know if I can. Every time you tell me something I’ll be asking myself should I be reading between the lines.”
“It won’t be like that.”
Perched against the hood of his car, not caring a damn about neighbors or stickybeaks, Jackson ran a hand through his hair. “I can think of only one thing that will fix this.” He grabbed the surprised young woman’s hand. “Do you trust me now?”
“You know I do.”
“Good, it’s about time you trusted me but it may be too little, too late.” With a tug, he toppled her over his knee. The material of her light weight skirt was quite delicate and he had no trouble raising it and exposing her lacy underwear. Nice; he was a sucker for nice panties. He brought his hand down across both cheeks. His pink handprint could be seen clearly through the fine lace and it stood out against her pale skin.
“Ow, that hurt!” Morgan yelped.
“Oh hush, I hardly touched you.” Jackson’s hand kept bouncing until the once pale target was completely covered, the first handprint having disappeared into the pink hue…
Would it go so easily?
* * *
After waiting for an hour to see if Jackson would appear online again, Morgan gave up. Maybe something had happened to his internet she mused, kidding herself that the timing of her hedging about opening up to Jackson and his disappearance weren’t related. She was an idiot. Not much she could do about it now except wait and see.
There was nothing more that night but the next morning when she checked, there was a private message.
I know you lied to me. I have to concentrate on work for a while. Can’t deal with this now.
Cold fear hit her like a punch in the gut. Why was she surprised? It was what she had suspected. Oh well, that was that. She promptly burst into tears.
After another two days passed without contact, Morgan decided to bite the bullet and do something. She missed Jackson so much and couldn’t just sit there, her mind full of regret. If only she had just sent one of her ugly old photos and been honest. She wanted to fix things but how was it possible to explain or apologize if he was ignoring her? Suddenly, an epiphany struck! What if she could kill two birds with one stone? What if it were possible to get to know Jackson close up without him knowing who she was or what she was doing? Once she was sure Jackson was, in fact, the genuine person he had seemed to be, she would come clean and tell him who she was and why it had been necessary to go to such extreme lengths. She would get her chance to apologize for being such a sketchy brat. Perfect plan! There was nothing like covering up a lie with an even bigger faker lie than the first one. It was all working for the greater good, that’s all. That was the trouble with epiphanies; common sense didn’t always apply.
* * *
Morgan picked up the phone and called the number that was advertised on the online site of the sleepover camp that Jackson had mentioned he would be running for his brother. Taking the vacation time that was owed from work, would make it possible to take a summer job for a week or so. Then she could see him in action. The phone rang several times and she nearly hung up before someone answered.
“Good afternoon! Sunnyvale Summer Camp, Genevieve speaking?” a musically lilted voice answered.
“Oh, um hi, I was wondering if you still had vacancies?”
“Placings for children?”
“Ah, no, sorry, I meant positions vacant for camp counselors?”
“Oh honey I’m sorry, those jobs have all been filled.”
Disappointment weighed on Morgan’s heart heavily. “Thanks anyway,” she said before ending the call. There went that brilliant idea. No way to find Jackson and no way to fix this.
The site was still open on her laptop when something caught her eye. There were still a few vacancies for kids in the thirteen to sixteen-year age group. Could she get away with it? She opened up the registration page and scanned the questions and paperwork requirements. They needed a birth certificate. There was no picture on a birth certificate, she could use her sister Alyssa’s. Her mom and dad would think she was nuts if they found out but no need to involve them. She would just put her own cell number down. It was a perfect plan, okay the second perfect plan of the day. Alyssa would become her name on all the documents and in person when she got there. She would have to take her cell in case they called a parent or guardian. Morgan would answer the phone, or ring them back if it wasn’t a good time. Her real name would then have to be her sister’s mother’s name, their mother’s name or if that was too complicated, maybe she could just pretend to be her real self, the real Alyssa’s guardian, who was the real her. All she had to do once she got there was remember to answer to Alyssa, her sister’s name instead of her own. Of course her sister wasn’t even fifteen yet so she would have to look young. What she needed was not only to borrow her sister’s birth certificate, she needed to borrow her sister’s things. Her clothes, her shoes, her attitude. She looked at the date. She had to transform herself back into a bratty teenager and she needed to do it in under a week.
Morgan finished filling out the online forms, balking not a little at the price of a two-week camp. Luckily she had savings but still, this would all but clean her out. After she bought a few essentials, she would have to scrounge most of what she needed from the real Alyssa. It was time to sort that out. It was late but time was ticking and she could go on the site tomorrow to find there were no places left.
* * *
Morgan used her key and let herself into her parents’ house. There was a faint flickering light coming from the television in the living room and the smell of a roast from their dinner was still lingering.
“Morgan is that you, honey?” her mom called out.
“How’d you know it was me?”
“You used your key.” Her mom came to greet her, kissing her cheek and giving her a hug. “We missed you. It’s late though, everything all right?”
“Hey, baby girl,” her dad said, coming to fold her in a big hug. “You okay?”
“I’m fine guys. I just needed to borrow something from Alyssa. Is she here?”
“Yes, she’s in her room.”
“Great, I’ll just pop up and see her if that’s okay.”
“Of course it is. Would you like something to drink or a sandwich, some cookies maybe? There’s still plenty left from dinner.”
“No, I’m fine, Mom, thank you. Honestly, I just called in to see Alyssa. I have work tomorrow. I will come for dinner in a few days though if that’s okay?”
“That would be lovely, we miss you, you know,” her mom said.
“I know, Mom, I miss you too.”
After successfully working her way around her mom and dad, Morgan made her way up the stairs and to her sister’s room. Her dilemma of the moment was whether to tell the teenager the whole truth or whether to adjust the story a little.
“I thought I heard your voice,” Alyssa said flinging open her door.
“Hey, shrimp,” Morgan said shoving her younger sister into her room and following her, then closing the door behind them both. Luckily, although her sister was slightly taller than her, they were still about the same clothes size. Her sister was still skinny, but apart from that she was almost a younger version of herself. “I need a couple of favors.”
“A couple of favors…” Her sister grinned. “Sounds interesting.”
“Yes; firstly, I need your birth certificate and then…”
“Then? My birth certificate? Um, I thought I was supposed to be the one that asks to borrow your ID?”
“Seriously, you’re interrupting. Didn’t anyone ever teach you to respect your elders?”
Alyssa poked out her tongue. “I think since you are doing the favor asking here, that I’m the one who’s holding all the cards. Spill, what are you up to?”
“I’ll pay you twenty dollars if you let me borrow your birth certificate and a few of your clothes.”
“Really?” Alyssa scoffed, “A whole twenty dollars? I don’t want or need your money, I have a job remember? All I want is the juicy details of whatever’s going on.”
Morgan sighed. She had forgotten about Alyssa’s dog walking job. The kid could probably lend her money; after all, her existence was still free while she lived at home. “Promise you won’t tell?”
“Do I look like some kind of snitch to you? Anyway, you’re twenty-three years old and you have your own apartment. Who would I tell? You can do whatever the hell you want.”
“Point taken, but don’t tell Mom and Dad anyway, okay?”
“Of course not, now tell me what’s going on will you, the suspense is killing me.”
“There’s a guy.”
“Of course there is!” Alyssa said with a giggle.
“Do you want to know what’s going on or not?” Morgan asked, losing patience.
“Yes, you know I do. What about this guy?”
“Well, I kind of got to know him online and he wants to meet me. I want to make sure he’s legit you know?”
“Well, yes! He could be an axe murderer or some other kind of crazy person but I’m confused about what you need my stuff for.”
“You can’t laugh.”
“I’m not laughing,” Alyssa said with a grin. “I’m not laughing much.”
“He’s going to be a director of a summer camp for middle school kids this summer. He’s standing in for his brother and sister in-law who own the camp.” She watched her sister’s eyes widen and then she flopped back on the bed in a fit of laughter. “You said you wouldn’t laugh.”
“I said I wasn’t laughing then,” she said, sitting back up and wiping her eyes. “This shit is too funny. You really think you are going to look and act like a fourteen-year-old for two or three weeks just to catfish some poor old teacher guy?”
“Hey! I’m not cat fishing anyone. That’s online and this is in person. And, he's not old, he’s pretty cute actually.”
“Whatever; cut to the bit about you faking being a fourteen-year-old for two weeks. You really think you can pull that off?”
“I’m going to try.”
Alyssa smiled widely. “I wish I could see that. Take what ever you want but I think you should try it all on first so I can give you some pointers.”
* * *
As per her sister’s instructions, Morgan had scrubbed her face clean and donned a pair of cut off shorts and a t-shirt.
“Geez, you do look kind of young, and really like me, sort of.”
“Well, we are sisters.”
“I know but you’re old.”
“We just had this conversation, I’m twenty-three, that hardly makes me ancient.” Alyssa didn’t seem to be listening, she was staring at Morgan’s head. “What?”
“There’s something wrong with your hair. We need to do something with your hair, or less with your hair.”
Morgan took a lot of time in the morning doing her hair and making herself look just so, well what she thought was just so anyway. “What’s wrong with my hair?”
“Don’t get all offended,” Alyssa said, “I’m only trying to help you. Do you want to blend in with the other kids at this camp or do you wanna look like a weird, not very good undercover cop?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re wearing my clothes and your body is youngish, on account of you have less boobs than me, but the way you wear your make up and your hair and stuff makes you look, not fourteen,” Alyssa said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Your hair is too tidy and kind of puffy. Try to think, I don’t know, like a kid.”
Morgan disappeared into the bathroom and brushed her hair out straight. “Yuk,” she said to the reflection in the mirror. She couldn’t leave it like that. She fiddled around with it until she had made what she thought was an acceptable style.
When the door to the bathroom opened, Alyssa once again threw herself back on the bed in a fit of giggles.
“What?” Morgan was getting exasperated now. She couldn’t do any of this right, how was she going to fool the kids and counselors at camp.
“Pigtails? You’re supposed to look fourteen, not four.”
“How would I know what kind of hairstyle I need?”
“Look at me you dummy? I am a fourteen-year-old girl.”
“You’re an untidy brat.”
“Exactly, that’s the look you’re going for. Look, I’ll show you.” Alyssa pulled out the hair tie that was buried inside her messy bun and shook out her hair. “Now gather it all up and put it into a pony tail and then loop it in here. See? It looks great!”
“You didn’t even use a brush. Don’t you brush your hair?”
“I said I’m untidy, I’m not a total pig. Of course I brush my hair, I just don’t think it’s important to tame every hair to within an inch of its life.”
“Okay, I think I get it. I’m going to have to go. Thank you though, hon, I really appreciate it.” She gathered up her sister’s clothes and placed them into a bag before kissing her sister’s cheek and heading for the door.
* * *
Jackson tapped on his iPad, tempted to make contact with Morgan, just to see how she was doing. If she cared about him at all, she must be wondering what on earth was happening, he was. In fact, he had hardly stopped thinking about her. Still, this wasn’t the time. The first bus load of kids was due to arrive and he had to have his mind on the game. He was well aware that these kids were away from home, some of them for the first time and it was his job, all the adults’ jobs, to make everyone feel at ease from the get go.
He put the device into the drawer and closed it and then plonked his cap on his head. “Time to put your happy face on, chief,” he said. There would be time to decide what to do about little Miss Morgan later.