Nanny and the Alpha Daddy

#Chapter 163: Art Department

Moana

Both Ella’s and my eyes widened when Edrick came out into the dining room early the next morning and announced his plans.

“Get dressed, both of you,” he said. “We’re going to look at a school today.”

Ella’s jaw dropped. “A school?!” she shrieked, jumping up from her chair excitedly. “Really?”

Edrick nodded with a slight smile. “Yep. We’re gonna look into sending you to school like all of the other kids. Would you like that?”

With a wide, ecstatic grin, Ella nodded vehemently and ran over to her father. She threw her little arms around his legs and hugged him tightly. “Yes, daddy!” she shouted. “I really really want to go to school!”

Ella’s excitement made me smile, and I could tell that Edrick was trying — and failing — to hide a smile of his own. “Go get dressed, then,” he said. “We don’t have a lot of time. I told the headmistress we’d be there soon.”

Ella took off at a full sprint toward her room. I thought I heard the sound of her tripping, falling, and skidding across the floor on her way, but she seemed fine. I stood, smiling, and placed my hands on my hips.

did think about it, huh?” I

shrugged. “You were right. Ella does belong in school, and she deserves to socialize with other kids. Besides…

was confident that I could easily handle both a baby and Ella on my own, so long as I had just a little help — but I wasn’t about to argue with Edrick. I was just glad that he

dressed and helping Ella get ready, the three of us headed downstairs. It turned out that Edrick chose the school that was within walking distance, which made me happy, and so we walked to meet the headmistress. Ella walked between us, holding one of each of our hands, and it really did feel like we were a little family. The walk was nice, too, and I imagined that I would

for fruit and vegetables. As we walked up the long pebble pathway to the front door, an elderly woman stepped out onto the front stoop and waved to us. She had long white hair that was piled into a neat bun on top of her head, and wore an elegant suit jacket with a matching pencil skirt. As we approached, I saw that she had the school emblem — a golden crown — embroidered

must be Mr. Morgan, Miss Ella, and…” she turned toward

out my hand. The old woman shook it with a

and held open the heavy wooden door

countless

to a closed and

dark room with all of the furniture covered by white sheets. The

used?” I asked,

isn’t what it used to be,” she replied. “And

I frowned. “What happened?”

“Our beloved art teacher passed away a couple of years ago,” she said. “She was getting on in age. We haven’t

damper on my opinion of the school. Of course it was out of the headmistress’s control, but