Everyone Deserves a Second Chance: A Billionaire Romance Box Set

by Tara Brent

  It's not easy for mom, taking care of an energetic four-year-old. If I get more hours maybe I can afford pre-kindergarten, which would ease the burden. All I know is that our household finances aren’t balancing, and prices keep going up and up. It has to be done, I need more hours. That’s why I’m going in to see the principal of the school where I work part-time.

  Henry Ainsworth has been the principal at my school forever. He was in that role even when I attended as a student, and he’s still there now, although not much longer. Henry is very good at his job, he seems to understand the needs of his students and his teaching staff too. He’ll be sure to help me when I explain why I need more hours.

  I leave Lucas playing in the back yard and jump into our run-down old truck. It’s on its last legs, or, should I say tires. I’ve made an appointment with Henry and he’ll be expecting me, so this rust bucket better not let me down.

  I get there with a splutter from my rear end, of the truck that is. This vehicle is very embarrassing with all the crap that chugs out of the exhaust. As I arrive at his office, two huge male students are leaving. No doubt they’re in trouble yet again. These are the twins and they can barely read a word between them. They are a part of my workload so I know them well.

  “Barry and Ben, what have you two been up to now?” I ask, already knowing the answer won’t be good.

  “Nothing, Miss Montgomery. It was him,” each of them say together, as they point at one another accusingly. I couldn’t help but smile at their synchrony of words and actions.

  Their eyes went to the floor as they realized how foolish they looked in front of me.

  “I’ll speak to you guys later,” I said in my stern teacher-voice. Though it was difficult to hide my smile as I enter the principal’s office.

  “I see the twins are keeping you busy again,” I say, taking a seat in one of the easy armchairs. These are the cozy chairs, reserved for times when Henry has coffee and a chat with his staff. I’ve sat here for many a coffee session as we try to devise better planning for many of our underprivileged students.

  Agnes, Henry’s secretary, comes in with a tray of coffee and cookies. Henry thanks her and smiles over at me as he leans back in his comfy chair. It’ll be a bit of a break for him from the hustle and bustle of his job.

  “You know, Henry, I could never do your job,” I tell him, taking a sip of Agnes’s famed strong coffee.

  “Hah, well someone has to, I’m due for retirement,” he laughs.

  “It seems ironic that you’re leaving and I’m here to beg for more hours,” I say, on a more serious note.

  “I wondered if that was why you wanted to see me,” he replies. He knows how much I struggle to juggle around caring for my son, my aging mom, and work. “I might have a better solution for you.”

  “I hope you’re not going to offer me your job, Henry,” I say, raising my eyebrows at the joke.

  “It’s yours if you want it, but no. Alas, I’m here for the rest of this academic year,” he says with a light sigh. Not that he wants his retirement to ever happen, he loves his job, but like my mom, he lacks the energy he used to have. “Agnes took a call this morning from someone looking for a local private tutor for a four-year-old girl. It pays well and it might be the answer to your prayers. You’d have to leave here because it’s more or less full time. But I’m sure you could take Lucas along with you on a job like this. What do you think?”

  “I don’t think that’s what I’m looking for, Henry,” I tell him, disappointed to be so awkward. “Who is it anyway? No one in my social circle that's for sure. They struggle to afford their next meal let alone a private tutor.”

  “I don’t know, I didn’t get to talk to him,” Henry says. “Agnes tells me it’s a father she spoke to. He didn’t give away much information because he’s coming in to see me tomorrow. If I can talk you into it, you could come along to the meeting and meet him. Think about it, Chrissy. Your poor old mother could do with a break. I know how she feels, you know.”

  He knows my mom almost as well as he knows me. He’s right, of course, but I hate the thought of leaving all my students.

  “You okay, Chrissy?” Henry’s voice interrupts my daydream. “You look a bit pale.”

  “Oh, yes...yes, I’m fine, thanks, Henry,” I smile reassuringly. “It’s not the job I was expecting, that’s all. Leaving my students feels sort of like an act of betrayal.”

  “Now you understand how I feel,” he replies. “But, needs must come first, Chrissy, and you have needs too. You’ve done well for many of the students in this school. It's time for you to move on. Ever since you returned you’ve worked hard. Take on something a bit easier and be with your son for a while.”

  “I must say, it’s very tempting, Henry,” I reply, giving his idea a bit more thought. “Having Lucas with me would make life so much easier, and for my mom too."

  How can I resist? Henry always has the answers whenever I’ve gone to him for help. He’s like a wizened old wizard. Taking Lucas to work would be perfect. Mom can rest more and even recover a little. Her illness isn’t getting any better, I know that, but with more rest, it will be a great bonus for her.

  “Thanks, Henry, I’ll do that,” I say, standing up and putting my coffee cup on the low table. “As always, you’re right. This would be perfect for my mom, and Lucas too. Thank you for keeping me in mind.”

  Henry waves through his office window at me, watching as I clamber into my truck. I’ve always been fond of him. When I came back, he was more than happy to accept one of his former students as part of his teaching staff. He must be used to people wandering off from Cowichan Bay, and then drifting back again. I wonder if he’ll stay when he retires? I know he intends on doing some traveling with his wife, Betsy. Nah, I doubt he’ll never leave his home town for good. I’m sure all wanderers return home again, like boomerangs.

  Chapter 4

  The Love of my Childhood

  I like to be punctual and arrive at the school a few minutes early. It appears that the principal is otherwise engaged. This annoys me a little because if I can schedule the meeting, why can’t he?

  I wonder who the principal of my old school is these days? His secretary makes me a strong coffee so I suppose I can forgive him. How times have changed. Many years ago I sat in this office as a youth awaiting punishment for some wrongdoing. It is rather odd to be back in my old high school. I'm only here because I was advised this was the best place to start my search for a local private tutor.

  “You can go in now, Mr. Gagnon,” the secretary calls over to me, breaking my thoughts.

  Entering the Principal’s office, I’m greeted with a familiar face. I don’t know who’s more shocked, my old principal or me.

  “Andrew!” He says, holding out his hand to shake mine. “I thought when I heard Agnes say your name that it sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. Now it all makes sense. Come on in and sit down. We have a few minutes before your candidate arrives.”

  “Henry Ainsworth, I can’t believe you’re still here,” I say, accepting his warm handshake. I’m quite pleased to see it’s the same principal, but he's aged a lot since my days at school. “You are a glutton for punishment, lasting it out all these years.”

  “I’m about to retire but, even so, I’ll miss this place once I do,” he smiles back at me, guiding me towards a circle of easy chairs.

  “You said you had a candidate?” I ask, shocked at this as I didn’t want him to find me the tutor, only to advise me where I start.

  “Yes, yes, I have. She’s perfect for you. It so happens she’s become available at the same time that you’re looking. At first, I thought it was a good coincidence. Now, I can see that it’s fate.”

  “I want someone very reliable, Henry," I tell him. "And, not anyone who’s inexperienced.” I'm not sure I like how he’s gone about it but if she's as good as he says she is, she might do, for now. “It’s vital that I have the right person. My daughter is very fragile at
the moment, she's recently lost her mother.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that, Andrew,” he says to me with genuine concern in his eyes.

  I always liked this guy. He’s a natural with people and I decide I'll put my trust in him. After all, it’ll save me having a ton of interviews.

  “So, what’s the name of the candidate?” I ask as there’s a knock on the door before he answers me.

  “Ah, here she is, right on time,” Henry smiles, getting up from his seat and walking towards the door.

  As he opens it, I see yet another familiar face. Well, I'll be damned! The shock of who's standing in the doorway, shaking the hand of the principal, is quite unnerving. There she is, standing right before me. The girl I loved all those years ago. The girl I never forgot in my heart.

  “Chrissy!” I manage to croak out and stand up to greet her. “I had no idea you were back.”

  “Wow, Drew? Me neither,” she says looking as flustered as I am. “I mean, I didn’t know you were back.”

  “I apologize to the both of you,” Henry says, closing the door. “I hadn’t realized this turn of events. You spoke to my secretary’s assistant when you called, who couldn’t quite remember your name. All she could tell us was that it was a “funny” name.”

  I’m a little nonplussed at what's happened. It's not how I like to do business, not knowing who I'm meeting. Then again, this isn't a business meeting.

  “I can speak very highly of Chrissy,” Henry begins. “She’s given years of her expertise to this school and comes highly recommended by many.”

  “Do you speak French?” I asked, moving straight into interview mode. I’m quite glad to do this as I don’t want a conversation reminiscing on old times. Those times are gone and done with. I can’t be doing with sitting here wasting my time evoking old memories.

  “No,” she replies. “I hadn’t realized that was a requirement.”

  “My four-year-old daughter is French, though she does speak a little English. It's more written English I’m wanting her tutored with. I'm not sure how you’ll communicate without speaking the language. I can't see how this will work.”

  “May I add? If you’re wanting your daughter to speak more English, she’s better without someone who won't slip into her own tongue,” Chrissy replies.

  “Hmm, I can see the relevance in that but are you experienced with young children? You see, as much I know you from the past, I can’t give favors when it comes to my daughter’s education. I must have the best” I say, perhaps a little demanding but I have no patience for dilly-dallying.

  “I’ve brought my portfolio so you can see what I’ve done over the years,” Chrissy says, realizing I’m in no mood for anything other than the interview. “It seems neither of us was well prepared as I only found out about the position yesterday. I'm more than adequately trained to teach a four-year-old. But, please, read it and then get in touch with me if you wish to further interview me. Does that sound fair?”

  She stands up and holds out her delicate hand towards me. I've kissed those hands many times and a spark of desire shudders through me.

  “It was good seeing you, Drew," she says. "We can catch up some other time.”

  I accept her hand and feel a thud in my heart as our skin touches. It forces me to pull away from her in a brash manner.

  “Forgive me,” I say. “I’m a busy man and it’s imperative that my private tutor is well educated on many topics. Thank you for the portfolio. I’ll give it some consideration.”

  She says no more and leaves the room. Okay, was it my imagination or was my old school acquaintance annoyed with me?

  Henry follows her out and returns to speak with me.

  “I doubt you can find better than Chrissy,” he tells me. “She’s a natural when it comes to teaching the young.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather she stayed on in the school then?” I ask. “It’s not that I’m disagreeing with your judgment, but it might be best if the tutor wasn’t someone I knew.”

  “Of course, it’s your decision, Andrew,” he replies, his tone softening. “Given what you have told me about what's happened, you couldn’t get better than Chrissy for the job. And I mean that on the most professional level.”

  “I’ll treat her portfolio the same as any others I’m given,” I tell him. “Can you direct me to any more candidates?”

  “There are local professional agencies if you want to go down that line,” he said. “It could take you months to find a suitable candidate but you're not in a hurry that's not a problem. I can relay the vacancy around the schools, among the relevant people, if you wish.”

  “No, no, I see your point,” I reply. “I want someone for an immediate start. I tell you what, Henry. I’ll trust your judgment and I’ll have a look at this portfolio. Have your candidate come and meet my daughter and housekeeper and we can take it from there.”

  “It wasn’t my intention to be your broker, but given that my confidence in Miss Campbell, I will indeed arrange for her to contact you."

  “She kept her dad’s name then?” I say out loud, without thinking.

  “If you mean did she marry, no she didn’t,” Henry replies, though I hadn’t realized that he'd heard me.

  With that, we shake hands and I leave. Have I done the right thing? Do I want old memories stirring up past emotions? Not really, but what I do want is a good tutor for my daughter, more than anything else. If Chrissy is as good as Henry says she is, then I’ll make it clear the past is to stay there. I want nothing but professionalism in her role as a private tutor for my daughter.

  Chapter 5

  A Stolen Kiss

  It’s a beautiful evening and the clear sky is dotted with twinkling stars. A full moon hangs high providing plenty of light. If anything, it's a little chilly, but I’ve cycled to the harbor to help clear my head, so I've warmed up. Meeting my childhood sweetheart today was a bit of a shock. It rekindled feelings I thought long gone. Now, I've discovered they only lay dormant, waiting to be revived.

  The harbor area is clear of hustling people, as I expect at this time of night. So, I'm seated on my favorite spot, my thinking bench. The one I used to sit on as I watched my dad arriving home from his fishing trips. The lights of the moored boats reflect on the calm waters of the bay. The ocean shimmers and dances as small waves lap at their hulls. There's a huge trawler stopped overnight, probably on its way to Vancouver. Everything about this bay is my dad, that's why I’m glad we came back.

  The fact that Drew has returned too is a bit of mystery. His parents moved out years ago and their apartment is often rented out. Kevin, the concierge of the building, is an old friend of my mom's. He usually keeps us updated on the comings and goings in the penthouse that I used to consider my home. Drew can’t have been back long otherwise Kevin would have said something.

  Henry mentioned that Drew had recently lost his wife. That can't have been easy for the family. I do feel sorry for him, I know what it’s like to lose someone close to you. My sadness is for his child too. Poor kid. All she has left is her dad, who seems to have turned into a serious character. He's no longer the happy go lucky boy I used to know. Instead, he's a rather stern adult. Drew was always a deep soul, but never unkind. Today I thought he behaved a little offhanded with me.

  I see something in the corner of my eye and realize that someone else is about to sit on my bench. For a fleeting moment, I'm a little annoyed. I like to sit on this bench alone, it's why I come here at night. Feeling uneasy, I turn to look at who's invading my private space, and there I see Drew. He hasn't noticed it's me on the bench. I don't even think he's noticed the bench is not empty.

  “Well, this is a coincidence, for sure,” I decide to speak up, though he’s not looking at me, he’s looking out to sea.

  “Oh, Chrissy!" He says in genuine shock. "Sorry, I didn’t even notice someone else was sitting here.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell him as he looks as if he’s about to leave. “Please, I promise I
won’t bite. Anyway, it’s good to see you.”

  “You too,” he replies with a slight tremor to his voice. “I like to come and sit here to think,” he tells me.

  “Yeah, me too,” I smile back at him. “Who’d have thought we’re both thinking at separate times, on the same bench?’

  “This is the best spot in the whole of Cowichan Bay. I’m so lucky I live close by,” he says. “What about you? Do you live near here?”

  “I cycle down here quite a lot. I’m a bit further away than you are, so I suppose you get dibs,” I laugh.

  He seems to visibly relax and we manage to chat about nothing in particular. There are pauses but we’re both comfortable with them. Then, a raindrop tickles my arm.

  “Mom was right,” I say. “She warned me it would rain. I’m gonna get soaked. Think I’ll take refuge in the old shelter and see if it passes. Would you like to keep me company? It’s still there you know?”

  The shelter was old when we used to hang out there as kids. Now it seemed ancient. It was situated in a local park not far from the bay. Though, I was surprised when he agreed to come. We'd started at a leisurely pace and ended up running as the downpour got heavier.

  “I can’t believe this place is still standing,” he smiles as his eyes wander around the inside of the darkened shelter.

  I realize it’s the first smile I’ve seen from him. He doesn’t seem his old self anymore, but how could he be, he’s all grown up now.

  “Yeah. You can’t see it so well at night but it’s covered in graffiti. It’s the artistic kind of graffiti so they left it alone. Somehow, it's still standing.”

  “Well at least we’ll stay dry in here,” he says.

  “I’m glad I’ve bumped into you," I say. "Henry said I should arrange to meet your daughter.”

  I decided not to reminisce but to keep the conversation practical.

  “Is that the only reason you're happy to see me,” he asks, making me feel a little uncomfortable.