He raised one dark, thick eyebrow, and before she could get any bitchier, she handed him a Dr. Seuss book from her personal collection—like most of the books currently occupying the classroom—then retreated to where she’d stationed herself before. Last time, the purpose had been so the children would pay attention to Rob and not to her, but Alaina had quickly discovered the position was also an excellent vantage point to check him out as he read the book.
He wasn’t overly tall, which as a hockey player she’d expected him to be, but he certainly wasn’t thin. And not an ounce of fat on the man that she could discern. No, he was all muscle. His dark brown hair was cut into one of those styles that was longer in the front and spiked, and his face, though far from perfect, somehow managed to magnetize her attention. The man’s eyes practically oozed sex, even when the topic was surely the farthest thing from his mind.
She could discern no way a pair of jeans purchased in a store would fit those tree-trunk thighs, and unwittingly, her gaze rose to the bulge above them before skittering away. Alaina’s cheeks burned, but hopefully Rob was too busy to notice her embarrassment and wonder what caused it. His jersey hid the fact the Polo shirt he’d been clad in upon arrival stretched tight over his barrel chest and biceps.
As he spoke, she followed the movement of his lips. I wonder exactly what those lips can do. Shaking her head, she berated herself. Focus. He is not here to be your weekly man candy fix. Alaina smirked. Though he certainly did the job admirably.
Rob was using sound effects and different voices as he read, and the kids were eating up his antics, especially the little “Canadianisms” he threw in every now and then. Alaina was woman enough to admit her surprise that a big-time professional athlete was willing to look silly to bring a smile to a little face. The realization pleased her enormously, which further annoyed her.
When he was finished, he answered a few questions, always giving the students a good reply, but keeping on topic and refraining from making any inflammatory statements. Apparently he’d taken her warning last time to heart.
You’re running out of reasons to dislike this guy, chica.
As the time neared for the kids to get on the bus, she ended the session and led Rob out. Once in the hallway, he shifted from foot to foot, clearing his throat and not meeting her gaze, but also not saying his good-byes and skedaddling. Sensing that was unusual behavior for him, her eyebrows drew down. Was he already sick of the kids and ready to “flake out on her” as Kyle had assumed?
Finally he spoke, his gaze focused somewhere over her head and his shoulders belaying tension. “What time are you finished here?”
She was so surprised by the question she blurted out, “I work half days, just in the morning, so I could be free in about an hour. Why?” What had him this nervous?
“Let me give you my cell number. I’d like to talk to you about something.”
Hmmm. Yeah, probably flaking out. “Uh, okay. I’ll go get a pen.”
She retrieved a piece of scrap paper and a pen then handed both to Rob. He put the paper against the wall and scrawled a number, but even though curiosity was killing her, Alaina didn’t have time to quiz him. She needed to get everybody ready to leave.
“Call me when you’re done and I’ll come back.”
Come back? She’d figured he’d been talking about a phone call. “Sure.”
What could possibly be on his mind? If he was planning to quit, he wouldn’t want to return to the school and talk face-to-face. That would be the hardest way to tell her, after all. So what was going on?
By the time she was able to call Rob, Alaina’s mind had run through about a million possibilities, from him quitting to asking her out. That last one had led her to bang her forehead on the desk to rid it of the ridiculous notion. Alaina didn’t want him to ask her out—or at least she didn’t want to want him to ask her out. But after watching him today…
She frowned. Rob’s world was stratospheres from hers. What could they possibly have in common? And why would he want some schlubby teacher anyway? Guys like him dated supermodel types, though she wasn’t sure how many of those girls resided in the Buffalo area.
Of course, he traveled all over the country for games, and she’d succumbed to a bit of research on her smartphone, which told her he’d played in Canada and in international tournaments the world over. Maybe he’d met some gorgeous girl elsewhere and was spending every spare minute in bed with the woman. If he dropped the program because he couldn’t stand to be away from some chick, Alaina would be pretty pissed.
She propped her elbows on her desk and put her head in her hands, pulling at her hair. Why was she even wondering about his sex life? Maybe because mine is nonexistent and I’m living vicariously.
What Alaina didn’t expect when Rob met her in the now-empty classroom was for him to reach into the pocket of his jeans and pull out a check. “I wanted to give this to you.”
Just like earlier, he wouldn’t meet her gaze, and so she gave up to look down at the check. Her name was in the “To” field, and her eyes widened. “Five thousand dollars?” The words were much louder than she’d intended, and when she went on, she lowered her voice. Until she knew what was going on, this was not a time to call attention to them. “Why in God’s name are you giving me a check for five thousand dollars?”
“For supplies and stuff for your classroom.” Rob glanced around, his gaze sweeping the entire room before finally resting on her. “I don’t understand any reason your students shouldn’t have the same opportunities as other kids just because of where they live.”
“Opportunities?” She couldn’t wrap her brain around what he was talking about. The words “five thousand dollars” had been running on a loop inside her head ever since she’d noticed the amount, and it was hard to concentrate on anything else.
“Yeah. They should have toys, art supplies, books.” He shrugged, his cheeks coloring. “Whatever they need. Just because this is an inner-city school doesn’t mean these kids are any less deserving of an enriching educational experience.”
He spoke as if he hadn’t made this decision on the spur of the moment, and as his words sunk in, tears sprang to her eyes. “So you’re giving me money,” she looked at the check again, noticing for the first time the slip of paper bore his name and presumably his home address, “from your own pocket, to buy things for my students?”
Alaina was aware the tone of her voice had moved beyond surprise and barreled right toward incredulous, but everything she thought she’d known about professional athletes and, in particular, this man, was being blown out of the water. If he’d really done this, just handing over his own money, and from what she could see, of his own volition, as the Storm didn’t appear to be involved, Rob was an entirely different person than she’d pegged him to be. A thread of guilt wound around her brain. Obviously she’d judged him prematurely, and now she felt like a bitch.
“Yes. Your students shouldn’t suffer because of their circumstances. And if the amount is not enough, tell me and I’ll give you more.”
“Not enough?” Her voice cracked on the last word. “Rob, this is…this is amazing. Truly.”
He shrugged again, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the praise.
After rising, she skirted her desk to stand in front of him. “Do you understand how much good this will do?”
Now Rob smiled, and Alaina noticed laugh lines around his eyes. Maybe she’d been right that he didn’t take life all that seriously, but this gesture showed another side to him—one she would have a hard time behaving professionally around. When she’d thought he was a playboy-athlete like so many others, it had been easy to dismiss him. But now…
As the enormity of what he’d done fully hit her, a tear escaped to roll down her cheek. Never before had someone seen the injustice her students endured and done something so quickly and yet with so little fanfare. He’d just handed over the check like it was no big deal. Unbelievable.
&n
bsp; Before she could process what was happening, Rob wiped at the wetness with the pad of his thumb. When their gazes collided, Rob’s swift intake of breath startled her. He pulled his hand away as if he’d been burned before turning and pacing away.
What the hell is that all about? No way does a guy like him think I’m hot.
Half turning back toward her, he said, “Anyway, I don’t want to keep you, but I couldn’t just hand over the check after my reading thing and run.”
“Okay.” Alaina approached him then reached a tentative hand to the shoulder nearest her. He was about a head taller than her, and when her hand met his flesh it was like touching granite. Rob was built like a tank, which she supposed was an advantage in the rough and tumble sport of hockey. She couldn’t help but feel safe in his presence.
“I don’t even have the words to express my appreciation. ‘Thank you’ is so inadequate.” Another tear escaped, and she quickly swiped at it. She’d probably freak Rob out if she turned into a waterworks right now.
He sighed and darted a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t thank me. I don’t want your thanks. I only did what anyone else would do.”
She knew that wasn’t true, but remained silent.
“And please don’t make a big deal out of the whole thing. I don’t want some reporter tracking me down thinking the check was a publicity stunt.”
“Whatever you want.” She squeezed his shoulder briefly before letting go.
Rob peeked at her one more time then started for the door like he was rushing from a burning building. “See you next week.”
“See you.” She returned to her desk and fell into the chair to stare at the check. This had to rank as one of the strangest days of her life. Alaina certainly wasn’t used to people recognizing the need for funds and actually coming through for her.
She carefully folded the check into an inside pocket of her purse then walked out to her beat-up Toyota Corolla. Her dad had gotten the car for her as a college graduation present, and it had been well-used even then. Now, six years later, the junk heap was held together with duct tape and a dream.
After Alaina got back to her shoebox-sized apartment and had fixed herself a sandwich, she opened her laptop and pulled up her favorite school supplies website. Biting her lip, she took in all the different categories of supplies. Where to start? She wanted a plan before cashing Rob’s check.
A thought invaded her consciousness. Oh, God. I can’t keep all the money for myself. What would the other teachers say? Since Rob had asked her to keep the generous gesture quiet, how would she explain where she’d gotten the money? She couldn’t, in good conscience, gorge on supplies for her classroom without sharing with the other staff. And no matter that Rob wanted to stay on the down-low, she had to tell her principal, Claudette.
Glancing at her cell, she debated calling Rob. Would he be angry if she asked to split the money with others? She wanted to respect his wishes, but the entire school had so much need. With the decision made, she called him, chewing on the end of her pen.
After a couple of rings, he picked up. “Hello?”
Dropping the pen, she asked, “Rob?” Where on earth was he? It sounded like he was surrounded by a crowd or something.
“Ms. Rossa?”
“Hi, yes, it’s me. But please call me Alaina outside of school. Do you have a minute?”
“Sure, hang on. Let me get away from these guys.” The shouts and other assorted noises in the background ceased abruptly. “Sorry about that. The guys are having a videogame tournament.” He laughed, but it sounded odd. “Boys will be boys, right?”
“If you say so.” She had no experience in that area, so she took his word for it.
“Anyway, what’s up?” he asked.
“I have a question.”
“Uh, okay. Shoot.”
She took a breath. “Would you mind if I shared the money with the other teachers at the school? I’d feel bad having my room outfitted to the nines and theirs still needing so much. Oh, and I forgot to mention, but I will have to tell my principal where the money came from.”
“Understandable about telling the principal. I hadn’t considered that, but of course you should give her a heads-up. I wouldn’t expect you to keep secrets from your boss. As far as the other thing, I gave you the money to do with as you please. If you’d like to give some to the other teachers, go ahead.” He paused then continued, “Though if you do that, the money won’t go nearly as far for all of you as it would’ve for one. Hmm. You’re going to need more.”
“Oh, no. God, no. I couldn’t—”
A derisive noise burst from him. “You didn’t. I offered. Never mind. I’ll bring you another check tomorrow.”
“No, really.”
“Yes, really. Five grand won’t be enough for what, seven classrooms?”
“Nine. The school has more than one fifth and sixth grade class.” Alaina was starting to feel dizzy at the sheer magnitude of what was happening. She’d have to call the school before Claudette left for the day.
“All the more reason.”
“Well, thank you. Again.”
“You’re welcome.”
An awkward silence ensued until finally Alaina said, “I guess I’ve got some shopping to do. I promise to use the money responsibly.”
Rob snorted. “There was not a shred of doubt in my mind that you would. I think you’re probably one of the most conscientious people I’ve ever met. See you tomorrow. I’ll drop by around the same time, if that’s okay. Practice will be over for the day by then.”
At the possibility of seeing him again so soon, a little fissure of excitement stole through her. It was a dangerous path to allow herself to go down. He was just being nice. “Yeah, of course. Whenever is good for you. I’ll wait. See ya.”
She started to set the phone next to her laptop then remembered she needed to call the school. The conversation with the principal took less time than Alaina had thought. Claudette was grateful, but took the news in stride, not asking many questions. She supposed the principal was operating on the “don’t look a gift horse in the mouth” premise. Soon Alaina was browsing websites looking for what she wanted to buy.
Five thousand dollars divided over nine classrooms—not accounting for whatever Rob was bringing her tomorrow—was five hundred fifty dollars. Even though she’d love some new tables and chairs, five hundred wouldn’t even put a dent in that requirement, so instead, she concentrated on smaller things she felt would do the most good given the kids’ needs.
Her students were, for the most part, from low- to middle-low-income families and many were already behind developmentally. She pulled up a Word document and typed a list of anything she thought might be useful. No doubt she’d find far more items than she had the funds for, but she had to start somewhere or she’d go crazy trying to make decisions. When she had a good list, Alaina decided to prioritize the items then go from there. A labor-intensive effort, to be sure, but since things like this happened once in a blue moon in a school like this, she needed to be careful and make sure the money was put to the best use.
After clicking on the “Sensory Development” section of the website, she picked out a set of eleven containers of paints, putting them on the list. She could pour the paints onto small paper plates and thus make them go further. As she moved through the first page, she noted other things, but it wasn’t until she hit on the set of two hundred crayons—twenty-five each of eight different colors—and a similar set of colored pencils that she stopped, chewing the inside of her cheek. Art supplies were definitely a huge need, but so many other items were as well. The kids already had crayons. Crappy, broken crayons, but crayons nonetheless.
For about twenty minutes she waffled over what to put and keep in her cart before finally sitting back. I can’t make these decisions by myself. I never thought having money to spend would be so stressful.
Alaina decided to call one of her friends from college who now taught at a M
ontessori school outside the city.
Becca answered the phone on the second ring. “Hey girl, what’s goin’ on?”
“I need your help.” Alaina quickly explained why then swore her friend to secrecy. No way would she disrespect Rob’s explicit wish that the donation not be made public.
Becca whistled. “Five grand? And he handed the check over like it was nothing.”
“He makes millions.”
“Of course, but still. Not exactly something you’d expect a guy to just do out of the blue, especially since you don’t know him very well. Are you sure he doesn’t have the hots for you?”
Alaina burst into laughter. “Do you really think he’d feel the need to issue a check for five thousand dollars in order to impart that information? Besides, I’ve got a pretty good notion I am not his type.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re going to make some guy very lucky when he’s smart enough to go after you. Okay, let’s spend the boy’s money.”
“Tell me what your kids use the most in your classroom.”
“Hmmm. Excellent question. Let me think…”
Alaina tapped her fingers on the edge of the table while she waited. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this excited, and she didn’t want to mess anything up.
“They love the art supplies. But what they really like is to march around the room, banging on their drums and such. We play with them pretty much every day, to all different kinds of music and songs. The kids dive for the instrument box every time I get it out.”
“March? Oh, that would be cute. Musical instruments. Hang on.” She found a set and added it to her list. “What else?”
“Stickers, though you’ve gotta be careful with those or they get everywhere.”
“I see shape stickers here. A crapload of them.”
“That’s good,” Becca said. “Get those. Nice and basic and the kids will learn something without even knowing. Perfect. You can use them as rewards, for crafts…”
“Oh! Line paper. God, we never have enough of that.” At times she’d been afraid she’d have to put the damn lines on the paper herself.
Underneath It All (Storm Series) Page 3