Chapter 13

13

ALAINA

I t had been a couple of days since the festival. It was a relief to have it behind us, but I was kind of sad because it had been so much fun. I was already looking forward to the next festival. Apparently, there would be a winter carnival. The planning was already in the works.

After school, I went back to my classroom to tidy up. A few teachers meandered into my room. We were all talking about our plans for the rest of the semester. The air was buzzing with excitement as we exchanged ideas and shared our students' progress. Everyone was offering advice on some of the difficult cases.

"So, I was thinking, we could have the kids create their own art pieces for the winter carnival," the art teacher said. "Maybe even auction them off to raise some funds."

"That's a great idea," I replied, nodding enthusiastically. "The kids would love that, and it would give them a chance to showcase their creativity. You know the parents are going to pay good money for their kids' art."

Just then, Trudy, our principal, walked in with her usual air of efficiency and a warm smile. "Alaina, could I talk to you for a moment?"

"Sure," I said, excusing myself from the group. As I followed Trudy into her office, I couldn't help but wonder what this was about. I was still a little confused about her comments about Roan being handsome. I hoped I wasn't about to get in trouble for something. Maybe she saw me walking around with Roan and was going to scold me for fraternizing with a parent. By the time we got to her office, I had worked myself up into a real tizzy.

Trudy was great—always supportive and encouraging—but she rarely called me in for one-on-one meetings. This had to be something big.

"Have a seat." Trudy gestured to the chair that students in trouble sat in. It didn't make me feel any better.

I put my hands together, twisting them and seriously stressing myself out.

Trudy got straight to the point. "I've got some exciting news," she said.

I let out the breath I had been holding. It didn't sound like I was in trouble. "Oh?" I asked.

"Our charter, specifically your students, have been invited to attend a robotics convention in Florida this December."

My eyes widened with excitement. "That's amazing! The kids will be thrilled. This is such a fantastic opportunity for them."

Trudy nodded, but her expression turned serious. "It is, but there's a catch. The school doesn't have a budget for this kind of trip. We need to find a way to fundraise the money for travel, accommodation, and the convention fees."

I bit my lip, thinking of ways we could raise some money. "That's a huge ask for the parents. We could try bake sales, car washes, maybe a crowdfunding campaign."

Trudy gave me a knowing look. "Those are all great ideas, but I was thinking we might need some bigger donors. Someone like Roan Lockhart, perhaps?"

I felt a flush of annoyance mixed with resignation. I knew where Trudy was going with this. "Trudy, I really don't want to beg Roan for money. Just because he's wealthy doesn't mean he should be our go-to ATM. That's not fair. It's inappropriate."

She smiled sympathetically. "I understand, Alaina. And I know you have your principles. But this could be an incredible opportunity for the kids. Maybe just have a conversation with him, see if he's interested in supporting the trip."

"Trudy, that is not right," I insisted.

Trudy held her hands up defensively. "I know, I know. You're right, Alaina. But this is such a big opportunity. I would hate for the kids to miss out on this chance because we can't raise the funds."

"There has to be another way." I sighed. "Can we get the flights donated? I don't want to put this all on Roan."

Trudy leaned back in her chair, folding her hands calmly on the desk. "I get it, Alaina," she said gently. "You have a point. But remember, I'm not asking you to exploit Roan. I'm just suggesting that you inform him about this opportunity because he might be interested in helping. As a parent. It's only right that he knows about the opportunity."

She was laying the guilt on. It was working. Those competitions were so much fun. It was an incredible opportunity for our students. That much was true. A trip like this could inspire them, open their eyes to new possibilities.

I had been to a few but as a watcher, not a contestant. I knew my students would love to go. And in the grand scheme of things, Roan was stupid rich. The money wouldn't be much to him.

I sighed, nodding. "I'll talk to him. But I'm not promising anything."

"That's all I ask," Trudy said, her smile returning. "Thank you, Alaina."

As I left Trudy's office, I couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort. The idea of asking Roan for money didn't sit well with me. I valued my independence and didn't want to be seen as someone who relied on others for financial support. But for the kids, I knew I had to at least try.

I didn't want Roan to think I was using the friendship we had. I had a feeling that was something he probably dealt with a lot in his life. People would always want something from him. I didn't want to be that person with my hand out. I didn't care what the cause was. It was humiliating.

On the walk home, my mind kept turning over the conversation with Trudy, playing out different scenarios of how to approach Roan about the trip. Perhaps I could make it seem less like a plea for charity and more of a business proposition. After all, if his name was attached to our school's trip, it could certainly boost his reputation as a community-minded benefactor. Still, the thought of approaching him left a sour taste in my mouth.

I got home that night, my mind still on the conversation with Trudy. I sat on my sofa, staring blankly at the opposite wall with Beau at my feet.

The dilemma weighed heavily on my conscience. On one hand, I wanted to respect Roan's privacy and not leverage our friendship for monetary gains. On the other hand, I had an obligation to my students to provide them with the best opportunities possible.

I picked up my phone, absently browsing through my contacts. My fingers hovered over Roan's name. To call or not to call? That was the question.

"I can't," I groaned and put the phone down.

I got up and went to the kitchen to make dinner for Cate and me.

As soon as she walked in, I could tell Cate was in a mood. She dropped her briefcase and walked straight to the fridge to pull out a bottle of wine. I watched her open it, pour a glass, and take a long drink.

"Bad day?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Is everything okay?"

She let out a frustrated sigh. "No, not really. I had an account go completely awry at work today. It was a marketing pitch I've been working on for weeks, and the client just pulled out. I am so pissed. I busted my ass and it's just gone."

"That sucks. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, it does," she muttered. "Your boyfriend is a real jerk."

"What? My boyfriend? I don't have a boyfriend."

She took another drink, not immediately answering me.

"Who was the client?" I asked.

"Roan Lockhart's company," she replied, her tone dripping with annoyance. "We were so close to sealing the deal, and then he just yanked it out from under us."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know," she muttered. "He's an asshole. I told you he's an asshole."

"How is he an asshole? Did he tell you why he pulled the deal?"

"No. I'm going to change."

I felt a pang of guilt. Cate had been working so hard, and now I was about to ask the same man for a favor. "Cate, I'm really sorry. That must be so frustrating."

"Yeah, it is," she said, her eyes narrowing. "And now I have to start from scratch with another client."

She walked out of the kitchen. I wondered what would make Roan do something like that. Cate had said the guy should not be trusted. Had I been blinded by the blue eyes and sexy smile? The Roan I knew was kind. Yes, he looked hard, but he was actually a pretty nice guy. He didn't strike me as a cutthroat businessman.

Cate returned wearing a pair of pink sweats and a matching hoodie. Even in her loungewear she looked very fashionable.

"How was your day?" she asked.

I hesitated, then decided to tell her about the robotics convention. "Actually, there's something I need to do, and it's related to Roan."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's that?"

I took a deep breath. "Trudy wants me to ask him to fund a trip for the kids to a robotics convention in Florida. We don't have the budget for it, and she thinks Roan might be willing to help."

She scoffed. "Fat chance. That man cannot be trusted to follow through with anything."

"I don't know what he's doing with your work, but I do know he's a good dad. He is committed to his son. The man you know is not the same man I know."

Cate shook her head, not convinced. "I don't know, Alaina. Business is business, and from what I've seen today, Roan can be ruthless when it comes to his company's interests. Are you sure you want to involve him in this? Men like him didn't get rich by giving away their money. They hold on to it with both hands."

I chewed on my lower lip, conflicted about what I should do. Cate was right—I had witnessed Roan's softer side, especially when it came to his son. But a business decision was a different matter altogether. Could I really ask him for help after what he had done to Cate's project?

"Maybe I can find another way to raise the money," I said. "I don't want to mix his personal and professional lives into our relationship."

"Your relationship?" she questioned. "What does that mean?"

"Not that kind of a relationship," I said. "I mean me being his son's teacher. And we did agree to be friends."

"Alaina, I don't know if this guy can be a friend," she said. "He presents himself as a professional and he'll promise you all kinds of things, but then he'll jerk it away. Is that really what you want? What if he promises to provide the money and the kids get excited and he jerks it back?"

"He wouldn't do that to his son."

"Maybe, maybe not." She shrugged. "Or maybe he provides enough to get his son there but not the other kids. If there's a competition involved, it will guarantee his son wins."

"Cate! No. He is not like that."

She gave me a look before taking another drink from her glass. "Isn't he?"

I couldn't shake off Cate's words as I cleaned up the dishes from dinner. Despite her warnings, a small spark of hope flickered in me that perhaps Roan could still come through for the kids. The memory of his kindness toward his son tugged at my heart, clouding my judgment. I knew I had to make a decision soon, for the sake of the students counting on me. This was an opportunity that wouldn't come around again.

That evening, after some internal debate, I decided to call Roan. I had his cell number from our previous communications, but I'd never used it.

I took a deep breath, dialed his number, and waited.