Chapter 11

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

ALEXANDER

We walk down the hall toward the administration area I entered last week when I met with Mr. Davis. Julian was right, and if I wanted to see Dani, it needed to be in a meaningful way. She isn’t some basic girl that will be swayed by flowers and a nice dinner. She has more substance than that. Dani has a purpose. When I learned she taught in a low-income school, I knew exactly what I needed to do.

The Reapers do a good bit of community outreach. We often focus on kids or areas that our players are passionate about. One player, Josh Harley, supports free mammograms for the community every year in honor of his mother, who died from breast cancer. The Reapers stand beside him, matching his financial donation and providing hands to help at the event. We pay for the advertising to get the word out, too. We support the community and our players. Their cause is our cause.

When I said I wanted the Reapers to sponsor a school, it wasn’t out of character for our brand. The fact that I was specific about the sc hool and arranged it myself may have been a little suspect. I asked Nikki, our Community Outreach Director, to accompany me to meet with Mr. Davis, but I made it clear that I wanted to take the lead on this.

I asked what the students needed, and he rattled off the usual paper, pencils, and backpacks list. I wanted to know what the teachers needed, and he casually mentioned how they have classroom prep days that include manual labor. That I could provide. And all the other stuff. The Reapers are providing lots of supplies for the students and teachers today. We have full trucks to unload.

The guys were more than happy to skip the usual workouts for the outreach day. The coaches weren’t thrilled with me, but I pulled rank. We’re calling it a team-building day. I made sure the entire Reaper payroll is here. The front office, coaching staff, players, and stadium crew. I saw a mixture of disbelief as they looked at the state of the school when we pulled up, but when they got their assignments before the school staff showed up, their smiles said it all. They’re happy to be here.

This school is in an underdeveloped neighborhood. The landscaping needs a little TLC, and our grounds crew are working on that this morning. The playground was a broken mess, so that’s where I sent the trainers. The new playground equipment is being assembled now, and my guys will make sure it’s safe. These kids may not come from much, but this neighborhood deserves a school they can be proud of.

The Reapers Foundation is funding this day, except for one room. This room is mine. I made sure Darcy understood the assignment. Make it a reflection of Dani. Sky’s the limit. I sent Darcy a few pictures last week when Mr. Davis showed me around. I asked to see Jenny and Dani’s rooms, specifically, to understand what we needed. I figured asking about two teachers would shift suspicion and motivation. Not sure it worked, but I don’t care. Jenny’s room is getting a total makeover too. Have to take care of the best friend. Everyone knows that .

I fire off a quick text to ensure Dani is getting a new desk. That rusty box is a tetanus shot waiting to happen. Darcy sends me a picture of the new desk that’s in a truck. She’s waiting for us to leave to get everything moved in.

Then Darcy sent me the shopping list she promised. She tells me Dani’s students have food insecurity. Get lots of food. Snacks. Canned goods to send home. Grocery gift cards. Darcy says Dani tries to provide snacks in case they don’t get dinner.

Fuck. These kids don’t have food? That shouldn’t be happening anywhere. But Dani takes care of them.

We pass two players carrying boxes toward a classroom.

“Boss,” Harley says as he passes us. He gives me a nod and winks after glancing at Dani.

“So you just snap your fingers, and they do what you want?” she asks.

I give her a small smile. “Not exactly.” She gives me a questioning look. “Well, sometimes.” Guilty as charged.

“Hey, do you mind waiting here for a minute? I need to see Mr. Davis about something.”

“Sure, no problem. I’ll keep watching these players work.” A few more guys come down the hall carrying rolled-up rugs. She watches them pass, checking out their asses.

I give her a loud sigh and a slight shake of my head, letting her know I saw what she was doing. Deep down, I’d like her to look at me like that, but I need to have a quick conversation with the principal about building a food pantry somewhere in the school for the neighborhood. We’ll provide the food. He’ll provide the place. With those details worked out, I shoot another text to Darcy asking her to make it happen. She tells me she’ll have her contractor friend, Jay, come up from Charleston and build it out this weekend.

I meet Dani back in the hall where she’s leaning against the wall, looking down at her phone. She’s so damn cute in her overalls today. I want to tug her by the bib and pull her close. That hint of skin underneath teases my fingers to reach out and skim her smooth w aist. But I won’t touch her. She’s already had one man touch her without her permission. I won’t add to that.

She’s taken her bandana off and pulled her hair into a ponytail, leaving a few errant curls to frame her face. I’m desperate to wrap one of those curls around my finger. Her hair looks so soft I’m dying to touch it. Down, boy. Don’t be that guy.

I clear my throat to get her attention. She looks up, but her smile is gone.

“Everything alright?”

“Um, yeah. It’s Tyler. He’s not feeling well.”

“Do you need to go home and take care of him?” Her kid comes first. Always. My mom always put us first, and I know that’s rule number one for Dani, too.

“No, he’s fine. He’s with Mom and Dad. I hate that he’s missing one of his last days of summer before he starts school. Poor guy.”

“Do we need to go by their house so you can check on him?”

“No, he’ll be okay in a few hours. Come on. I can’t wait to pop your Costco cherry. They’re going to know you’re a virgin before you even grab the oversized cart.” She rubs her hands together.

“You look like a villain watching their plan come together. Just missing that twirl of a mustache to finish the look.” When she looks at me like that and talks about popping my cherry, a rush of heat goes up my neck to my cheeks. Is this girl making me blush?

She looks at me, throws her head back, and laughs. Her laugher mixes with the other sounds of happiness throughout the school. It’s a good day. I try to relax into that.

She wraps her arm around mine and tugs me toward the front doors. I guess I’m about to see what makes her so maniacal about Costco.

Holy Hell. This place is huge. And everything they sell is enormous. Who needs that much salsa in one container? She’s right. This place is getting the best of me. The chaos of it all. Is there any organization or method to what’s next to what? Pants are next to books which are next to TVs which are next to watermelons. What is this place?We push oversized carts through the aisles. Everything she stops to look at, considers, and puts back, goes in my cart. We’re stocking her room with snacks for the kids. Prizes for her treasure box are all food related too. We get lots of protein bars, and I make a mental note to reach out to our suppliers to deliver to the school on the same schedule they deliver to the stadium.

“I told you, get what you want. Be extravagant. The kids deserve it.” I wouldn’t have made it this long in here if it weren’t for her childlike wonder over a pack of special edition crayons and her lament of the discontinued crayon that didn’t even make it thirty years. I got her ten boxes of the special crayons because it contained cornsilk, which, according to her, is the second best yellow.

She looks in her cart. “But this is going to cost a fortune.”

“Not your problem, sunshine. Get anything you want. We’re going to make sure these kids love coming to school, even if we have to bribe them with candy.” I take a box of full-size candy bars and throw them in my cart. I reconsider and throw in four more boxes. Her eyes grow big when she focuses on my overfilled cart, compared to her conservative, half-empty cart. “Get to work.” I nudge her with my cart.

She shakes her head at me and starts down the next aisle.

“If you could have anything for your classroom, what would it be?”

I tried asking questions about her life, but didn’t make much progress. Jules was right. Direct isn’t the tactic here. She’s more than chatty about her job.

“Anything? ”

“Anything.” I figure she’ll say books or finger paints. Easy. I’ll fill her room with them.

“A class pet.”

“A pet?” I honestly wasn’t prepared for this answer. She’s always full of surprises.

“Yep. Like a guinea pig or a chinchilla or something. So many of the kids don't have pets, and studies have shown that having pets can be effective for emotional growth.” Chinchilla? I’ve never had a pet or even considered it. There’s enough stress caring for my family and friends and I can only imagine the mess a pet brings, too. “Are you a big animal lover? Do you have a pet at home?”

“I love animals. We never had a pet growing up. We moved often, and the Colonel thought it was hard enough to move a wife and child. I’ve thought about getting Tyler a dog, but I don’t think he’s ready to help take care of him. A classroom pet could come home with us on the weekends sometimes. So yeah. A class pet. But they’re expensive, and I’d rather spend money on food. We can’t have luxury items when we don’t have the basics, you know?”

I nod and listen. Damn, this woman is killing me with her kindness to others. How is she so optimistic when she sees the saddest part of society every day?

I swallow hard. “Yeah, makes sense. Hey, let’s finish this shopping. We’ve got a few more stops to make.”

“Oh, like where?”

It’s my turn to look like an evil villain. “You’ll see. Just get moving.”

We get to the checkout and they ask for a card. I hand the cashier my black AmEx, and she rolls her eyes at me and sighs.

“First time?” she asks me. I’m confused, and before I can answer, Dani is next to me, knocking me with her shoulder, trying to push me out of the way. Does she think I’m going to let her pay? I’m questioning her sanity.

“He’s a virgin,” Dani says, hiding her mouth with her hand. Virgin? Not hardly, sunshine. What the hell are they talking about?

The cashier looks at our carts and gives a little whistle. “He’s a big one, isn’t he?” What the fuck?

“The biggest,” Dani says with a giggle. She’s got my normally can’t-be-rattled mind running in overdrive. I put my hands through my hair and tug. I’m literally pulling my hair out here.

“Got a card?” She looks at Dani like they know something I don’t. Apparently, they do, because Dani whips something out of her purse and hands it to the cashier.

“What are you doing?” I grumble. My frustration level is growing, the enjoyment I felt while watching her shop, a long-forgotten memory. She’s killing me here.

“Showing her my membership card,” she says casually, like I should have known.

“Your membership card?” What is she a member of?

“Yeah, silly. You think just anyone can shop here and get these bargains. You have to be a member. Duh.”

“Did you just say duh at me?” Something about the way she put her hand on her hip and rolled her eyes at me, flips a switch and now I’m chuckling at her. She’s making me have more mood swings than a hormonal teenager. She hip checks me, and I playfully push her aside. I freeze when I realize what I did, and panic fills my chest. She wraps her arms around my bicep and squeezes. When I realize I didn’t hurt her, I relax.

I watch her eyes grow wide as the total climbs. When it hit four digits, she insists we put things back. She tries to let go of my arm to reach for things on the conveyor belt, and I put my hand over hers. I’m all for consent and would never force myself or desires on her, but in this scenario, I absolutely will not listen or comply. She won’t get her way when it comes to me spending money on her or her class.

“It’s too much,” she repeats for the tenth time.

“It’s not. It’s for the kids. Share it with Jenny if it makes you feel better. ” Little does she know Jenny’s room is equally stocked.

It took three employees to ring up and box our purchases. I’m ready to leave this place and never return.

“Let’s get out of here. We aren’t done with our errands.”

“No.” She stops pushing her cart and refuses to move, her arms crossed over her chest. I’ll need to add stubbornness to her list of qualities.

I can’t help but smirk at her. She thinks she has the upper hand with me? I stop and glare at her. “I’ve already paid for this, and it’s not going back.” Fine. She wants a showdown? I’ll give her one.

“Nah, I let you win this round. But we aren’t leaving until I buy you a hot dog.” She let me win? Interesting perspective.

“I have a catered lunch back at the school.” I try to reason with her.

“Nope. Over here. I’m not leaving until this happens.”

“What’s so magical about this hot dog?”

“Did you know Costco sells more hot dogs a year than all MLB ballparks combined?”

“What kind of Wikipedia bullshit is that?” If I know one thing, it’s the numbers around my ballpark. We sell over nine thousand hot dogs a game. There’s no way this warehouse store sells more.

She continues like she didn’t even hear me. “And the hot dog combo is still a dollar-fifty. Hasn’t gone up since the eighties. It’s a cultural phenomenon. And to top off your Costco deflowering, I insist.” She puts her hand out, inviting me to join her. I put my hand in hers because I will accept any invitation she extends.

“Can you not talk about deflowering in public?” I mumble. She drags my unwilling body to a food stand, and we order a hot dog combo. I reach for my wallet, and she slaps my hand, the pop loud and clear.

“My treat. Let me enjoy this. Please?” She looks at me with those pleading, beautiful eyes, and I realize at that moment, there’s no thing I wouldn’t give this woman. Including letting her pay for my hot dog.

“Fine. Why didn’t you get one?”

“No way. I’m saving room for the catered lunch.” Her laughter echoes in the cavernous room, and my life’s mission is to hear that sound as often as possible. I swear my chest practically explodes at the sound. She’s so damn happy and excited about everything. I’m fascinated, and my need to know more about her is insatiable. How does she do it?

We fill the back of the G Wagon with the snacks and candy we bought. It looks like the supply closet for one of our concession stands.

I open the door for Dani and make sure she’s buckled up. I start the car and blast the air conditioner. August in Charlotte is sweltering.

“Hey, I’m going to step out to make a quick call. Why don’t you see if Tyler is feeling better? Maybe we can pick him up and take him to see your new classroom? That is, if you want him to. Your call, of course.” When it comes to him, I’ve learned my lesson to always defer to her. I’m the first to admit I know nothing about parenting.

“I don’t want you to go out of your way or anything.”

“Not out of the way at all. Today is about you and your kids. That includes Tyler. He’s a cute kid. Check on him, and I’ll be right back.” I give her a smile and close the driver’s door.

“Hey, boss.”

“Darcy, not you too,” I groan.

She giggles. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. Calling for a status update?”

“Yep.” She flips our call to FaceTime and shows me around the room.

“It looks great. You’re magical.” The room is bright and cheerful, a far cry from the drab place we left a few hours ago.

“Well, if their baseball careers end, they’ll need to find a different backup plan. They are the messiest painters I’ve ever worked with. But they got the job done.” Her smile fills the screen.

Yeah, I hate I didn’t get to watch Tripp do manual labor. He’s the most pampered guy I’ve ever met. “I hope the paint didn’t mess up Tripp’s manicure.”

“Hey, I heard that, you bastard.” Darcy pans to Tripp, hanging white, gauzy curtains that look like clouds against the bright yellow walls. His shirt looks like he got into a fight with a paintball gun and lost.

“Everything looks great. She’s going to love it. We’ll be back in a few more hours. Is that enough time?”

“Yep. The other rooms weren’t as labor intensive, so the crew tackled our two special rooms. Both are almost finished.”

Nikki’s face fills the screen next to Darcy. “And the playground is installed. The landscaping looks great, and it’s relatively childproof. They are setting up the lunch for the teachers in the cafeteria shortly. You think you’ll be back for that?”

“Maybe. Hey, you think there’s a space for one other thing in her room?”

Nothing like throwing a wrench in Darcy’s design. Seems I’ll be apologizing again.