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British shook her head. “I usually meet with the girls at the old Southwood rec center after school. They come over and we work on projects. The only reason we’re here is that the storm last week blew a transformer and the sparks set off a fire in the building and a few of the homes. Two of the team members and their families are staying here, courtesy of Ramon and Kenzie.”
“I remember them from last year—” he nodded “—at the beauty pageant held here.”
“Yes, Miss Southwood.” British nodded, as well.
“I won’t even ask if you know about pageants, since you seem to hate makeup,” said Donovan with a laugh. He rose from his seat on the armchair.
British’s eyes roamed the seat of his pants. What was wrong with her? Her students were right in the other room, squealing over cookies while she sat in here mentally undressing this man.
“Why don’t you have your science group at the school?” Donovan clasped his hands behind his back and strolled over to the bay window.
Glad he couldn’t see her face, British frowned, hating to recall Cam and the monopolizing of the science department. “Let’s just say there’s already a group in there.”
“Schools usually pay for materials, right?” Donovan asked, half turning to face her.
Here comes the question that always throws people. British nodded.
“Does the school pay for your rec center activities?”
British shook her head and shrugged. “No. And yes, I am the one buying all the supplies.”
“On a teacher’s salary?” Donovan fully turned to face her. “It’s been a while since I went to school, but the last I checked, teachers didn’t work for the glorious salary.”
“My husband left me some money,” British explained. “Every dime I received has gone into the facility and the girls.”
“You have faith, don’t you?”
“Sometimes that’s all you have.”
Silence fell between them. Donovan stared at British. Finally, British rolled her eyes. “Well, I’d better go gather the girls up so they can get to work.”
Donovan crossed the room and reached British before she stepped out the French doors. “If there’s anything I can do, or anything you need, I want you to know you can come to me.”
“That’s mighty generous of you, Donovan,” said British. “But why?”
“Let’s just say my faith just may have been restored.”
* * *
Thankfully the girls were able to focus over the following twenty-four hours. On a few occasions Donovan found a reason to make himself seen whether it was to come into the library, where they plotted their ideas, or to run through the trail in the back—shirtless—when they practiced experiments. British couldn’t put the blame all on the girls for being easily distracted. She, too, lost track of time when she realized she could see through the window of the hotel gym and catch Donovan working out.
Knowing the STEM-Off was coming up, though, British was able to finally focus. To practice as many possible tasks the committee may give them, she shouted out different ideas for experiments in science, technology, engineering and math, and timed them. The girls brainstormed on what to build, including the list of things they’d need. They wanted to impress the judges, but also to truly learn something in the process.
For a few of the challenges some wanted to assemble a small-scale trampoline and show the parents of the Christmas Advisory Council how it was made. Natasha wanted to aim for a homemade vending machine. And Kathleen said she could build a coding game without using a computer. The afternoon had been so productive, British didn’t see the need for more brainstorming later. That worked out perfectly for the girls, who were eager to head out to enjoy the last days of the fall festival.
Since hell hadn’t frozen over, British continued to have her meals away from Magnolia Palace. No way she’d allow Jessilyn to cook for her. Even now, the eye daggers flew as British came down the stairs and crossed paths with the chef. Brushing off the icy stare, British twisted her hair into a bun and secured it at the top of her head. Before she made it to the front desk, she heard a high-pitched squeal of laughter from one of her girls, which echoed through the halls of the upscale boutique hotel. British headed toward the library to get the girls to settle down. She was surprised at what she found looking through the glass doors.
For a guy who’d wanted to be left alone for the week, Donovan Ravens had a funny way of showing it. British cocked her head to the side and folded her arms across the front of the lightweight sweater she’d worn in preparation for this evening’s temperature drop.
“So you think Quandriguez is a jerk to me because he likes me?” Stephanie asked Donovan.
Donovan leaned against the door frame of the sunroom with his back to the lake and took a deep breath. “I don’t really know the fellow to make that statement, so all I can tell you right now is that a lot of boys—and hear me out when I say ‘boys’—don’t know how to use their words to express how they feel.”
“Maybe he’s not being mean, or I’m reading it wrong. His older brother is deaf and his baby sister, too. Maybe he’s stressed.”
A dry chuckle escaped Donovan’s throat. “Never make an excuse for a boy or a man. Stress is never a reason to be mean.”
“Did you ever ignore a girl because you liked her?”
