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“But he is sending you a check, right?”
“That’s what he said. And don’t worry, I’ll pay you for half of the rent.”
He waves me off. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Uh, yeah. I do. And if you want me to, I’ll look for something else.”
He shakes his head slowly. “I don’t mind if you stay. As long as you share your food.”
“I thought you said you have a personal chef.”
“Yeah, she’s starting next week. She was on vacation this week. But you buy the good snacks. I’ll have to spend more time at the gym, but that’s okay. I have time.”
“So, you’re fine with me living here as long as I buy snacks?”
He shrugs. “Sure.”
“Okay. Deal.” I offer my hand to shake. He eyes it for a second and then folds his warm hand over mine. I feel a jolt.
Like, a physical shot of electricity the way it’s described in romance novels.
His blue eyes narrow.
I feel mine widen.
“Okay, then.” I pull my hand away and feel the loss. “I’d better get ready and get to the school—meet my boss, see my classroom. I hope you have a good day.”
I pick up my leftover burrito and hurry inside. I fling the blanket on the bed, then quickly stow away my breakfast in the kitchen.
I hear Zane closing himself in his bedroom and rush back into mine, shutting the door.
Then I let out a long sigh.
All of the hype about how sexy Zane Cooper is isn’t overblown. I can attest to that.
But he’s my roommate. Maybe, eventually, he’ll be my friend.
And the sooner I realize that that’s it, the better. Because men like Zane Cooper don’t have feelings for girls like me. It’s just humiliation waiting to happen. He’s being nice. He might like me, but that’s all it will ever be.
* * * *
“This is your classroom.” Winnie Winstead, the principal, flips on the lights and steps back so I can walk inside.
I immediately feel my heart sink.
It’s an old building. The industrial carpet is worn. The small desks have all seen better days.
Not to mention, it’s small and bare-bones.
“No books, no supplies?” I ask her. “Crayons and such?”
“It’s just not in our budget,” she says with an apologetic shrug. “We ask each student to bring a list of things. Most of them do.”
But some don’t. Because they can’t afford to.
“Could you please send me the list that goes out to the parents?” I ask her.
“Of course. I’ll do that as soon as I’m back at my desk. Feel free to do pretty much whatever you like in here. Anything will be an improvement. Welcome, Miss Stansfield. We’re lucky to have you.”
She smiles, and then I hear the click of her heels as she walks down the empty hallway back to her office.
I had hoped my room would be nicer. When I did some research on the elementary school, I discovered that part of it had been updated just two years ago.
Obviously, my room wasn’t part of that remodel.
I sigh and turn a slow circle, taking it all in.
The windows are clean and give me a nice view of the courtyard at the center of the school. The big whiteboards look new, which is nice.
I take my bag over to my new desk, sit in the chair, and almost sink to the floor.
Looks like my desk chair is broken.
“I guess I know where the rest of my savings is going,” I mumble to myself. I need more supplies than I realized. And a new chair.
I can request one, but that could take weeks. Maybe months.
If I absolutely have to, I can bust out my credit card, but I worked really hard to keep that baby at a zero balance.
I blow out a breath and then get to work.
An hour later, I have lists of what I need to buy, and the desks and chairs organized the way I like them.
Tomorrow, students and their parents can come by to meet me and to see their desks. And then the following day is the first day of school.
I’m not nervous. I thought I would be, but I’m not. I’m excited. I’m looking forward to getting the year underway. Meeting my kids and finally settling into a routine.
But first, I have a lot to do by tomorrow.
I want the room put together before the kids come in to meet me. So, I snatch up my purse and lists and go shopping.
* * * *
“I’m in and out,” I say, out of breath as I hurry into the condo a few hours later. “I just have to grab some things, and then I’m headed to the school.”
I run to my walk-in closet and grab the big tote bin I brought with me from Arizona. It has all of my favorite wall hangings for the classroom.
