Rescue Me (7 page)

Knocking lightly on the door, Renee entered the classroom. “Hello, hello,” she said to the group of fourth graders and their teacher.

“Look who’s here,” Rashad said. “I hope everyone finished reading their stories this weekend.”

“I’m sure they did,” Renee said. “Students, get your backpacks and line up at the door. Make sure you bring your booklets to record your quiz scores.” She had to remind the older kids more often than the little ones.

“I’ll have them back to you before the end of the period, Mr. Richards.”

“Thank you, Ms. Moore,” Rashad answered. He winked, and Renee hoped he was sufficiently chastised with the look she shot him over the heads of the fourth graders. He knew better than to wink at her in class, and if he didn’t, she would tell him when she returned the students at the end of the class period.

“Have fun, class,” Rashad called out to his students. “Behave for Ms. Moore.”

“We will,” the students answered in unison.

“Behave for my students, Ms. Moore,” he said, winking again. Some of the students giggled.

“I will,” Renee answered through clenched teeth.

He was
so
going to hear about this.

Alex wiped the table with a damp cloth, scrubbing the splatter of blue paint that continued to spread with each pass of the washcloth.

“Oh, wait a minute, Mr. Holmes. I have a special cleaner that works better with this paint.” Mrs. Overland sprayed a pale green solution onto the table, plucked the towel from Alex’s fingers, and had the table looking brand new with a couple of swipes. “Art time is the kids’ favorite, but in all
honesty, I could do without it. There will be at least one accident, guaranteed.”

“At least they had fun,” Alex said.

“You’ll soon learn that more mess equals more fun with this group. They definitely keep me on my toes,” Mrs. Overland said with a good natured laugh.

Alex chuckled along with her. He’d had a good time today. The kids were attentive, and for the most part, well behaved. Although Alex quickly learned the little angels could turn into devils in an instant. When Mrs. Overland had to step out of the class to take an important phone call, the students had gone wild.

Alex was completely dumbfounded. On a construction site, dozens of men followed his orders without the least bit of resistance, but give him a roomful of six year olds and he lost all control. No matter how loud he bellowed, clapped his hands, or banged on the table, the little critters had paid him no mind whatsoever.

Yet when the soft spoken Mrs. Overland had returned to the room, the rowdy students had quieted immediately.

“You did really well,” Mrs. Overland complimented him. “Most parents would not have lasted the morning.”

“Thanks,” Alex answered. Even though he didn’t believe he’d done a good job, he appreciated her attempt to make him feel like less of a fool for being overrun by the little heathens. “It did become a bit overwhelming. I’m not sure how you handle them day in and day out. I have a hard enough time dealing with just one.”

“It’s not always easy managing all those little personalities, but it’s worth it when they come back years later as successful young men and women.”

“I’m convinced people are born to be teachers. Not everyone can do what you all do,” Alex said.

“Well, thank you, Mr. Holmes. Now, will I see you tomorrow?” she asked.

“Oh yeah, I’ll be back.”

“Good, because I think this is going to do a world of good for Jasmine.”

“Mr. Powell recommended I gradually back out of the picture. So I figure I’ll stick around full days for the next couple of weeks. Maybe start leaving after lunch the week after next, and the week after that I’ll come for just a couple of hours in the mornings.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan. She really is a sweet child, Mr. Holmes. I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but I am so very impressed with the way you are raising your daughter. I know it must be difficult.”

Alex shrugged, and simply answered, “She’s mine.”

The fact that people were so awed that he was raising Jasmine on his own continued to baffle him. Who else was going to raise his daughter? It was a double standard that irked Alex to no end. Millions of single mothers raised their children without praise. Hell, after his father died, his own mother had become a part of that group. Why did people feel the need to constantly pat him on the back for fulfilling his responsibility?

“The kids have another twenty minutes in music class, and then I’ll walk them to the bus loading zone. Is Jasmine riding home with you this afternoon?”

Alex shook his head. “When we talked about my helping out in her class, I explained that she would get no special treatment, which included being chauffeured to and from school. She’ll take the bus home just like all the other students.”

“Well, if you want to, you can leave. When they get back from music class they’ll only have time to pack up their backpacks and head out to the bus loading zone.”

“Is there anything you need me to do to help prepare for tomorrow?” Alex asked.

“No, I—oh, wait. Are you up to wrestling with the copy machine again? I want to start the morning with a few penmanship exercises.” Mrs. Overland shuffled through a few
papers on her desk. “Here they are. Eighteen copies of these.”

Alex tried to hide his unease behind a smile. “No problem,” he lied.

Alex headed back for the room that housed the copiers. Maybe those two teachers from this morning would be there to bail him out just in case he broke the machine. He’d break the copier on purpose to get the one with the Band Aid on her forehead to come to his rescue.

The admission blew his mind. Just the fact that he was still thinking about her shocked the hell out of him.

These days, Alex rarely allowed himself to give an attractive woman a second glance. It’s not that he didn’t notice them. He
was
human, after all, and one hundred percent hetero. He simply didn’t have the energy getting involved with a woman would require.

His lack of interest in the opposite sex had been a constant battle between Alex and his brothers, who were of the mind set that a life without sex was a life not worth living. They thought the fact that Alex had gone two years without getting any was more tragic than a Greek play. If they only knew just how long it
really
had been since he’d been with a woman, both Toby and Eli would drop dead.

His wife had been dead for two years, but the intimacy between them had died long before Chantal had perished in that car accident. Of course,
she
hadn’t gone all that long without sex. She’d probably had some in the backseat of the car before she’d cracked it up against that tree.

Alex wrapped up the thought and shoved it in that little compartment in his mind that held all his “bad wife” memories. He usually had more control over when he allowed those to surface. His mind must still be weak from dealing with all those first graders. That’s probably why the teacher with the Band Aid had gotten to him, too. Weariness had his defenses down.

Alex pushed through the door to the teachers’ lounge,
finding it more crowded than it was earlier today. Unfortunately, neither the pretty teacher with the deep brown eyes, nor her friend who had the ability to save him from another copying fiasco were among the room’s occupants.

Alex walked over to the last copy machine. He stared at the array of colorful buttons for a minute, trying to make sense of it all. Why did they have to make these things so complicated? His assistant, Jennie Marconi, handled all the copying at Holmes Construction. She would probably laugh her butt off to see him trying to work a Xerox machine.

He inserted the two worksheets into the automatic feeder on the top of the machine, punched in a one and an eight, and pressed the green start button. The copier quickly swallowed the originals and started spitting out collated copies, and Alex sent up a small prayer of thanks.

He retrieved the copies from the tray and made his way around the two circular tables. The door to the lounge opened and the pretty teacher with the Band Aid on her forehead walked through it, followed by a male teacher.

She stopped short. “Hi again,” she said.

“Hello,” Alex answered.

She gestured to the man standing next to her. “Rashad, this is … you know, I didn’t get your name this morning.”

“Alexander Holmes,” Alex provided.

“Rashad, this is Mr. Holmes.”

“Alex,” he corrected her.

“Alex,” she said, his name rolling slowly from her lips. Time stopped for a moment as their gazes locked. Her generous, full lips parted in a slight smile, revealing a dimple and accentuating high, delicate cheekbones. Her eyes softened just a bit around the edges and a quickness Alex hadn’t felt in years began to pump through his blood.

“Renee?” the guy standing next to her said.

“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. Alex, this is Rashad Richards,” she continued. “He teaches fourth grade here at St. Katherine’s. Rashad, Alex is volunteering in Mrs. Overland’s class, right?”

Alex nodded. “I didn’t get your full name this morning, either.”

“Sorry about that. It’s Renee Moore.”

“Ms. Moore.” Alex paused slightly, hoping she’d give him permission to call her Renee. When she didn’t, he continued. “The offer still stands to check out your house if you’d like.”

“You know about houses?” Richards asked.

“He owns a construction company,” Renee answered. “He offered to have some of his workers look over my aunt’s house and Penelope’s.”

“That’s pretty decent of you,” Richards put in. To Renee he said, “Let me grab my leftovers from the fridge, and then we can go.”

“Okay,” she answered Richards, and then turned back to Alex. She laid her pretty eyes on him and that heavy thumping thing started happening within Alex’s chest at an accelerated rate.

“You look like you came out on the losing end of a fight with a Smurf,” she said with a grin, pointing to his face.

Alex rubbed his cheek, hoping the paint wouldn’t spread as it had on the table. “There was an accident in art class,” he explained.

She just continued grinning. Her smile was mesmerizing.

“Here,” Renee said. She reached up and wiped his cheek.

Alex’s breathing stopped completely.

That answered one of the questions that had been floating around his brain since he’d first seen her this morning. Her warm brown skin really
was
soft as silk.

“That’s better,” she said, her fingers still lingering on his cheek. The air between them crackled and sizzled. There was something he should be doing, but for the life of him, Alex could not remember.

Oh, wait, breathing. Yeah. He should definitely breathe.

She removed her hand, but her eyes creased at the corners
and a sexy, secretive smile curled her delicately plumped lips.

“I’ve got my stuff.” Richards sidled up next to her.

“What’s that?” Renee asked, her eyes still on Alex.

Alex was the first to break eye contact. He glanced over at Richards, who was looking back and forth between Alex and Renee. After his assessment of the situation, Richards apparently felt the need to stake his territory. He draped his arm around Renee’s shoulder, and gave her a squeeze. Alex was convinced chest thumping and caveman grunts were next.

The guy could check that possessiveness crap at the door, because he didn’t have a thing to worry about where Alex was concerned. Renee Moore might be prettier than just about any woman he’d ever seen in his life, but Alex could not afford to be interested in her, despite his heart rate’s continued escalation every second she was near. With physical therapy, work, his online classes, and the added stress of having to deal with Jasmine’s behavioral problems, now more than ever, Alex didn’t have time to deal with the complications a woman would bring to his life.

“Let me talk to my aunt about the house,” Renee said. “It’s ultimately her decision what happens with it. I’m sure she’ll be grateful for whatever help you can provide, but I want to run it by her before men show up and start poking around.”

“Of course,” Alex said. “I’m putting in full days here at St. Katherine’s for the rest of the week, so just let me know what you decide.”

“I will,” she answered.

“Have a good night,” Alex said.

She turned. “You, too,” she said before following Rashad Richards out of the lounge.

Alex stared at the door for several moments as he tried to figure out just what the heck was going on with him. He
was turned on.
Really
turned on. After years of believing the need for a woman didn’t exist in his world, he found it strange to have such feelings stirring in his gut.

Alex cursed under his breath as he pushed through the door of the teachers’ lounge. Without his permission, his libido had ended its hiatus.

Chapter Five

 

“I was thinking we could catch the viewing of
A Clockwork Orange
at the Zeitgeist Theater on Friday,” Rashad said as they walked across Claiborne Avenue to the teachers’ parking lot that sat directly across the street from St. Katherine’s.

“I’m not really up to seeing something that deep,” Renee said.

“But it’s a classic.”

“One you’ve probably seen five times.”

“Oh, I’ve seen it more times than that.”

“Then it won’t hurt if you miss it on Friday,” she reasoned. “Why don’t we go to a regular movie?”

“That crap Hollywood puts out there isn’t worth the ten bucks they make you pay,” Rashad complained. He draped his arm over her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. He dipped his head, and with his mouth close to her ear, said, “Come on, Renee, you know you want to be alone with me in that nice, cozy theater.”

Renee pushed him away, halting her steps. “Okay, stop that.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Look, Rashad, when I agreed to go out with you that first time, I told you things would have to go extremely slow. And if anything more were to develop between us—
which I have not agreed to—it would be strictly after hours.”

“And I’ve respected that.”

“You just tried to kiss me!”

“What’s wrong with that? This
is
after hours. The school is over there,” he said, pointing to the building across the street.

“So what was that wink about when I came to get your students?”

“Oh, that.” He waved her off as if it was some insignificant joke. His nonchalance only irritated her more.

“That’s the type of stuff I’m talking about, Rashad. Some of the students saw you.”

“You’re biting my head off because some of the students noticed a harmless wink?”

“What you fail to realize is that I didn’t see it as harmless. I saw it as inappropriate in front of my students, and I don’t want it to happen again.”

He spread his hands wide in surrender. “Fine, I won’t wink at you ever again. In fact, I’ll close my eyes and turn my back whenever you come to get the kids for Accelerated Reader.”

Renee saw the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and couldn’t help laughing. Maybe she was blowing this out of proportion. Rashad was a nice guy, and to be honest, she didn’t want to lose him as a friend.

What would be the harm in hanging out with him Friday night, even if it meant watching a movie she didn’t particularly want to see? Friends sacrificed for their friends, right?

“What time does the movie start?” she asked.

“Seven o’clock,” Rashad answered with a triumphant smile. “Why don’t I pick you up at your aunt’s at six? We can have an early dinner.”

“That sounds good,” Renee answered. He leaned over as
if he was going to kiss her, then jerked back and stuck out his hand instead.

Renee burst out laughing. She captured his outstretched hand and gave it a hearty shake.

“Have a good night, Ms. Moore,” Rashad said. He plucked the keys from her fingers and unlocked and opened her car door.

“Thank you,” Renee told him. She noticed the black folding case on the floor of the front passenger side of the car. It was the teaching manual kit she’d forgotten to return to the fifth grade science teacher, Mrs. Payne.

“Shoot,” Renee said, reaching over for the case. “I need to bring this to Mrs. Payne. She let me borrow it two weeks ago.”

Rashad shrugged. “Give it to her tomorrow.”

“It’s been in my car since last Tuesday. I need to bring it now before I forget again. I’ll stick it in the reading lab. At least it’ll be one step closer to Mrs. Payne’s class.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Rashad took her hand and placed a slight kiss on the back of it. “That’s gallantry, and nothing else.”

“Good night, Rashad,” Renee laughed.

She tucked the folding case under her arm and walked to the end of the block so she could cross the street with the assistance of the cross guard. Traffic was heavy around this time of the day, and she had no desire to meet with the front bumper of a car.

She entered through the side door that was closer to her reading lab. One of the custodial workers was emptying the trash bin when Renee walked into the classroom.

“Hi there,” she said.

“Hi, Ms. Moore. Working late?”

“No, just bringing this in before it spends yet another day in my car.” Renee deposited the teaching kit on her desk. “Have a good night,” she called to the custodian. As she exited the lab, Renee spotted Alex Holmes coming up the
hallway. Hot anticipation gripped her. Should she pretend she didn’t see him and head out of the building?

Yeah, right. It took only a few seconds for his long stride to eat up the distance of the corridor.

“Hello again,” Renee said as he approached.

“Hi, Ms. Moore.”

“Are you trying to earn extra credit?” she asked. “School let out a half hour ago.”

He looked down from the seven or so inches he had on her. He had incredibly beautiful lashes for a man. They hooded his eyes, like a delicate awning over a secret door.

He held up a white sweater with pink and yellow flowers edging the collar. “My daughter left her sweater.”

His voice was as rich as the slow churned Belgian chocolate ice cream she occasionally treated herself to after a bad day.

“Are you on your way out?” he asked.

Renee nodded. Speaking wasn’t really high on her list of priorities at the moment. She was perfectly content to just look.

He held the side door open for her, and Renee slipped past him. They walked along the sidewalk, the towering oak trees that lined Claiborne Avenue shading them from the sun.

Renee chanced a glance at the man strolling beside her. He had a presence about him, as if he was used to being in charge. But he did say he owned that construction company, didn’t he?

Given those muscles rippling under the cover of his sleeves, Renee presumed he put in his fair share of hours on those construction jobs. His body was taut and fit. She’d always had a thing for shoulders, and he had been blessed with a gorgeous set, even though one was covered in a bandage.

“What happened to your shoulder?” she asked.

He glanced over to his injured arm. “A beam fell on it.”

“Ouch.” Renee grimaced. “I’ll bet that hurt.”

He shrugged with his undamaged shoulder. “I could
pretend the pain was nothing, but truth is, I passed out after it happened. I hardly remember anything about it.”

“Did it require surgery?

He nodded. “Along with a lot of physical therapy. I can’t return to the job for at least another few weeks.”

“That must be frustrating.”

Another shrug. “It’s over and done. Can’t do anything about it now other than keep up with the PT. And it hasn’t been all bad. I’ve been meaning to help out here since my daughter entered the preschool. This gives me the chance.”

“Who is your daughter?” Renee asked.

“Jasmine Holmes,” he answered. “She’s in Mrs. Over land’s first grade class.”

Renee nodded. She knew Jasmine Holmes. She’d also heard the little girl had lost her mother two years ago and was being raised by her widowed father. Her apparently
still single
widowed father. Penelope would be happy to know she was right in her assumption.

“So, if my aunt agrees, does this mean you’ll be able to check out the house once you’re well?”

“No,” he said, taking her hand as they crossed to the median. His hand was rough, almost like sandpaper against her skin, but it felt good. “I can still come over and inspect the house,” he continued. “Once I get a clear picture of what needs to be done, one of the volunteer crews can start working.”

He looked down at their clasped hands and quickly let go.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m so used to taking Jasmine’s or my mother’s hand whenever we cross the street.”

“That’s okay,” Renee said, a slight smile tipping up the corners of her mouth. “I didn’t mind.”

He stared at her for a beat before averting his eyes. Renee could sense he was a bit flustered. Unsure. She also sensed the sweetness she’d perceived in him was genuine. She wondered what else she would find if she looked past Alex
Holmes’s set of spectacular shoulders and amazingly soft brown eyes.

“You know, Jasmine is one of my best readers,” Renee commented as they entered the gated teachers’ parking lot.

“You’re one of Jasmine’s teachers? I thought Mrs. Overland and Mr. Hebert were the only ones who taught first grade?”

“I’m not a teacher in the traditional sense. I’m the special projects coordinator, which includes the Accelerated Reader program here at St. Katherine’s. Jasmine comes to me twice a week. I’m also filling in for the librarian, Mrs. Johnson, while she recovers from gallstone surgery.”

“I’m surprised Jasmine hasn’t mentioned there was a new librarian. She loves the library.”

“I can tell.” Renee nodded. “She actually reads at a third grade level.”

“She’s always loved books. I’ve been reading to her since she was a baby.”

“It’s paid off.”

They came upon her car and Renee felt a pang of disappointment that their conversation would soon be over. “Well, this is my car,” she said.

He stopped, stared. At her.

Renee stared back, completely taken in by his intense gaze.

“Ms. Moore?”

“It’s Renee.”

“Renee,” he said slowly as if he wasn’t sure how her name would sound on his lips. It sounded pretty good to her.

He shook his head with a start, snapping the connection between them. “Have you noticed a difference in Jasmine over the past couple of weeks?” he asked.

Renee forced herself to get a grip, which would probably be easier if she didn’t stare at those eyes that had the ability to put her in a trance. Instead, she focused on unlocking her car door.

“What kind of difference are you talking about?” she asked.

“Has she been acting strange in class?”

Renee tried to remember if anything little Jasmine Holmes had done over the past few weeks stood out in her mind.

“I only have her for forty minutes, twice a week. I can’t recall anything out of the ordinary. Is something wrong?” Renee asked.

After a significant pause, he shook his head. “No. She’s okay.”

If everything was okay, why would he have asked about Jasmine’s behavior in the first place? But Renee resisted the urge to question him further. He didn’t seem all that interested in playing the sharing game.

“Well, thanks for walking me to my car,” Renee said in an attempt to fill in the awkward silence.

“Have a good evening, Renee.” He gazed down at her for another long moment, then continued on to a huge black and chrome truck two spots down.

Renee opened her car door and slid behind the wheel. She looked in her rearview mirror and stared as the shiny pickup passed behind her car and exited the parking lot.

Renee thought about Friday night and her date with Rashad and Stanley Kubrick at his most symbolic. She wondered what Alex Holmes had planned for this Friday night. She couldn’t imagine him out clubbing, especially with a six year old to take care of, and definitely not with that injured shoulder he had to nurse back to health.

And just why are you thinking about him, anyway?
Renee thought to herself.

“Because he is fine as hell,” she answered aloud.

Margo poked her head out of Alex’s kitchen pantry. “Are you sure you don’t want to come back to the house? Even if it’s just another week?” She grabbed the aluminum foil
from the pantry, tore a piece from the roll, and used it to wrap up the remaining apple pie.

“One week won’t make much difference,” Alex answered.

“Of course it would. It’s an additional week of healing time for your arm.”

“I can handle it, Mama. Stop worrying.”

“That’s not going to happen no matter what you tell me,” Mama said as she rinsed suds off a dish and wiped it dry. Not only had she brought dinner and dessert, but she’d insisted on cleaning up, too.

“I was going to wash those dishes,” Alex said.

“You were going to put them in the dishwasher. I’ve told you that you can’t count on those machines to get your dishes clean.” She lowered the pot that had held the chicken stew into the soapy water. “So, things went well at the school today, huh?”

They’d talked a little over dinner about his and Jasmine’s day at school, but now that Jazzy had gone into her room to work on her penmanship, he could fill Mama in on everything he’d observed, which actually wasn’t much. Of course, Jasmine had not engaged in any of the behavior that had caused Principal Green to originally call him in, not with him in the classroom. The psychologist still thought his volunteering was the best way to allay Jasmine’s irrational— albeit understandable—fears of him dying.

“Everything went well, but I’m not sure that’s a good thing.” He walked over to the sink and leaned against the counter. “Both Mrs. Overland and the school psychologist said they don’t expect her to misbehave while I’m there. It’s when I start to gradually back away that the psychologist thinks she may start to rebel again.”

“The fact that she’s using Chantal’s death as an excuse concerns me. She seemed to be coping so well over the last year.”

Alex shook his head. “Maybe she’s trying to get attention, and she thinks reminding them that her mother is dead
will get her sympathy from her teachers. According to Toby, it worked for him.”

Mama looked back at him with a disgusted eye roll. “Toby needs a good smacking,” she grunted. “What did Jasmine say when you talked to her about acting out at school?”

Alex ran a hand over his head. “We haven’t really talked about it. I told her she was punished because I was called to the principal’s office for her, but that’s about it.”

“Alex.” She turned and perched a hand on her hip. “What good is punishing her if you don’t discuss
why
she’s being punished?” she asked, the words thick with chastisement.

“I know that won’t cut it,” Alex sighed. He attempted to cross his arms over his chest, then realized he couldn’t with his right shoulder’s limited range of motion. “But I have to psyche myself up for this conversation, Mama. I’ve been avoiding it for over two years.”