Pirates were so sexy—dangerous and fierce, but also charming. When he smiled—and admittedly she’d only seen him do it when he’d thought he’d gotten the best of her at the protest—his features softened and his eyes lightened from espresso to dark caramel.
He was the classic bad boy. So not her thing. Though she wasn’t sure she had a thing. She didn’t seem to have much, well, passion, when it came to men. Or at least the men she’d dated so far.
Right now she had no time for a friction-means-fire moment. She had a major problem and she needed Gabe’s cooperation to solve it.
The humiliation of the police call in the middle of the district meeting was not the worst news she’d had that afternoon. Not even close.
Tom Brown had pulled her aside to tell her that due to a budget shortfall, the bulk of the funds he’d promised for her Enriched Learning System had been “redirected” to more crucial district needs.
In short, she’d been screwed.
She’d begun to suspect April might be right about the conspiracy against Discovery. During the meeting Felicity had picked up hostility toward the alternative schools and caught definite eye rolls during her report. Some important people expected her to fail—maybe even wanted her to.
Now she was frustrated and outraged and scared. She’d known she had an uphill battle. But she hadn’t expected to have someone dynamite the ground out from under her.
She’d held a faculty meeting as soon as school was dismissed that first day to lay out the tenets of her program. She’d watched their faces go from resistant to curious to wary to almost hopeful. When she’d told them Tom had promised district funds to implement it, their faces had plain lit up.
But that turned out to be a lie. When her staff found out, they would think her a blowhard, a liar, a fool or all three. Felicity would seem weak, maybe even her uncle’s flunky, part of the plot to sink the school.
She had to turn this around. She saw a way through Gabe. All she had to do was get him to agree.
“So, are we good?” Gabe asked, bracing his hip against her desk, arms folded. He was acting casual, but he homed in, assessing her for weak spots, like an opponent in his boxing ring. “We ducked the news like you wanted.”
She decided to emphasize her losses, make him feel guilty. “But not the police. Now my bosses think I had to quell a riot.”
“The kids didn’t call the cops.”
“No. They just created the disturbance that drew them.”
“Anyway, you handled that well. You took the boys seriously. You talked to Alex with respect. That was good for them.”
“You think so? And what was the lesson? That blackmail works? Threaten media exposure and the principal will fold?” She felt angry all over again. “We both know what happened. You played me and hijacked half my Institute space for eight entire weeks.”
“True.” He had the decency to look sheepish.
“That said, I need to clarify some things.” She’d start with the easy part. “First, I arranged with the district to use group liability coverage until you get the forms from each kid. But we do need the forms.”
“Great. I appreciate that. You’ll get them.” He seemed startled by her concession.
“Also, I’ll need my half of the room cleared out by next Wednesday, when I want to start the Institute.”
“We can give you some space, but—”
“Fifty-fifty. We agreed. Also, you’ll need to keep the noise down so we’ll be able to hold discussions and run workshops.”
“We’re training. We hit bags and toss tires. It’s loud.” He frowned, shifting his weight, not happy about what she was saying.
“Make an effort.”
He just looked at her. “Is that it?”
“There’s one more thing.” She took a deep breath before delivering the blow. “I’m going to need you to pay rent.”
“Rent? What the hell?” He pushed to his feet, as if braced for battle.
“Don’t loom over me, please. Sit down so we can discuss this.”
He stalked around the desk and dropped into the chair. “Rent was not part of the deal.”
“It is now. I lost my funding. Your rent will help cover it.” It would get her through the end of the year, she hoped, if she was brutally frugal. After that, she had no idea what she’d do. Hope for a budget boost? A grant? A charity? A miracle?
“How much?” he said through gritted teeth.
“We can be reasonable. Five dollars a square foot is well below current rates. With you using five hundred square feet, that’s $2,500 a month.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You charge fees, don’t you?”
“The kids pay fifty a month when they can. The full rate is one hundred and fifty. I cover the rest as scholarships.” He glared at her. “You’re reneging on our deal.”
She held his gaze. “You extorted that deal from me and you know it. Circumstances changed, so the deal has to change.”
“I can’t pay rent.” He paused, staring at her. “But then, you knew that, didn’t you?” Fury roiled in his eyes, like dark water in a storm. “You want us out. I get it.”
“You can stay if you pay.”
“You always get what you want, don’t you? No matter what it takes or who it hurts. Well played, Cici.”
“What does that mean?” But she knew. He meant Robert—that she’d used him, left him in jail and run for the hills. Her face burned. She’d been a scared, angry kid. She’d gone along with Robert, not dragged him into trouble. And when her mother got a job, she’d had to leave. And her mother—
She stopped her awful thoughts. “No matter what you think about me, Gabe, I’m doing what’s best for the kids.”
“Save your speeches for the PTO or the press or whatever politician you need to snow.”
She could tell he wanted to let her have it, tell her exactly what he thought of her, then and now. His fists were clenched, his jaw was working and his breathing was ragged. But he only said, “You win. We’ll be gone as soon as I find a place.” He turned and left.
She stood, as if to call him back, but her throat was tight and she was breathing as though she’d run ten miles. Where did he get off acting so self-righteous? She’d made a reasonable offer. He was supposed to bargain with her, not give in and stalk out.
She sank into her chair, irate and hurt. He’d insulted her integrity and accused her of exploiting Robert in one vicious sentence. He was an angry man with a chip on his shoulder so broad you could balance a tray
