“Try it on one of the boys and you may have to use every self-defense technique you know.”
She tossed her hair. “But I’m safe with you?”
“Not safe at all, Miss Rose.”
Her eyes flickered with interest. He never flirted with women. Never. But she was digging deeper into him than anyone had and finding a place he hadn’t known existed.
“Safe is for wimps,” she said.
“And we all agree you’re not a wimp.”
“Oh, I have my moments.” Her hand drifted away. “I’m sure I’ll see you occasionally throughout the day.”
“Count on it.”
A smile came and went. “I will.”
He let out a long, slow breath as she walked away, leaving a trail of fragrance and an eyeful of softly swaying hips. He swallowed, hungry for her, at the same time wary of the hunger.
Maybe it was time to take his first vacation in nine years.
The last cherubic face had been washed and the last squirming body covered with a blanket in the nap room before Tessa found time to draw a deep breath. She turned a comical expression on Chandra, the day care director.
“Lively bunch,” Tessa said. In her charge were twenty preschoolers and four aides, an excellent balance. Still, learning their names and personalities made a person a little foggy for a while. And she’d only been at work a few hours.
“Thank goodness for the teenagers who volunteer to help. During the school year, we only have two aides each. It can be overwhelming,” Chandra said, looking at her watch. “I wonder where Dodger is. He should have been here an hour ago.”
“Who’s Dodger?”
“He delivers our food order three times a week. We just qualified for a huge grant that will allow us more fresh fruits and vegetables and enough milk, cereal and pasta to feed this small army. Dodger’s been getting here later and later, though. Guess I’m gonna have to complain to his boss.” She pushed herself out of the chair. “Grab some lunch while you can, Tessa. I’ll be on the phone awhile.”
Tuna sandwich had never tasted so good, Tessa thought as she leaned her head against the back of her chair, closed her eyes and chewed. She liked the environment of this place, so different from the Schuman Corporation, where everything was updated continually, the latest toys and computers purchased frequently to entertain and teach. Here, however, they made do with castoffs that had been cleaned up and lots of homemade toys and games. And the kids were gems. Unspoiled, full of giggles, happy for the attention.
A sixth sense told her that someone was watching her. She took her time opening her eyes, knowing that it was Chase.
It wasn’t. A pony tailed young man stood in the doorway, a blue baseball cap perched backward on his head, a handcart loaded with boxes in front of him.
“You the new teach?” he asked, coming into the room, heading toward the door that led to the kitchen. “I’m Dodger.”
She stood, uneasy. She didn’t know how long he’d been watching her while she was lost in her own thoughts. “I’ll tell Mrs. Moore you’re here.”
“Not to worry, babe. I know where I’m goin’.”
“My name is Miss Rose.”
He eyed her coolly, then shrugged and turned away. “Whatever. You want to come along and sign for this stuff?”
A masculine voice answered, “I will.”
Chase came into the room, his expression fiercer than usual. “Thank you, Miss Rose. I’ll take care of this. Finish your lunch.”
She could hear the men talking as she sat again. She wanted to creep closer to the kitchen, to hear what Chase was telling the young man. Dodger came out in a minute, winked at her, then pushed the handcart ahead of him.
“He’ll be back with more,” Chase said, leaning against the doorway. “I’ll stay until he’s done.”
“Okay.”
“I explained the rules. No one swears, no one speaks disrespectfully to another. He’s not part of the Center, but while he’s here, he’s expected to conform.”
“He doesn’t look like a conformist,” Tessa said, smiling at his paternal attitude. “Care for a sandwich? I’ve got plenty to share.”
She could see him automatically start to say no, then his answer eased into the affirmative. He sat beside her, accepting the tuna sandwich. She shoved some chips his way and opened a large plastic bag filled with oatmeal-and-raisin cookies.
“How is your day going?” he asked.
“Great. The kids are amazing.”
“In what way?”
“Nothing bores them, for one thing. And they share pretty well, considering their ages. The teenagers who are helping out are terrific. too. I’ll be sorry to lose them when school starts.”
“You’ll have more help than the early-in-the-day teachers because once school lets out for the day, the kids start piling in. Everyone has to pay to be a member here, and if they can’t afford it, they work off the equivalent in time. We always have help. We count on it. Did you make the cookies?”
“Mmm-hmm. I didn’t have any champagne, so I launched my new apartment by making cookies.”
Dodger returned and made a straight line for the kitchen. As he came back through, Tessa offered him some cookies, as well. She was aware of Chase angling her way, stretching out his legs and crossing his ankles, as if there for the duration. She wondered if he was aware of what a mark of ownership his actions were.
Dodger grabbed a handful of cookies. “Thanks, Miss Rose.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Dodger.”
He laughed, then his gaze slid to Chase, effectively ending the conversation.
“You are formidable,” Tessa said to Chase when Dodger left.
“Am I?”
She smiled. “You’re a natural.”
“I’m not, actually.”
“Formidable, or a natural?”
“Either.”
“Yes, you are. This is your kingdom.”
He wadded his sandwich wrap into a ball and tossed it into a wastebasket. “The Center is a democracy. I just oversee it.”
“You rule it.”
He shook his head. “That’s not true. Ten people make up the board of directors. Of those ten, five are teenagers. The remaining five aren’t politicians or civic leaders but people from this community, people who have a vested interest in the success of this venture.”
“But ultimately you have the final word.” She watched his bland expression for any nuance of change.
“I’ve only intervened once in a board decision. The kids wanted to purchase some televisions. They’d even swayed two of the adults to their side. I said no.”
“Why?”
“Because they can watch television at home. I want them busy here. Not just physically, with sports, but mentally. There’s a quiet room for them to do homework or read. They form discussion groups, and I don’t put limits on the subjects. The fact they’re communicating, especially with each other, is what’s important. Peer counseling is critical. They learn that they can deal with their problems using their minds, not their fists and certainly not weapons. I can’t tell you how