Page 34 of Caught Stealing

A few taps takes me to Elsher’s dedicated social media pages. There are loads of photos with him and his fans, but I’m looking for a particular fan. An ex fan. When my scrolling lands on the last picture he posted with Lottie, my heart stutters. She’s gorgeous. Utterly stunning. And any fool can see she is foolishly, hopelessly in love with him. It’s all in her eyes, the sparkle and softness in them as she gazes up at him like he hung the stupid moon.

I know checking the comments section is a terrible idea, but I do it anyway. It’s sickening. The older comments mention how pretty she is, that he’s a lucky guy, and even some who say she’s lucky to have Rory. None are particularly disparaging until more recently. There’s a block of them questioning where Lottie disappeared to. Speculating that they broke up and this was all a fake, staged photo to hide their tumultuous relationship. Eventually, they turn on her until the official story is that she stepped out on him.

And the jerk has the nerve to leave it all out there for anyone to see. He cheats, breaks her heart, and doesn’t even have the decency to stop the rumors. Figures.

I let out a deep sigh and turn off my phone. Stalking this guy’s socials won’t make this better. I have to accept that there isn’t anything I can do to change it, make it better, or speed it up if she does change her mind. A guy doesn’t exactly enjoy feeling helpless, but the only thing I can do is wait and pray.

Chapter Fourteen

Charlotte

“All I’m saying is, I’m not interested in dealing with the app or any other form of blind dating again, that’s all. I cannot believe it set me up with an athlete. The coincidence is maddening, and I’m not really keen on bothering with it again.” This is the third time I’ve explained to Destiny why I don’t want to try again on an app that was supposed to work the first time. And maybe it did. Maybe I’m the one breaking the algorithm, but I can’t help it.

Destiny frowns and shakes her head. “I wasn’t thinking about that, I suppose. I was only thinking about how well it worked out for me and that I want you to be happy in love too. It was never my intention to hurt you, Lottie. You have to know that.” She tucks her dark curly hair behind her ear, her warm eyes drifting back to mine with sincerity.

“I believe you, but the next time you get a wild idea like that, leave me out of it.” I shove a stack of papers in my bag and sling it over my shoulder. Ironically, the kids were much better today. It was almost as if they knew I was off and decided to comply rather than fight me at every turn. I’m grateful for it, but this is exactly why I can’t get in deep with anyone soon, let alone a baseball player.

But Andrew is difficult to ignore.

“You gushed about him before you knew he was a pitcher. Why not give him a chance? Athletes aren’t all horrible, and you know that’s true,” she argues as we head down the long corridor to the teachers’ parking lot.

I try to focus on my surroundings rather than allow my mind to drift back to last night. Teaching Andrew put me in a precarious position, and I can’t stop smelling him in my mind.

I notice that the lockers are in dire need of repainting, the floor tiles need replacing in many spots, and the walls could also use a good coat of paint. In general, our school is dingy and sad. Throw in the ancient equipment, and I can’t help thinking it’s time for a fundraiser. As a private school, we don’t get much funding unless we work for it.

“Lottie, where’d you go? You’re daydreaming.”

I shake my head. “I was just looking around. Do you think Headmaster Charles would allow us to organize a fundraiser?”

“That was not the topic of discussion,” Destiny says and offers me a suspicious side eye glance.

I sigh. “I’m just not ready to go down that road again, okay? Now, moving on, we need to spruce this school up. What do you think?”

Destiny shakes her head and snickers, but doesn’t broach the topic of dating again. “I think if anyone can convince him, it’s probably you. Want me to go with you when you confront him with the idea?”

“Would you?” I ask and adjust the strap of my bag. It’ll be a long night of grading papers, but at least creating little murder scenes in red ink on my student’s papers will distract me from thinking about a certain Sharks player who has stolen my interest whether I like it or not. “If we can get it going, we might even be able to hire some tutors. I just can’t offer the kids what they need without help. Half of my class is failing, and even with student tutoring hours every week, I can’t get to everyone.”

“What we need are more full time teachers, but the benefits package and pay are not competitive enough.” Destiny pulls the door open and it creaks so loudly we cringe. That’s before we have to yank it back closed behind us.

“I’m not sure one fundraiser will cover what this school needs,” I admit. I tap my chin and contemplate what we could do on a larger scale. Selling cookies and calendars won’t cut it for the improvements we need. No, we need the big guns. “What about a school carnival? I bet I can get people to donate items for an auction. We could make most of what we need in the shop department, and what we have to rent we might be able to get at a discount.”

“You really are a go big or go home kind of woman, aren’t you?” She smiles and pats my shoulder. “I’m with you. I’ll be your cheerleader the whole time, just tell me how much you want me to schmooze, and I’m in.”

“Oh, could you get your super sweet, oh so charitable fiancée to donate something from the Predators for an auction?”

“I’m sure I can. He’d probably even show up for it if you think it’ll make money,” she offers.

“Okay. Let me see if I can develop a basic plan tonight, and we can pitch it to Headmaster tomorrow. Sound good?”

“It sounds like wishful thinking, but yeah, I’m in.” We approach her car and she pauses before unlocking it. “I almost forgot. I wanted to ask you if you’ll come to my engagement party Friday night.” She raises her hand before I can accept or decline and adds, “Yes, there will be single soccer players there, but they will be under strict order not to hit on any of the single ladies.”

I chuckle and wave as I head toward my car. “Of course, I’ll be there!” I shout, all the while wondering if I’ll ever escape the world of sports and romance.

I’ve eaten and walked Ginger, graded papers that were much better than anticipated—and for good measure, I used sparkly purple pen to grade them—and now all that’s left to do before sinking into my cozy bed is to lay out a basic plan for a school carnival.

A little voice inside my head tells me there is no harm in asking Andrew to help, maybe entice a crowd with two pro athletes, but another voice tells me it isn’t fair to do that to him. How can I turn him down as a potential partner for playing baseball, then turn around and ask him to use that very characteristic to help me raise money for the school?

“It’s downright rude,” I say to Ginger, who raises a fuzzy eyebrow and licks her jowls. She whines a little and rolls over for a belly rub. I’m quick to oblige while I make a list of possible activities we can afford to implement. A dunk tank, races, balloon toss—a lot of generic, good clean fun.

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