Page 9 of Fated Mates and How to Seduce Them
On the list of things to fix, he’d better put the driveway.
The road curved around a bend of trees, and he was suddenly there. The single building, which had likely been a large family home at some point, sat right in front of him. A vinyl and brick sprawling two-story, it looked like one of those farmhouses that had been repeatedly added on to, and it desperately needed a good pressure washing, maybe new siding. New roof for sure. And did he spy a broken window with plywood covering it?
Jeez, really? They couldn’t even fix a window?
André could see why Ian volunteered here. They likely needed all the help they could get.
He parked near the front door and got out, taking his leather briefcase with him. Closing the car door, he sucked in a breath. Right. Time to roll.
Why did he feel strangely nervous? It didn’t make sense. Hey, butterflies in the stomach, settle down—no need for you here, shoo.
The faded green door opened as he walked toward it, and a weather-worn woman in her late forties stepped out, looking him over curiously. She had taupe skin, hair dyed a brilliant red, and wore stained jeans and a faded black shirt.
“Hello? Can I help you?”
André gave her his best professional smile, having reached the porch. “Hello. I’m André Castor.”
“Oh, hello.” She smiled reflexively back. “I’m Emma Witten.”
“It’s so lovely to meet you, Miss Emma. Are you in charge of this place, by chance?”
“I’m one of them, yes.” She kept her smile, but the confusion was back.
“I’ve come because I want to meet with you. I’d like to donate to your group home.”
Her tired eyes lit up. Truly, he hadn’t seen someone this excited to see him since he came home and saw his father for the first time in six months. Her reaction was rather heartwarming.
“Do come in!” she encouraged, stepping forward to put a hand on his back and usher him in. “We’re always excited to have sponsors. Tell me how you came to find us.”
“Oh, I go to school with someone who volunteers here regularly.”
“Ian.” Emma said his name like there was no possibility of it being someone else.
“That’s him. My family’s encouraged me to find something to support, and I’ve been looking around, but this was the first thing to spark my interest.” André paused just inside the doorway.
The foyer, if you could call it that, wasn’t in the best shape. The wooden floors needed to be sanded and redone. A cubby to his right overflowed with shoes, part of it held together with duct tape. He didn’t think the domed light fixture overhead worked, either.
Somewhere farther back and to his right, André could hear the chattering and laughter of a lot of children. The place had a delightful vibe and warm atmosphere, and the scents of lemon and Fabuloso lingered in the air, so they’d cleaned recently.
“Mary!” Emma called down the long hallway. “Hold on, André, I want my partner to meet you. She’ll be thrilled you’re here. As you can see, the building is not in the best shape. We’ve been doing fundraisers and such to get the most urgent repairs done, but it’s a lower income area, so we’re not making much headway.”
Another woman, older with black hair in a messy bun and a stained apron tied around her waist, poked her head out from another doorway. “What is it?”
“We have someone here who wants to sponsor us!” Emma beamed at André like he was about ten Christmases rolled into one.
He might well be. For them, at least.
Mary gave him the same smile Emma had, and she abandoned whatever it was she had been doing, coming straight to him.
André gave her a smile and held out a hand. “I’m André Castor. Nice to meet you.”
She shook his hand with a light grip. “I’m Mary Goodehall. It’s so good to meet you, André. Please, come in. How did you hear of us?”
“He’s Ian’s friend,” Emma relayed.
Well, not quite, but André was working on it. He did like this reception. Convincing them had been easy peasy so far, and they weren’t filled with distrust and questions like he’d expected. Maybe he had this in the bag? He didn’t know how Ian would take his presence here, but he at least had a foot in the door.
More truthfully, he added, “Ian’s always posting about this place on his Facebook, and it caught my eye. I decided it was best to come here and see the situation for myself, meet all of you. Can you give me a tour, tell me more about the home? I couldn’t find a website.”
