Read Online The One Who Got Away (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) by Ava Claire - Free Book Online Page B

shoot his classmate because he wouldn’t hand over his sneakers.” His eyes simmered like coals. “You have a good day now.”
    He’d turned his back, thoroughly putting me in my place, but I lingered there, my heart, my soul officially in the pit of my stomach. I studied sociology in school, understood the cycle of violence and poverty and how access to programs and resources had the power to change lives. There was no debating that we had a long way to go. Metal detectors and security guards would be obsolete when we made a better, kinder, and more fair world, not when I shamed the people who were just cogs in the machine. He was the first line of defense in the very war I was fighting. He wasn’t the problem.
    I smoothed a hand over my hair and apologized. “I’m sorry.”
    The door swung open and Abel went back to work, a cluster of boys waiting for their turn through the metal detector.
    Get your game face on, Cat . It was the nudge I needed to get me down the hall. My heels clicked on the floor as I walked past construction paper and poster boards tacked to the walls, covering various subjects from science to family trips that tiny hands recreated with crayon.
    A group of boys in various comic book inspired t-shirts rushed past me into the office, the door practically shutting right in my face. A stern elderly woman with white hair did not approve. Her lipsticked mouth became a thin line and without a word, the last boy in rushed back to hold the door for me. They erupted in a chorus of apologies and conducted their business, each taking custody of boxes of books and barreling out of the office as quickly as they barreled in.
    The receptionist and I exhaled in unison and she beckoned me to the desk.
    “I don’t know where they get all that energy, but I’d like a handful of it,” I chuckled.
    “You and me both,” she huffed, scooting her chair closer. The stern look she’d given the boys was a distant memory when a smile spread across her friendly face. “What can I do for you, sweetheart?”
    “I have a meeting with Principal Waters,” I explained, adjusting the strap of my briefcase. “I’m with Backpacks for Change?”
    The friendliness on her face transformed into gratitude almost instantly. I was out of sorts as she moved with a speed and agility that seemed impossible for her age and wrapped her arms on me.
    All I’d said was ‘I’m with Backpacks for Change’ and she was hugging me like we were already friends.
    When we separated, my chest tightened when I saw tears glistening in her brown eyes.
    “That your organization is helping our school, our kids...we are just so grateful,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “A lot of these kids are used to disappointment and people giving up on them. They deserve something good.”
    I put a hand on her shoulder and nodded. “Damn straight.” My hand shot to my mouth when I realized I’d just cussed in front of an elder, a woman that was reminding me more and more of my grandmother. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, my face mimicking the color of my briefcase.
    She didn’t say a word, stalking back to her desk. I heard a drawer zip open and when she returned to view, she perched a jar filled with coins on the ledge.
    “Usually cussing costs you, but you’re new here, so I’ll let it slide.”
    Freaking out a little, I swung my briefcase onto my thigh and rummaged through the front pocket for some change, but her laugh drew my attention back to her.
    “You’re fine, darlin’,” she chuckled. “Around here, you’ve gotta keep your wits about you, have a hell of a sense of humor, and cuss when the occasion calls for it.” She tucked the jar out of sight and turned her attention to the computer on the desk. “Let me get you all signed up, then I’ll walk you over to the conference room. I’m Mrs. Lenoir.” Her fingertips flew across the keyboard.
    “I’m Catherine Wilkes,” I said softly, still getting comfortable. “Nice to