Billionaire Seduction

By Samantha Carter

Alpha Billionaire. Steamy Romance. Secret Past.

A full-length, standalone romance with an HEA ending and no cliffhangers.

Daniel Wilson is the billionaire CEO of one of the largest companies in the world. He is the definition of an alpha male and every woman's fantasy. Domineering, powerful, and always in control.

But hidden beneath the tailored suits and luxury cars is a secret past, and he wants to keep it that way... that is, until Katie comes along.

Katie Kelly is playful, sassy, and sweet when she wants to be. She never thought she’d have anything in common with a cocky billionaire, but there's hidden depth to him that surprises her. She is determined to get at the truth beneath his steely exterior.

The moment he touches her, she sizzles like a moth drawn to flame. Her body comes to life under his and she can't get enough of him. As the heat rises between the unlikely pair, so does the risk of revealing what should stay hidden. If he lets her get close enough to learn his secret, they might not survive the fallout...

Will they put everything on the live for a chance at love?

Note: This is a stand-alone, full-length romance novel with HEA ending guaranteed, no cliffhangers!

• Language: English
• Publisher: melissahollandaise
• Release date: Jan 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370833894

Book preview

Chapter

1

I stood in front of my mirror; it was impeccably clean, shining brightly. I ran my hand firmly down my chest with my palm, smoothing my tie out, so it laid properly. My hair was just recently cut, it rested evenly combed. I walked out of my closet, shutting the door behind me and picked up my brief case,

walking

tall

.

Alejandro, I greeted my chef. He nodded, knowing I didn’t like deep conversations.

I sat and ate the perfectly prepared, healthy breakfast he created just for me. I sipped coffee as I scanned over email, after email, after email. My home was silent, pure silence. There was never any type of noise other than clocks ticking. You could hear a

pin

drop

.

Morning, she fluttered in, dressed in the trampy, high end dress she wore the night before when she came over. She came to sit by me, Alejandro left right away, he was a

smart

man

.

Morning. I put my black coffee mug down. "I trust you know

the

door

?"

Are you serious?

"I told you, last night, last time. I let you sleep over in the guest room. You know, the first night and the last night, only times you can

rest

here

."

Her blond hair that fell in messy curls shook as she brushed it back. Her nail polish was perfectly painted, her face was beautiful, her body perfect as well. She was tall, lean, big chested and had a big behind to match. She was the perfect body type to me. It didn’t matter; this had run its course.

Y-You’re really done? she whispered. "I thought we would have a little

more

time

."

I’m sorry Emily. I told you, I just have trysts, I am not a boyfriend.

I thought...

"What would ever make you

think

that

?"

I don’t know. She shrugged. I guess I was hopeful. She got off the stool and kissed my cheek. I hated that. It was nice to spend time with you Daniel.

You too Emily.

She grabbed her purse that rested on the couch and walked out. I fixed the stool, a bit strict about things like that. I liked order. I liked things to be done efficiently and correctly, I was a business man, and I had high expectations for those

around

me

.

When I said jump, I expected to be asked how high without hesitation. When I came into a room, you damn well better get out of my way. I was in charge, I was the head of my own world and nothing and no one would ever throw me off. Everyone gave me the respect I deserved, and everyone, everyone, did exactly as I said when I said. I was Daniel James Wilson, and everyone

knew

that

.

Chapter

2

My career was draining and all over the place. I was in one country to the next. I owned many businesses, companies, plants, even schools. I was a very powerful man, at a fairly young age. I had high expectations to just keep getting bigger and bigger.

Good morning Mr. Wilson.

Hello Hannah, I said to my receptionist, my favorite, a blond.

I enjoyed being surrounded by beautiful women, the downside was once I hired them, I couldn’t sleep with them. I sat at my desk and she entered, wearing a far too fitted black skirt and blouse, she always did that. She wanted attention. Women always wanted my attention.

She gave me the rundown of my day, my meetings, conference calls, things like that.  She left, walking slowly so she’d know I was staring at her behind as it moved, nearly breaking from the black fabric. I rolled my eyes and powered up my Mac. I began working on spreadsheets, basic things like that, reading emails from my accountants and other bankers. I was getting emails from my global offices

as

well

.

I worked very hard to get where I’m at. Yes, my parents were successful themselves but I earned my career. I was the one who built my company from the ground up, I make my own investments. My own self was built

without

them

.

I worked hard that day in my busy Detroit office. I enjoyed coming to this head office, because I owned from the basement up to the top floor. Everyone in that place knew who I was, they knew my story, they knew my success and that if they blinked the wrong way, they would be fired, their ass on the pavement in a matter of seconds.

I was then driven to my home, where the housekeepers had vanished, my cook was prepping dinner. I walked right to my office, going back to work until six thirty when I knew my meal would be ready.

I wasn’t surprised at the high class meal, no dishes in the sink, no mess, nothing to handle. I ate alone, reading more emails. I walked to my room and removed my tie and suit jacket. I draped them on the back of the chair so my housekeepers would collect it tomorrow morning while I was away

at

work

.

I walked into my office yet again, continuing to do upkeep on my businesses globally. I had work in Europe with my brother, to my school that I personally built and funded in Ghana and the new one that would be under construction soon in South Africa.

I went into my personal gym and began working out after some time in the office. After good time was spent there, I went to shower, letting the water pound into my neck as I stood beneath the intense pressure.

I felt bad for abandoning Emily sooner than I had truly planned on. She was a good woman; she didn’t mind my cold exterior, or working habits. She would do upkeep on her body, put in healthy things so I could get the most from it. She kept me company. But I could see in her eyes, she wanted more, she was on her way to really falling for me and that was something I could

not

have

.

I didn’t date. I would never be a boyfriend. I hadn’t bought flowers; I hadn’t brought a girl home to meet my family. I had never even bought a girl a holiday gift. I would never be affectionate, I was not gentle. I was not mean. I was indifferent to women, to their emotional selves. I wanted their body, sure, their mind was a bit nice to have a conversation with but for the most part it got me into trouble. I didn’t want anyone to care for me, and only wanted to go bed like I did tonight.

Alone.

Chapter

3

I was very exhausted but had meetings to attend. I was being caught up and briefed, then finally escaped to my office. I was sitting, taking a second to breathe when Hannah came in with

a

file

.

What? I sighed.

The top ten lists you had, you said to bring it to you on October tenth.

Ah, right, right, the schools.

She handed me the file and walked across the room, making me bite my lip at the sight of her behind. I shook my head and went over the final essays. I had posted a message on a grant website about looking into being a benefactor for one struggling public school in the state of Michigan. I thought it would be a nice way to give back, and I had a surplus of money from shutting down a business that I hated being a part of. It would have just sat in the bank otherwise.

I read through essay after essay and finally picked one that could be it. Westville High, it was about two hours from here. I paged Hannah.

‘Call Westville High and set up a meeting with Harry Davies, he’s the principal there. I would like it sooner than later please."

Sure thing, she hurried out, her heels clicking. I loved heels.

I went back to my typing and messaging countless people on countless projects. I was very frustrated with the lack of communication.

"All right, he is available any time you’d like to meet

with

him

."

Ah, wise move on his behalf. I smiled a bit. "When am

I

free

?"

She looked at a calendar in hand. Today? she smiled. "Otherwise you won’t get there for

a

week

."

Well, all right, call him and tell him I’ll arrive soon. I’m stopping home then I’ll head out. Stay until three and answer any calls, please.

Sure, she smiled and walked out. I finished up my typing and rode down my very long elevator ride. People parted easily through the busy lobby, and I was

driven

home

.

I didn’t want to sit in a car for two hours or so in a suit. I changed into my jeans that were bought by some stylist for me. I pulled on a thin blue button up shirt, rolling the cuffs properly. I brought my charger for my phone, which was always on the verge of dying, and I headed out. I got into my favorite car, my all black Rolls Royce.

Westville was a small town, built on farm land, open space, and just seeming so incredibly boring. It seemed kind of red neck if I was being truly honest. I wondered what finical distress it was in, if it wasn’t enough, I would move onto the next school.

The parking lot made me nervous, high-schoolers drove through here, they were bastardly children. I didn’t want anything happen to my car. I parked anyhow and walked out, arriving at noon. I was answering an email as I walked through the lobby.

I looked up, wondering where I should go. That’s when I met eyes with a red head. She was looking elsewhere, speaking to a blond. This girl, her eyes were incredibly bright and large, almost startling but in an abstract, beautiful type of way. Her red hair was pulled back in a golden headband, falling in waves. She was wearing a very simple T shirt, basic white, with a pair of jeans that were faded and looked old, worn out. She had on black Converse that had duct tape wrapped around the soles, to keep them going I assumed. She wore no makeup, not even mascara to lengthen her pale lashes. She appeared older than the other girls, and was wearing some kind of identification tag on her hip. I was curious.

I walked a bit, and then stopped. Excuse me? I said, all of the girls she was on the bench with dropped their jaws. Did women really think I didn’t notice such a response? I did, it was painfully obvious. They were staring; it was clear by the muddy trucks in the parking lot I was probably more put together than most of the boys in this town. I’m sure country girls were easily impressed.

Yes? to my surprise the red head spoke first, seeming... not unimpressed but indifferent.

I’m looking for Harry Davies?

Guidance office, she pointed past the lobby. "Down the hall, turn left, then right, then right again and his office is on

the

left

."

I stared, wondering why I was attracted to a girl with pale freckles on her face, and those large eyes. I needed

more

time

.

Care to show me? I’m not the... best with directions.

S-Sure, she set a juice box down, and walked in front of me, just by a few steps.

I’m Daniel Wilson. I extended my hand properly, always formal. She seemed uncomfortable, like she was hesitant. She did anyhow, with a weak grip, her hands were small.

Katie Kelly, I smiled, knowing she was joking, waiting for her real name. "I’m not kidding or fake

naming

you

."

No? That’s

her

name

?

"No, I go by Kelly or Grace, my middle name. My mom was into mythology when she

had

me

."

Clearly, are you a senior?

She smiled. "I am twenty two. I’m short for

my

age

."

You’re twenty two? I stared, very surprised. She was awfully short; I looked down at her completely. She had to tip her head completely up to look at me. She was this tiny

little

doll

.

"

I

am

."

‘Why are you in high school?"

I work here. I’m student teaching in a sociology class here, then I’m an assistant in a few other classes, and I’ll be helping coach basketball.

Oh, so you’re a senior in college?

Sadly... no, I have one more year. I got a late start to college so I’m not graduating like a lot of people who are my age. I nodded. Are you applying for a teaching position? You look too old to be a student.

I smiled a bit. I’m twenty six. I’m here to consider being a... benefactor I suppose.

What? Like your family?

"

No

me

."

What do you do for a living? she asked, starting up the hallway.

I... dabble in everything.

Ah, we kept walking, everyone was staring at me. I felt it. "Do you live in

the

area

?"

"I live everywhere. Mainly Detroit, but I live within range

of

here

."

Oh, how did you find out about small town Westville?

I posted a few things on the internet, looking for a school to benefit. I had a few thousand responses but the principle, Harry, wrote the best by far. I’m still considering if I want to help this school, I looked at the nicely painted walls, the murals, and the postings for activities. "It appears financially

well

off

."‘

Not really, they eliminated dozens of classes; athletics take a hit, the library, extracurricular activities, all kinds of things. I’m literally in every single class throughout my day here. I even graduated from this school.

I’ll look into it all. She walked around the corner and took a bit of

a

lead

.

She didn’t have the large behind I was normally into, it was rather small. I really didn’t like her height at all, too small. Mr. Davies? she spoke, poking her head in his office.

"Hello Grace, what can I help

you

with

?"

She waved me in; her black nail polish was chipped. I was a bit surprised, she just seemed... faded? Not up kept like the women I was with. Mr. Davies was a tall, older man, nearly bald. He jumped to his feet to shake my hand, knowing who held the most power in

this

room

.

Mr. Wilson, thank you very much for taking time out of your busy day to come to little ol’ Westville.

"It wasn’t a problem Harry. Katie was a

great

help

."

That she is, have a seat, please,

I gave her a casual wave, and she gave me an awkward one back. I almost smiled. I sat down after she left. He stood and closed the door, sitting

back

down

.

What information can I give you to help you choose our school?

"Do you have any finical print out that shows me the state your school

is

in

?"

Ah yes I do, he began fumbling around his unorganized desk; it made my skin crawl if I was being truthful. I began reading it over once he handed it to me, it was true, his school was struggling a

great

deal

.

"We may have to let go of our staff members, Mrs. Deppie and Mrs. Johnson. They are very loved at this school and do amazing things. I don’t want to do it, but my hands might

be

tied

."

You’ve taken a drastic pay cut yourself. I thought that was a bit admirable. Well, you have impressive test scores to say the least.

"We have a great staff, I don’t want to lose a single one

of

them

."

Very understandable. You have a great deal of programs at this school.

"We do I don’t want to cut those either. Every kid has something that makes them feel at

home

here

."

"Good thought process, I wish I could see the school, see the holes

in

it

."

Well, you met Katie, Kelly. She knows the ins and outs of this school. I’m sure she’d be happy to show you around, give you some insight.

I thought, it might let me examine her closer. Yes, she seemed friendly.

"She is, best turn around student I

ever

had

."

Turn around?

Eh she was in this office far too much her freshmen year, I still remember the trouble she caused. I remember, he laughed. She had a stack of detention slips this high, he held his hand up over his head. Now the only time I see her is in the teachers’ lounge when she’s grading papers. It’s a running joke we have between us. I think she’s in Mrs. Kelly's class, let me check.

I nodded and kept reading the overview of his school. It was just bleeding money. I felt terrible for the man. To keep certain things running that were needed, the teachers would be let go. He was in a very difficult position.  He made a call and we waited, making conversation in depth about the school. Then we

heard

her

.

"You wanted to

see

me

?"

Her voice had no sexy quality, it wasn’t low or commanding. It was soft and almost frail.

Yes, Grace, I have a favor to ask of you, come in, sit, she did, sitting near me. You know this place like the back of your hand. You help out on student council, the arts department, and you went here. You’re the perfect person to show Mr. Wilson around.

Show him around?

"Yes, he’ll be... shadowing if you will. He’ll go to your classes, and observe how our school works and decide where he’d like, if he’d like, his grant to go to this school. He could take the week, or just today, whatever he wants. What do

you

say

?"

Um... all right,

Excellent, Mr. Wilson would you like to start today?

Please,

Grace you can show him around, I’ll email the teachers and let them know why you’re not teaching, you’re supposed to teach Mrs. Johnsons class? She nodded. "I’ll

handle

it

."

Thank you, she walked out, I took a moment and shook Mr. Davies hand, meeting her in the hall.  I’m not calling you Mr. Wilson.

I was very surprised she said that to me. I hated it when people didn’t address me properly. I couldn’t believe she had the nerve to say that. I clearly held the power in this room. I was the one who chose whether who school was funded. You’d think she’d suck up. I took a breath, curious again. I was trying to pretend my skin didn’t crawl.

All right, show me around.

We’ll go, that way, she pointed down to the lobby.

So, tell me about the school, and programs, you work with athletes?

Yes, I’ll be coaching basketball and I help out with volleyball. I’m planning on helping with track in the spring.

Why so many sports?

‘I love sports."

‘Do you play any in college?"

She nodded. I couldn’t make the basketball team because I’m too short. She laughed. But I’m part of a women’s basketball club and we compete with other universities across the state. It’s a traveling league. I’m playing volleyball in school right now. I am on the college track team so I’m excited for that to start.

"Oh wow, that’s

a

lot

."

I got a partial athletic scholarship for volleyball, so, she smiled. Did you play sports in college?

Not in college, I played sports in high school though. I played a lot of soccer.

"Ah, we have that

here

too

."

What do you say about the programs?

I say... it’s frustrating because most of the schools funding goes right to the football team and other very popular male sports. The girl’s teams don’t get as much as they should. We need new basketball uniforms terribly, and new warm up outfits but we don’t get any, just the boys because they bring more money in with ticket sales.

That’s terrible.

Kind of, the school tries though.

How about the arts programs, how are those?

"In

the

hole

."

"How do

you

mean

?"

We’ll start with the drama program, I love theater. I have a double minor in art and theater education. I’m in here often. We walked down the hall of the lobby and then opened the door to the drama room. Mrs. Deppie? she called. This was the one that would possibly lose

her

job

.

"Hey Katie, what’s up? I just pulled a dress that I was going to throw out to free up space. Want to try it on before I

donate

it

?"

"Sure, Mrs. Deppie this is Daniel Wilson, Mr. Davies wants me to show him around. Tell him about the drama department for me

would

you

?"

Sure, nice to meet you, she shook my hand. She was an older woman, but warm feeling. I began asking her all sorts of questions about the theater, the costs, the play rights, things like that. She happily answered them all, and addressed me properly.

The door opened, and Katie stepped out. She was in an old style sea foam green sleeveless dress that had a high collar and intricate floral detail over her chest. She looked very beautiful, feminine, and completely different than her basic clothes she

was

in

.

"

Like

it

?"

"I love it! Do you

want

it

?"

Oh, Jenna stop trying to give me things! she shouted with a smile. Mrs. Deppie’s phone began ringing.

Oh, excuse me Mr. Wilson. She

fluttered

off

.

She walked over to me in the fitted dress. Why do people call you Mr. Wilson and not Daniel?

"I typically

prefer

it

."

"It’s stiff; I don’t even like addressing teachers

that

way

."

Stiff?

Yes, Mr. and Mrs. is so proper. I’m not into proper all the time. Maybe when I become a teacher I’ll enjoy it more. She thought aloud, clearly. "Sorry, does it bother you that I don’t address you

like

that

?"

I thought, I suppose for her, just a simple girl, it wouldn’t bother me. I wouldn’t let it bother me. She had no power whatsoever.

Shockingly enough, no, I couldn’t help but look her up and down in that snuggly fitted short dress. "You look very beautiful in that dress. Why is she getting rid

of

it

?"

Her cheeks flushed with color. She has so many new clothes from people who donate that are in better condition. The zipper is a bit broken and it doesn’t have that long to go before it falls apart. She always tries to dress me up. She took a breath. "I’ll

be

back

."

She walked out and changed. She returned with the dress on a hanger, handing it to Mrs. Deppie.

Maybe, she smiled at her. Mrs. Deppie made a face and looked

to

me

.

It was great meeting you Mr. Wilson, thank you for considering the theater department.

"Thank you for

your

help

."

See you tomorrow Grace. she smiled.

Bye,

We walked back out to the lobby, she gushed about how much she loved that teacher. How when she was in high school, Mrs. Deppie taught her. Then she brought me to the band room. After her pitch we started walking into the

weight

room

.

This is pretty decent equipment. I said, a bit surprised at how high quality

it

was

.

Yes, it is actually. It’s mainly for the football players but the school offers weight lifting as a class.

"Have you ever

taken

it

?"

Yes, back when I was in school.

I nodded.  "

What’s

next

?"

She brought me up to the science wings, where her teachers informed me of the lack of funding and their shrinking budgets to do experiments. Then she led me to her art class.

Hey, Mrs. Johnson, she called.  She’s my favorite, she said

to

me

.

Why?

"

You’ll

see

?"

Penelope! She shouted, making Katie smile. Where were you? Who’s your friend? The kids are waiting to start.

Mr. Davies should email you, I’m showing him around. This is Daniel Wilson, she instantly knew

my

name

.

"Nice to meet you. I’m Mrs. Johnson the art

teacher

here

."

"Nice to meet you, could you tell me about your budgets? What you do with

the

kids

?"

Of course! She exclaimed. Grace, go grab your pieces, come on Mr. Wilson,

She led me to a thing of couches but they weren’t just couches. They were painted on, all different designs, and then some kind of polyurethane was applied on it so they stayed. I found it amusing.

The entire art room looked like a can of paint exploded. The room screamed creativity. This is exactly what Mrs. Johnson hoped for. She was an older woman. Her brown hair strung up on top of her head. She had pens jetting out of it. She was covered in paint and in overalls. The room did drive me mad because it was so unorganized.

"The arts aren’t very well funded,

are

they

?"

Oh Lord no, she shook her head. But my kid work with what we have. We do a great deal of community outreach, just as much as any other organization. The arts are free for expression, and I know they have saved a great deal of lives at this school.

She went into depth about the budget. It was pitiful; they gave her barely anything to

work

with

.

Just so you can see what my kids can do, you go tell Penelope over there to show you her white pencil drawing. She went and helped a struggling student. I was so confused about why she called her Penelope. I walked over, seeing her sitting at a table. Katie stared up

at

me

.

She sent me here to see your white pencil drawing?

She groaned. "

Mrs

.

J

,"

"

Show

him

!"

Why does she call you Penelope? I asked as I followed her to a storage room. She began digging through a great deal of frames.

I made the mistake of telling her back in high school that my mother almost named me Penelope and not Katie. She’s called me that for years.

She’s a very... unique woman.

That’s an understatement. She’s committed to her job, spending hundreds of dollars of her own money in supplies.

"That’s a shame that they don’t fund

the

arts

."

It is, do you really want to see this piece? She asked as she held it in her small hands.  "It’s really weird. I did it

years

ago

."

I want to see. She sighed, and pulled out the large black and white drawing. I felt my lips part a bit, I tilted my head to the side. "What does

this

mean

?"

The piece depicted skeletons, dressed in human clothes all done by black and white pencils. They were large, it was a vertical piece.

The skeletons are out of the closet. We still carry our secrets.

"It looks like a photo, you

drew

this

?"

"Yes

I

did

."

"It’s amazing, what else have

you

done

?"

I’ve done quite a bit; this is by far my favorite thing to do in school.

‘Better than sports?"

Sports are a nice physical outlet, while art is an emotional one so, yes, better than sports.

"Interesting, can I see more of

you

work

?"

She nodded and walked out of the small room, I just now realized how close I was to her. I could smell her perfume. It was very different than what I was used to. The women I was with were normally closer in age to me, so it was very... older smelling? She smelled very young, like fresh freesia, some hint of berries. I pulled out my large sketch book from one of my many bins, a storage holder, and pulled a stool up for him at

my

desk

.

Take a look, I nodded, and began combing through. She was very talented; I stopped on one piece, surprised.

You’ve done male figures? I held up the charcoal piece of the male form, but it wasn’t very graphic.

Lots, I had to take a figure class this semester.

Ah, it’s a great piece.

"

Thank

you

,"

Do you only like black and white?

She tilted her head. "I think I do. The best I mean. Because... anyone can make anything stand out with color. I want to make things stand out with the two most basic colors you

can

use

."

"That makes sense. Can you draw something for

me

now

?"

Why?

I want to see you create something.

"

Such

as

?"

I don’t know your choice?

"I’ll draw you then I have to go to my seventh hour class, it’s my most

important

one

."

"All

right

,

deal

,"

She got up and returned with charcoal, flipping to a new page in her sketch book. She settled herself in front

of

me

.

Can you... tilt your head up? I did as she asked. ‘Lower your head a bit. Yet again, I did what she instructed. No, up a bit? I tried again, getting annoyed. Clearly, she was too. My God Daniel, She took my face in her hands, and angled me. I was very surprised by this, no one, ever, I mean ever touched me without my consent. People were intimidated by me. They knew better. Don’t’ move, I started smirking, who was she to tell me what to do? Now you have to keep your mouth

like

that

."

That won’t be too hard. I murmured.

She began drawing me, her hands getting messy. It was a bit surprising to watch her make something; it appeared to come easily to her. She took some time, but finally finished, shaking off the excess charcoal.

Here,

I looked, very surprised. It was excellent. That’s very good; you have a lot of talent Katie.

"

Thank

you

."

"Now, to your

seventh

hour

?"

Yes, She put away her things, and we walked down the halls. We went to a teachers lounge and she grabbed

a

coat

.

We’re going outside?

Yes, she grabbed a notebook and we started to the lobby. We left the school and started down the sidewalk. .Can I ask where we’re going?

To the middle school, she pointed across the three

parking

lots

.

What exactly do you do over there?

I’m a helper. I work with a fifth grader with autism. I have a confidentiality thing, so whatever you see here, you cannot repeat.

"How severe

is

he

?"

Depends on the day, some days he’s great, verbal, and responsive. Other days he’s loud, and screams, pulls my hair, that kind of thing. I’ve worked with him since I was a sophomore in high school. I had to stop in school until I had enough college credits but I never stopped working with him, I got close to his family. I’d come over; babysit him, that kind of deal. We’ve been best friends for years. I love him like he was my own brother.

"Why do you

do

this

?"

"I’ve worked with him for years. There is something about working so slowly with a student, and get the best pay off. It’s an amazing thing to be a part of it. The program Helpers lets high school students go over and work with them as well. I just do this because I have enough credits to student teach now and his mother

requested

me

.

"I haven’t heard of a program

like

this

."

It’s very cool, there’s about thirty kids in the program.

You’re very active in the school.

"I guess it keeps me on

my

toes

."

How is the student council at this school?

She sighed. "It’s okay, I guess. I work with the senior class, and the president is such a sweet girl. She wants to do a lot of charity works but there isn’t enough money in the accounts. But she has a pop can idea so we’ll try to raise money. It’ll

work

out

."

She seemed like a very active, very busy girl. I didn’t understand why she of all people would need to be in the principal’s office back in high school.

We finished up the five minute walk and went into the office of the middle school. She again signed something, and then we walked down tiny hallways full of colorful drawings. I waited outside the classroom; she was going to get him. I waited, leaning against the wall for a few moments when she returned.

Matthew came up to her knee; he was an awfully tiny little guy. He had messy brown hair, and green eyes. He had his arm pulled close to his chest, like he felt safe from it. One hand was laced with

Katie’s

hand

.

‘Hall? Hall? Hall? He started moaning, shrieking with joy loudly.  Ah," he started screaming, crying out at the sight of me. To my surprise, Katie grabbed my hand, and yanked me to the floor so I was at his level.

Shh, Matthew, Matthew, she finally got his attention. "This is my friend, Daniel. He really wanted to

meet

you

."

Ah? He moaned again.

I’m Daniel,

He started moaning and rocking back and forth. He was happy again. I thought he was upset, but Katie said differently, he was excited.

Shh, calm down. Let’s go do your cards, He took her hand tightly, doing a sprint down the hall. She ran with him. Do you want a chair or the floor?

He pulled on her hand, she knew what this meant right away. She dropped to her behind, her legs spread apart. He walked over and laced his arms around her neck, his body sitting on top of hers. He buried his face into her neck, and pulled on her hair. She winced, my eyes were just locked, why was she letting him do this? Why was she so patient? How was she not just yelling? I knew he had autism, but you’d think she would have done something. She gave me a nervous smile, and ran her hands up and down his polo shirt.

"Buddy boy, we have to work. I know you had a long day, but we have to

work

hard

."

Work?

"

Fun

work

,"

He released her and sat between her legs, she moved back a bit so there was space between them. There were cards with simple words printed on them, and then images that corresponded.

‘What is this?" she smiled, holding up an image of a butterfly.

Bug,

Wonderful! she cheered. But Matthew, I don’t know this kind of bug, do you? Which one is it? she pointed to three cards, the words were all a bit bigger.

That, he pointed.

Yes, now, please, say the word. It was clear this was to reinforce his speech. "Here, let’s start

with

this

,"

Butter,

"

Very

good

,"

Fly,

"Put it together

for

me

?"

Butterfly, butterfly, butterfly! he shouted.

It is! she high-

fived

him

.

They kept working; she was gentle, soft spoken, and affectionate. It was odd, I wasn’t around that. I’d never seen a teacher like that. Suddenly his attention was gone, and he began writhing a bit, his hands moving sporadically. She laid him on his back and got up, walking into a nearby room. She returned with a gray blanket. She laid it on top

of

him

.

Shh, close your eyes for a minute okay? Shh, He started calming right away. It was because of that blanket. She came over to me and wrote in her journal.

"What does the

blanket

do

?"

It has weights in it. Some children with autism need pressure to soothe them. It helps him calm. Matthew is very responsive to sensory type things.

Oh,

A few moments later, once he was very calm, she walked him to his class. Then we went back to the high school. I was drained by the interaction.

"You do that every

single

day

?"

Yes, my mom put me in the program just for that reason.

"How do

you

mean

?"

I’d ditch school, a lot, and she knew the Helpers program required us to be in school. Kids with autism tend to lean on schedules, they need structure and pattern. Once they form this pattern it’s disrupting for them to lose. I never miss school without warning Matthew at least a week in advance, and tell him every day to remind him so he adjusts.

"You don’t seem like the

ditching

type

."

Don’t judge a book by the cover there Mr. Wilson.

"

Very

true

,"

So, have you seen enough of the school or are you going to follow me around again?

"I might keep looking around. It will be randomly, I have to see when

I’m

free

."

She opened her mouth to speak as we stood outside the high school. Her eyes narrowed and suddenly a man appeared, about her age. He had brown hair that was cut short, in a cut off shirt that showed his arms and dirty jeans, pulling up in a crappy truck. He

got

out

.

Excuse me, Taylor, she raised her voice, he yanked her by the hand, speaking quietly and tensely. I walked away and watched from a distance. She was very... aggressive? Her arms were waving, eyes narrowed, and she was making faces. She was not pleased. He stormed off into the truck and sped away. She returned.

You all right?

Peachy,

I was curious of this girl. She had many sides; clearly she could be agitated, by that boy. She didn’t really behave around me like most. She was multitalented. I was very curious, still.          "Since you’re showing me around the school, do you mind showing me around

the

town

?"

Oh, she seemed surprised. After school here I have a volleyball game. The basketball season doesn’t start for some time here, when my volleyball ends I start coaching and playing myself.

What school do you attend again?

I go to Oakland University. You can come if you want, have you been to a volleyball game? I shook

my

head

.

Well, feel free. It was nice to meet you Daniel.

She headed inside and greeted a great deal of kids. I wondered if I should attend. I was a very... curious person. What could

this

hurt

?

Chapter

4

I wasn’t entirely sure what to do in this town; I had time to kill till her meet. I was very curious as to what she would look like in her athletic environment. I went and grabbed a coffee from a café, and sat in a park, doing work on my phone, making simple calls. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to donate to that school.

I arrived at the volleyball game, it was busy. I sat in very hard bleachers and saw her team come out, in blue and silver uniforms. The bottoms were tight and tiny spandex, she had on a very fitted T shirt like top that had her school’s name on the back and the number eight. She stretched her arm over her head and warmed up. Another school with blue and gold colors came out. The gymnasium was incredibly loud, cheering and yelling. I honestly wondered how such a small girl would do on a volleyball court. Didn’t you need height?

I admired her figure for a moment as she stood on a line, waiting to start. It was a habit I had. Her behind was small but present on her body. She had rounder thighs but a small torso, her chest wasn’t too small. A whistle blew and the game began. Katie hurried forward from the back line and one of her teammates sent the ball over. They were the first to score, and the game kept on going.

Mine! she screamed and jumped, her back arching, slamming the ball so hard on the other side of the net it couldn’t be stopped. I was very surprised. She came down and got symbols of approval from her teammates.

The game kept going and the outcome was in her favor, they won. After the game I found her pulling on gray sweats with her name running down the sides. I saw the pale legs, and her freckles. But they were muscular. Her hair was messy, tied up in a head band and her face

was

red

.

Katie, I spoke from behind. She spun, her big blue eyes got even wider.

Hi,

You are a very good volleyball player.

"

Thank

you

,"

I studied her; still curious as to how she worked. Each woman in the world had a game. Some women needed to be coddled, some women wanted to be left alone, other women were demanding, high-maintenance, the list went on and on and on. I wanted to

know

hers

.

Are you hungry?

I guess?

"Do you want to get dinner

with

me

?"

Daniel, I felt something inside myself jump at the sound of my name. No one addressed me like that outside of my family. "I’m sweaty, and

all

red

."

You look wonderful.

She bit her lip, her eyes wide, she seemed surprised, truly shocked. I was honestly shocked myself.

Sure,

"I was thinking the coffee shop in town may have

something

good

."

"

It’s

good

."

Great, I’ll meet you there?

Sure,

"I’ll walk you; make sure you don’t collapse

on

me

."

"

Thank

you

,"

I walked her out to her car, it was very dangerous looking, a bucket of moving bolts. I was just staring, honestly feeling some kind