Finding Perfect (Fool's Gold #3)(4)

He stepped toward the main walkway, then made his way into the building. Unlike the inner-city schools he usually visited, there weren’t any metal detectors or even a guard. The double doors stood open, the halls were wide and well-lit, the walls free of graffiti. Like the rest of Fool’s Gold, the school was almost too good to be true.

He followed the signs to the main office and found himself in a big open area with a long counter. There were the usual bulletin boards with flyers for book drives and after-school programs. A dark-haired woman sat at a desk, typing on an ancient-looking computer.

“Morning,” he said.

The woman—probably in her midthirties—looked up. Her mouth fell open as she stood and waved her hands. “Oh, God. You’re here. You’re really here! I can’t believe it.” She hurried toward him. “Hi. I’m Rachel. My dad is a huge fan. He’s going to die when he finds out I met you.”

“I hope not,” Raoul said easily, pulling a card out of the bag and reaching for a pen.

“What?”

“I hope he doesn’t die.”

Rachel laughed. “He won’t, but he’ll be so jealous. I heard you were coming. And here you are. This is just so exciting. Raoul Moreno in our school.”

“What’s your dad’s name?”

“Norm.”

He signed the card and passed it to her. “Maybe this will help him deal with his disappointment.”

She took the paper reverently and placed a hand on her chest. “Thank you so much. This is wonderful.” She glanced at the clock, then sighed. “I suppose I have to take you to Mrs. Miller’s class now.”

“I should probably get started talking to the kids.”

“Right. That’s why you’re here. It’s been wonderful to meet you.”

“You, too, Rachel.”

She came out from behind the counter, then led him back into the hallway. As they walked, she chatted about the school and the town, all the while glancing at him with a combination of appreciation and flirtatiousness. It came with the territory and he’d learned a long time ago not to take the attention seriously.

Mrs. Miller’s class was at the end of the hall. Rachel held the door open for him.

“Good luck,” she said.

“Thanks.”

He entered the room alone.

There were about twenty young kids, all staring wide-eyed, while their teacher, an attractive woman in her forties, fluttered.

“Oh, Mr. Moreno, I can’t thank you enough for speaking with us today. It’s such a thrill.”

Raoul smiled. “I’m always happy to come talk to kids in school.” He glanced at the class. “Morning.”

A few of the students greeted him. A few more looked too excited to speak. At least the boys did. Most of the girls didn’t seem impressed at all.

“Fourth grade, right?” he asked.

A girl with glasses in the front row nodded. “We’re the accelerated group, reading above grade level.”

“Uh-oh,” he said, taking an exaggerated step back. “The smart kids. You going to ask me a math question?”

Her mouth curved into a smile. “Do you like math?”

“Yeah, I do.” He looked up at the class. “Who here really likes school a lot?”

A few kids raised their hands.

“School can change your life,” he said, settling one hip on the teacher’s desk. “When you grow up, you’re going to get jobs and work for a living. Today most of your responsibilities are about doing well in school. Who knows why we need to learn things like reading and math?”

More hands went up.

His usual talk was on staying motivated, finding a mentor, making a better life, but that seemed like a little much for the average nine-year-old. So he was going to talk about how important it was to like school and do your best.

Mrs. Miller hovered. “Do you need anything?” she asked in a whisper. “Can I get you something?”

“I’m good.”

He turned his attention back to the students. The girl in the front row seemed more interested in the pretty scenery outside of the window. Oddly enough, she reminded him of Pia. Maybe it was the brown curly hair, or her obvious lack of interest in him as a person. Pia hadn’t gushed, either. She’d barely noticed him. Not a real surprise, given how her morning had started. But he’d noticed her. She’d been cute and funny, even without trying.

He returned his attention to the students, drew in a breath and frowned. He inhaled again, smelling something odd.

If this had been a high school, he would have assumed an experiment gone bad in the science lab or a batch of forgotten cookies in home ec. But elementary schools didn’t have those facilities.

He turned to Mrs. Miller. “Do you smell that?”

She nodded, her blue eyes concerned. “Maybe something happened in the cafeteria.”

“Is there a fire?” one of the boys asked.

“Everyone stay seated,” Mrs. Miller said firmly as she walked toward the door.

She placed a hand on it before slowly pulling it open. As she did, the smell of smoke got stronger. Seconds later, the fire alarms went off.

She turned to him. “It’s only the second day of school. We haven’t practiced what to do. I think there really is a fire.”