Page 6 of Fated Mates and How to Seduce Them (Fated Mates #4)

They took him back out into the hallway, walking down it to a four-way, where another hallway intersected.

“This bathroom is no longer functional.” Mary pointed to a door with a KEEP OUT sign taped to it. “The plumbing isn’t right in there, either, and part of the roof failed. It’s not safe to go in there.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say the roof failed? As in, it caved in?”

“Well, it’s not quite that bad.” Mary paused. “Or it wasn’t the last time we dared to look.”

Holy shit. André grew flabbergasted past words. “I’m afraid to ask, how many functional bathrooms does that leave in this building?”

“Two.”

He stared at Mary, jaw steadily dropping. “For over forty people?”

“We have everyone on a schedule.” Mary winced. “We’re making it work.”

Yeah, no. André would get the bathroom fixed ASAP. He shuddered in horror, just thinking of how insane sharing with that many people must be.

Emma led him up the stairs and showed him the many bedrooms where all the kids slept.

There were at least two bunk beds in each room, the space beyond tight.

He saw precious few dressers, which meant the kids didn’t have much in the way of changes of clothes.

Even the blankets looked worn and thin, well past the point of needing to be replaced.

What kind of shoe-string budget had they been operating on?

André had seen group homes with even less resources than this before his family stepped in to help, so he wasn’t a stranger to witnessing poverty. He hated seeing it, though, and was glad he’d come this direction, even if he’d had less than pure motives to start.

Emma brought him back down to the main floor, and he finally came into an area with other people.

Incredibly huge, it seemed to be two rooms put together?

There were signs a wall had been knocked out to connect them.

Wait, no, it was two rooms and a porch that had been enclosed, so large you could play tennis in here, which made sense with the two long tables eating up a good half of it.

The kids were all spread out, doing some kind of craft at the table. Sewing? They were focused, but a few joked and cut up, someone had music playing, and the younger kids apparently just sewed whatever color leapt into their hands. Who knew what they were doing.

“Saturday mornings, we try to teach the children some kind of life skill,” Mary explained, gesturing to the table.

“How to sew and repair clothes, for instance. The older children take turns helping us prepare meals so they know how to cook when they leave us. It’s why Ian is so handy with things.

He was always diligent about learning useful skills. ”

The full implications of her words hit. André stared at Mary with wide eyes, his earlier question becoming clear at once.

The mysterious connection Ian had with this place? He was raised here.

Shit, why hadn’t André considered the possibility before? But wait, hadn’t Ian mentioned a father?

Mary caught his look and paused. “Didn’t he tell you he lived here for a while?”

“I…no. I just knew he volunteered here regularly.”

Mary had a peculiar expression. “Oh. Well, he was adopted at thirteen, although his poor adoptive father died last year, leaving him alone again. Most of our children who leave us don’t come back, although they do stay in touch. Ian’s our treasure, always helping us out.”

André’s heart thudded in a mournful way. The sweet, kindhearted man was an orphan? Twice over, no less. Shit. André didn’t like the idea of there being no one looking out for Ian. He really, really didn’t like it.

Well, this oversight would change soon. Not that Ian knew it just yet. André would work him around to his plans, one way or another.

For Mary, he gave a nod. “I see. I mean, he’s great; I’m not surprised he comes back here and helps out.”

The nearest child to him, a little girl who looked maybe ten, turned to look up at him. She was incredibly cute, with a gap-toothed smile and the purest light green eyes he’d ever seen.

“Are you Ian’s friend?”

André immediately dropped down to her level, sitting on his haunches. “I sure am. I came to see how everyone is doing. I’m André. What’s your name?”

“Ava!”

“Nice to meet you. Hey, Ava, I got a question for you. If you could ask for anything, what would it be? Any toy, for instance.”

Ava thought about it for a second before blurting out, “Paints!”

“Yeah? You like art?”

She nodded vehemently, beaming.

Mary put a hand on his shoulder. “No, André, don’t worry about that. We’ll be more than grateful just to have the repairs on the building done.”

André stood again and shook his finger playfully. “I’m sorry, I’m my mother’s child. I don’t know how to do anything by halfway measures. Let’s do this.”

He pulled his briefcase around and took out the folder with the paperwork. “You go do the paperwork to make all this official. We’ll discuss how much you actually need in a minute, but does a million a year sound about right? Just give me a ballpark.”

“A mil-million—” Mary staggered in place, nearly falling.

André wasn’t sure how to take her reaction. Was his guess off by that much? “No? I don’t know what your operating expenses are. Should I go higher?”

Emma sounded like she had swallowed a lung the wrong way as she squeaked out, “It’s nowhere near that much! André, are you sure you can afford this?”

“Sure. It’s about half the budget I’m supposed to spend on a charity. I do have another one I support, but it doesn’t take up the whole budget either.” André paused, considered, and looked around the room. Specifically the kids.

Not one of them had a decent outfit on. Most of them wore clothes far too big, without a doubt hand-me-downs, and all faded past the point of any return. His mother would have been horrified and immediately gone into a shopping frenzy.

This wasn’t solely about Ian anymore. André’s heart hurt looking at this situation. Knowing he had the means to fix a lot of it, he couldn’t just not help. Might as well do it with style.

He pointed to a desk at the front of the room. “Sit. Do paperwork. I’m going to talk to the kids.”

Mary and Emma had to support each other as they staggered for the desk, but they took the paperwork. By the time they reached the scarred desk, they’d overcome their shock enough to act giddy.

André left them to it and clapped his hands, gaining the attention of teens and toddlers alike.

“Hey, guys! I’m André. I’m Ian’s friend.

I’ve come here to help you guys, and I need you to tell me what you want, yeah?

I’ll get to know all of you eventually, but for now, help a guy out.

You, little miss sunshine with the ponytail.

Yeah, you. Grab some paper and pass it out to everyone, please.

Hey, buddy, you help grab pencils. All right, everyone have pencil and paper?

Cool, here’s your task: I want you to write down three toys you want. ”

At the word “toys,” there was a buzz of excitement and smiles.

“We get toys?!” Ava demanded, almost squealing.

André shot her a wink. “You get more than toys, princess. After you write down toys, tell me your favorite color to wear, and if you know your sizes in clothes, write those down. Now, last part. Tell me your favorite animal or character. It can be Iron Man, dinosaurs, whatever you like.”

One of the older kids, who looked maybe five years younger than André, raised a tentative hand. He seemed a bit distrustful, but he spoke politely. “Why do you need to know all that?”

“Well, I’m going to be doing a lot of shopping for all of you later today. I want to buy things you’ll like.” André counted off things on his fingers. “New clothes, but also new bedding for all of you. Yeah?”

Ava scrambled over and hugged him around the waist. “I like you.”

André leaned down and patted her on the head, grinning. “Girls always like me. I spoil them. That probably has something to do with it. Who’s still learning how to write?”

Three small hands raised tentatively from different areas of the room. André gestured them in closer. “Come to me, and I’ll help you. Everyone else, ready, set, write!”

André plopped down right there in the center of the room, took out a notebook and pen from his briefcase, and settled in.

One of the little boys climbed into his lap like he had every right to do so—he was maybe three, so he probably thought he did—and the other little boy and girl scooted in close to sit at André’s side.

It was adorable. André was smitten with them already. Especially when they looked up at him with such large, wondrous eyes filled with hope. They probably hadn’t had true hope in a while.

Damn, what a depressing thought.

André shook it off and focused. “All right, buddy, you first. What’s your name?”

His soft young voice sounded both wistful and excited. “Kit.”

“And Kit, what’s some toys you want?”

“Blocks!”

“Be more specific, my man. We talking wood, LEGO sets—”

He gave a little bounce in place, eyes wide with delight. “Legos!”

“Right on. I loved LEGO sets as a kid. I’m right there with you.”

André continued prodding for answers, writing them down, making sure he marked which kid requested what. They were all excited about the new stuff, and he heard more than a few kids conferring with each other, working out who would ask for what so they could share toys.

André had this feeling he was going to empty a toy store on their behalf. He wouldn’t feel the slightest bit guilty doing it, either.

The door from the hallway opened, and the kids inhaled in excitement. It brought André’s head up and around.

Ian stood framed in the doorway, mouth slightly parted, staring down at André as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. He blinked, rubbed one eye, and stared again.

Ava promptly got up and hugged him around the waist. “Ian! Ian! Your friend is going to buy us toys!”