Saving Gracie (4 page)

Help me to see this situation as You see it, Father. Help me to know what I should do.

Jake wordlessly turned and began to walk toward the sales office. Pablo and Juan followed behind their boss.

“Mentor me.”

Jake stopped and looked over his shoulder at her. His expression, one eyebrow raised, one lowered, gave his answer without a word. Gracie could see it on his face. He thought she was nuts.

Well, maybe so.

Nuts about her school. Crazy about her students. She would do anything to save
El Centro.
She’d even throw herself at Jake Peoples’s feet.

She knew she needed a bold idea to save her school. Maybe she just needed a way for Jake to see that her school was more than documents in a folder at Peoples Property Group.

Gracie always felt proud of what she’d accomplished in building
El Centro.
It filled the need in her soul to help others. She took pride in what her students accomplished because of the lessons they’d learned there.

But if she didn’t make Jake see her school as valuable, next week all she’d have left was her pride.

* * *

Surely she hadn’t just asked him to be her business mentor.

Not only did he not have the time, he wasn’t about to step in and solve someone’s problems. Again.

“No. I can’t.”

“No, you can’t?” Gracie threw him a sideways glance. “Or no, you
won’t?
”

“Does it really matter?
No
still means
no,
either way.” Jake could barely explain his reasons to himself beyond the fact that he wasn’t taking on anything in his life right now that wasn’t a sure thing. This condo project was his shot to prove years of gossip wrong and he would allow nothing—not even a determined teacher with a gaze that popped into his brain with regularity these days—to stand in his way.

She took three big steps, stopping so close he could smell her perfume. Floral, with a hint of baby powder. A delicate scent, but her defiant posture showed that Gracie Garcia was not a shrinking rose.

“Yes, it does. I was told you gave your word to help me. I’ve now asked for your help. If you
can’t
help me, that’s one thing.” She met his eyes with a straight stare. The irises of her eyes deepened in color from cocoa to the finest dark chocolate. “But if you just
won’t
help me, well, then, you don’t understand what’s important in this life.”

Her words struck him like a punch to the gut. Wasn’t that almost exactly what Jenna had told him earlier? That he needed to remember the important things in life?

Nothing in his life had priority over securing his family’s future. The most important thing was being named permanent CEO of Peoples Property Group.

That meant coming up with a solution to the problem presented by Gracie Garcia, not finding her a lifeboat. She wouldn’t understand it, but he had to keep himself from drowning right now.

“You don’t know me well enough to tell me what I do or do not understand.” He roughed up a couple of pebbles under the sole of his shoe, standing his ground. “I understand that I have a business to run. And I understand I have a school to get out of my way so I can get a swimming pool for a condominium built in time to make my board of directors happy.” Frustration forced the words out of Jake’s mouth before he had a chance to think through what he was saying.

“Oh.” Her hand flew over her mouth, cutting off any further reply. She stared at him, eyes wide as the harvest moon that would sometimes hang low over the nearby Gulf of Mexico. And then, in her eyes, Jake saw the faintest accumulation of moisture begin in the corners.

“Gracie, I’m...”

“No, you’re not.” Even as close as they stood to one another, he could barely hear her whisper.

Jake reached out and placed his hands on her arms, then quickly dropped them. As his palms brushed over Gracie’s bare skin, he noticed that she felt cold, in spite of the sunshine overhead. He shouldn’t have touched her—he only wished he could reach out and steal back his chilling words. But he couldn’t. Besides, he’d only spoken the truth. This whole situation came down to nothing more than a business deal. It wasn’t personal.

But the look in Gracie’s eyes, now brimming with tears, told him she viewed things as extremely personal.

“Gracie,” Jake started. He didn’t intend to be anyone’s business mentor, but he could teach her, right now, that his actions had to do with his obligations to his job and nothing more.

“No, Jake. I don’t want to hear some fancy words you learned in a class for your MBA. When you hear
P&L
you think of a profit and loss sheet. I think of people and love.” She stepped back, putting more distance between the two of them. “I have to go to the post office. My fight for my students isn’t over. Keep your fancy schools and big-time degrees. You’re the one who needs to be taught a thing or two.”

Gracie squared her shoulders, still dotted with gooseflesh, and walked away with all the stoicism of a soldier on the front lines.

“So, first she asks me to be her mentor, then she says
she
wants to teach
me
a lesson,” Jake mused out loud, more to himself than the other two men. “Is she crazy, or something else?”

“Oh, she’s something, all right, Mr. Jake.” Juan nodded his head. “You’ll see.”

Chapter Three

A
fter the confrontation with Gracie, Jake wrapped up his afternoon by checking out some new land at the east end of Provident Island. It took him about twenty minutes to drive back into town, but Jake didn’t mind. Driving the two-lane strip of highway that ran parallel to the beach always soothed his soul.

Watching the sun sparkle on the gentle rolls of surf, he noted to himself with irony that if he wound up buying and developing the property he’d just surveyed, he’d eventually be responsible for ruining the peace and quiet he’d always loved.

His cell phone rang and Jake pulled over to answer it so he could watch the waves as he talked. Even though his task list for the week overflowed with to-dos, he wasn’t in a hurry to get back to his desk this afternoon. He needed to think about some tasks looming on the horizon, and push some other things—like Gracie Garcia—out of his mind.

“Jake, it’s Carter. We have a problem.”

What could possibly happen now? Since Carter all but assured Jake they had a done deal, Jake had watched a protest against his company on TV and been told by a pit bull of a teacher that he had a lesson to learn.

“Explain.”

“I just got a visit at my office from Angela Ruiz. She’s not happy with how things were handled with this little school. She told me she personally arranged that story we saw on KPPT last night and she’s going to arrange more coverage featuring other constituents if we don’t make this right. Jake, I’m going into an election this fall. I’m your friend and I want to see you succeed, but I can’t afford to have this be a black mark on my reputation.”

“So, last night’s news story was her idea, not the teacher’s?” Jake was surprised to hear that Gracie hadn’t pulled that together. “What do you need me to do, Carter?”

“I’m getting calls left and right today from people wanting to know why I’m helping to close small businesses. You need to meet with that teacher again. Do something. And then we need a follow-up story that’s more favorable to our side. Angela Ruiz wants to see you personally involved. Offer the teacher some help, business owner to business owner. Find a way for her to move, and you’ll be a hero.”

Great. Carter was asking him to be Gracie’s business mentor. It figured.

Jake wrapped up the call and pulled back onto the quiet highway. That peaceful feeling he’d just had moments ago flew away like a seagull chasing a meal.

One more shot. Out of respect for Carter Porter and their friendship dating back to their school days, he’d give Gracie Garcia one more shot. He hoped sitting through one night of class would help him pass Angela Ruiz’s test.

When he arrived, Juan and Pablo were just getting out of their cars.

“So, when does the class start?” Jake asked, tired of cooling his heels in a parking lot that felt more brimstone than balmy, even as the early Texas summer evening was setting in.

“About two or three minutes. Gracie will open the door as soon as she has everything ready to go. She takes good care of us,” Juan replied.

A brief snort pushed through Jake’s nose. He remembered Mitch’s words earlier today about Gracie’s organizational skills. Just as paying bills late wasn’t a good sign for a business, taking good care of your clients never included leaving them waiting in a parking lot while you did last-minute preparations.

“Allergies, Mr. Jake?” Pablo looked at him, head tilted a little to one side.

Jake forced himself to focus. “What? Oh, no, not allergies.”

“I know you’ve been away for a while, Mr. Jake, so you probably don’t remember when I was hired at the company,” Juan said. “Drug violence forced me to unexpectedly leave my home in Colombia. I knew some English, but not enough to get another job in a bank as I had back home, so I took a job as just another member of the landscape crew to support my family. By working with Gracie, I’m fluent in English. Now, I manage everything your company does to keep the properties looking great from the outside. In the middle of the night, I left everything behind in Colombia. But Gracie always believed in me and her work here at
El Centro
has helped me provide for my family here and keep others in my country safe.”

Jake tried to take in all of Juan’s story. He’d never realized that his good-natured employee had given up everything so his family would be safe from violence. Jake knew Juan was a hard worker. But he never realized how hard Juan had to work outside his job—here at
El Centro
—in order to secure his future.

He never realized that a teacher in a small school could impact people around the world.

“Thanks for sharing that with me, Juan.” Jake wanted to say more, but the sound of a clicking noise made Jake look over his shoulder. The front door started to swing open. Before he could finish his conversation with his employees, the signal for class to start swept everyone inside.

Gracie stood in the doorway. Using only her feet, she struggled to push the doorstop in firmly enough to hold the heavy, oversized door open. Juan and Pablo walked past and Gracie leaned in as though she were whispering something.

“Está bien,”
Jake heard Gracie say as he stepped inside. “Now, sit.
Sientese.
”

She pointed toward the chairs in the room, but laughed as she said the phrase. It brought a musical tone to match the wide smile on her face. He wasn’t 100 percent sure what she’d just said, but the twinkle in her eyes made it hard to look away.

“Mr. Peoples,” Gracie said, her smile dropping into an expression of shock as she noticed Jake. “What are you doing here?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. With effort, he pulled his gaze downward for a split second. “I’m here to learn more about the school.”

He couldn’t say he was looking forward to the class or the work because, well, he wasn’t. He was just doing what the City Council expected of him—an hour of due diligence to see what help could be offered. And he wasn’t about to lie about it, even if the smile on her face dropped a few inches at the sound of his blunt statement.

Remember why you’re here, Peoples,
he reminded himself
. Just check this box, then report back to Carter so he can arrange a follow-up with KPPT-TV.

“Um. Okay.” She shook her head almost imperceptibly, then turned and started to walk away from the door and Jake. “The classroom’s back here.”

Just inside the door to the left was a set of closed French doors. He looked through the delicate glass panes into the dimly lit room, Jake could make out a desk with an older, boxy computer on top, as well as some filing cabinets. That must be Gracie’s office. He looked past the “Private” sign hanging on the handrail of the staircase and assumed Gracie’s own apartment took up the second floor of the renovated two-story house.

Jake didn’t know exactly what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. The whole building appeared well-kept. As the landlord, he could appreciate that. It seemed as if time and effort had not just been merely spent, but lavished, in order to make this area into a pleasant environment.

From hearing Mitch’s earlier words, Jake never would have guessed that Gracie’s school and home would look like this. He expected at least disarray, if not some form of chaos.

“If you’d like, you may sit there.” She gestured to a blue plastic chair at the end of one of the middle tables. “Okay, everyone, go ahead and take your seats.”

Gracie moved to the front of the room and began to write on the whiteboard with a red marker. She spelled out “FOOD” in clear, neat letters.

“I know many of you work in restaurants, and for a number of you, the American dream means opening a restaurant of your own. That was the dream in my own family. My parents opened Huarache’s Café shortly after we came from Mexico. I grew up in the restaurant and learned just what hard work in a great country can bring.” Gracie nodded and made eye contact with three or four students. “In Beginning ESL, we learned basic words for food and what we do in the kitchen. Tonight, we’ll practice our English by doing a few restaurant dialogues with a partner and writing our own restaurant menus.”

Restaurant menus? Jake was no longer impressed. He could not believe his ears. This is what
El Centro
taught? Graciela Garcia de Piedra missed her calling. She should have opened an acting academy instead of an ESL school. She fooled her City Council representative into thinking
El Centro
served as some necessary educational center. Instead, here her students sat, writing restaurant menus.

“We also have a special guest tonight, local developer Jake Peoples.” Gracie pointed in Jake’s direction and he raised his hand slightly in acknowledgment. A small chorus of
“Holá”
overlapped by “Hello” carried across the room. Some voices sounded quiet and shy, others seemed louder and more confident. Their teacher may have planned menu-writing as a lesson, but at least the students were friendly—even if Jake could clearly tell they weren’t going to learn anything useful tonight.

“Okay, class, let’s get started. Open your workbooks to page forty-two.” Gracie’s slim fingers flipped the switch on an overhead projector and laid a transparency slide atop the glass plate. Watching her hands, Jake noticed that all her nails appeared short. Studying them more closely, he could see that each was chewed down to where the white tip just barely peeked over the top of the pad on the finger.

Once the students appeared ready, she began the lesson with a review of basic food and cooking vocabulary. Then, the students broke up into groups of two in order to practice dialogues from the workbook. Jake watched as everyone else at his table paired off.

He remained alone.

“Would you like to come work with us, Mr. Jake?” Juan gestured to an empty plastic chair beside Pablo.

Jake nodded. He appreciated that Juan and Pablo tried to make him feel welcome.

Participating in the exercise seemed about as exciting as microwaving a bowl of soup. He checked his watch. He couldn’t possibly stay for the whole class.

The room quickly filled with the sounds of students talking to one another. Even though everyone seemed to be taking the assignment seriously, Jake noted with some surprise that every face he could see wore a smile. They appeared to enjoy the work. He certainly couldn’t remember any smiles in mock court back in law school. Or in his economics class while he earned his MBA. There weren’t many professors at the University of Texas who brought anything other than a syllabus to class, certainly not personal relationships.

But then again, there weren’t many professors at one of the world’s largest universities who would consider menu-writing a real lesson.

The only person not smiling was the teacher. Gracie’s forehead furrowed as she noticed Jake in the corner chair. She didn’t say a word, but just kept walking briskly past him, then disappeared behind a small door in the back corner of the room. Jake nodded to himself as it clicked shut.

Just as Mitch had said earlier, Gracie appeared to be in over her head. Before Jake ever set foot inside
El Centro,
he could see that. Judging by her nervousness tonight, his first impression turned out to be absolutely correct.

Really, there wasn’t much more to observe about the center. Jake knew from a quick Google search that three churches on Provident Island provided small English as a Second Language programs. This school wasn’t anything special. When
El Centro
closed, the students could still get help on their language skills elsewhere, Jake could have his condo development and Gracie Garcia could be freed of the financial burden of running this place.

Sitting through this class had so far proven not to be a good use of his time. There was only one more box to check: getting out of here as soon as possible in a way that would ruffle as few feathers as possible. He could probably get Gracie a listing of local apartments to rent, and recommend her for a job to the directors of those other ESL programs. Surely Nana had worked with at least one of them through the Peoples Family Foundation and would make an introduction. He’d brainstorm some details back at the office and let Carter—and Gracie—know in the morning.

As Jake stood, Juan and Pablo paused from looking up a word in the Spanish-English dictionary.

“Did you change your mind about working with us, Mr. Jake?” Pablo asked.

“I think I’ve seen what I need to see for tonight.”

“So you like
El Centro, sí?
” Juan nodded at Jake. “I know Gracie has plans to do big things here. But she needs someone like you who can help her. We think it’s great you’re here.”

“I’m only here because the City Council asked me to come see if there was a way to cause Gracie as little hassle as possible before Peoples Property Group finishes the new condo project on this land.”

Juan shook his head. “
El Centro
’s still going to close?”

“Next week, barring any further complications. I think it will work out in the end for everyone.”

“Mr. Jake, you can’t do that. This place is special.” Worry settled across Juan’s heavy brow. Pablo remained silent, looking down at the table.

“There are other ESL programs in town,” Jake said. “That big church over on Fifty-Second Street offers classes. And they’d probably be happy to have Gracie’s help.”

“Mr. Jake, it wouldn’t be the same. Gracie holds classes in the evenings for those of us who work during the day. She stays open on weekends and makes sure the classes are what all of us are looking for. She makes it personal.” Juan pointed to the worksheets for the evening’s lesson. “Most of the people here work for restaurants, so Gracie makes sure that there are a lot of lessons focusing on those things. She’s created lessons just for Pablo and me, too.”

“I appreciate that you both are taking the initiative to advance in your careers,” Jake said. He admired their loyalty to the school, and the teacher who ran it. But the only thing that concerned Jake right now was showing the Peoples Property Group board of directors that he could indeed be trusted with his family’s legacy.