A Storybook Finish by Lauralee Bliss Read Free Book Online Page B

battlefield?
    Reading books in the special collections section of the university
    library? He shook his head. No, those were the things he
    liked to do. She probably enjoyed having her nails done, sitting by a pool, or shopping at the mall. At least that’s what Jeff’s older sister, Candy, liked
    to do.
    “I see you have the thermometer chart up,” Lindsay noted.
    48 “Good. This will help the students remember their goal and
    how much they need to sell to reach that goal. Today you
    should find out the first day’s totals. This will give us an idea
    of how to proceed.”
    Her business-like attitude grated on him. If he could only
    find out more about the flesh-and-bone woman existing
    beneath the cold business attire. “What exactly do you mean?”
    “I mean, if we need to give the students further incentives
    to sell more. After a few days they start to slow down. You
    want to keep the momentum going. When the weekend rolls
    around, you also want them to sell to church people, relatives,
    and so on.” She opened her leather briefcase and pulled out a
    stack of small cards. “This is where cash cards come in handy.
    I’ll leave a packet with you to show the students when they
    come to class.”
    Jeff reached for the cards. Lindsay’s fingers were long and
    slender with nails painted a juicy, ripe plum. Several rings
    dotted those fingers, but no sign of a diamond. Her fingers
    trembled slightly as they brushed his, or maybe it was his
    imagination. “What are these again?”
    “Cash cards. If the students sell five or more items over the
    weekend, they get one of these cards to scratch for cash. The
    cards come in various amounts—one dollar, two dollars, five,
    ten, twenty-five, up to one hundred dollars. Because this is an
    incentive, the teacher pays for this part of the program.”
    Jeff raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if I like this idea, Miss
    Thomas. First you want kids to gamble, which really goes
    against my beliefs. Then you expect me to cut into my profit
    to pay for it.”
    He watched a slow flush crawl into her cheeks. The defensive
    shields went up quicker than a galactic star fighter. “Mr.

49
    Wheeler, this is not gambling. Gambling is when you waste
    money on a game of chance. This is simply providing the students
    with a personal goal. They’ll work harder if they have
    the opportunity of winning cash for themselves. Let’s face it—
    we all need a push sometimes to work harder. We do better
    when we feel we are striving for something.”
    “Well, their goal is the junior prom, not extra cash in their
    wallets. If they don’t meet it, they don’t have a dance. It’s
    pretty simple.”
    Lindsay picked up the cards and put them in her briefcase.
    She stood to her feet. “I’m sorry I suggested this. I don’t
    agree with gambling, either, but I think of this as a paycheck
    for a job well done. If they sell well, they earn something in
    return.”
    Jeff frowned over the way this meeting was turning out. Not
    only had he rattled her, but he found himself turning edgy as
    well. He stood, reached out a hand, and touched Lindsay’s
    arm. She spun in his direction, with a look of surprise on her
    face. “I know I don’t have the expertise you do. If you think
    this will help them sell more, then we’ll do it. I want this
    project to succeed.”
    The jagged lines creasing her face softened at once. Her
    hand dug into the briefcase and withdrew the cards. The
    trembling fingers returned. “So you want them?”
    “Sure.” He took the cards. All at once the door to his room
    banged open, accompanied by loud voices. Jeff’s star pupil,
    Troy, walked in, followed by Jewel, who trailed him like a
    puppy dog.
    “Hey,” Troy said easily.
    “Oh, it’s Miss Thomas!” Jewel exclaimed. “We went to the
    Hickory Diner yesterday, Troy, and had a great time. I never
    50 knew teachers could be sweet.”
    “Yeah, maybe you ought to have her be a chaperone on the
    trip, Mr.