Marry My Billionaire Second Husband - Chapter 94

Chapter 94: Hope for Scholars
Amelia should have known it was too good to be true. When she searched up the charity Emmeline had been so kind as to hand it over to her online, it seemed legitimate enough― but the small rundown building she was directed to visit at the borders of the city certainly did not scream legalized trade.

Her nose wrinkled at the smell of cigarette smoke in the air, and upon closer inspection, there were cigarette butts littered on the floor. She stormed over and stomped them out to prevent a fire hazard.

The entire office was empty.

Did Emmeline hire someone to kill her here, or was this some sort of prank? Amelia wondered, briefly regretting rejecting Matteo’s offer to accompany her to meet with the director. She didn’t want him to waste his precious time on her when it could be spent doing other important things.

Besides, it was just a meeting. How bad could things be?

Now, Amelia wanted to kick herself in the head for her own optimism. Instead, she stifled a sigh and called the director. According to the website, this charity was run by a woman named Daniella. Maybe she had gotten the wrong venue, Amelia hoped.

The phone call went through, and a frazzled voice came from the other end.

“Hi Miss Kentwood, I’m so sorry― I’m on my way there now, there’s a little hiccup― Greg, stop that right now, don’t get on the bike!” There was the sound of her panting and frenzied footsteps, as though she was running after someone, most likely the mysterious Greg.

“Is this a bad time?” Amelia asked. “Maybe we should reschedule.”

“No! No! It’s fine, it’s fine,” Daniella said hurriedly. “I’ll be right over.”

Amelia felt the slight stirrings of pity for her. She sounded like she was on the edge of her rope. “Where are you? I’ll come and look for you instead.”

“Really?” Daniella exclaimed, almost in relief. “I’m at the west end of Rathbone Avenue. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop. I’ll send you the address.”

“See you there,” Amelia said, as she heard her phone chime with a new message. As she made her way to the venue, she wondered what she was getting herself into. Hopefully, this was an exception to the way things were run.

But the niggling feeling in her gut told her she was not this lucky.

Rathbone Avenue was on the better side of the poor area, and Amelia couldn’t help but notice the suspicious glances that were shot in her direction as she walked.

She arrived at the cafe and got waved over by a woman sitting at the side, with a platter of pastries on the table. Her dark curly hair was mussed, but there was no denying the bright, relieved smile she had when she saw that Amelia had arrived.

“Miss Kentwood, it’s an honor. I’m so sorry for all the trouble that I caused you. This meal is on me,” Daniella said as she stood up and shook her hand. Amelia waved her off.

“It was nothing, but do you mind telling me what happened?” Amelia asked. “Is Greg… safe?”

At her question, Daniella deflated, like a balloon jabbed by a needle.

“Greg is… well, it’s not his first time on a motorcycle, that’s all I can say.” Daniella pursed her lips, looking like she wanted to cry. “That boy hasn’t even finished school, but his mind is full of thoughts about racing, instead of his education. I’m at my wit’s end. He’s so intelligent, but he refuses to apply himself for school!”

“Is Greg one of the students who qualifies for our charity?”

“Ye, he is one of them,” Daniella said. “But I assure you, not all of them are so rambunctious! Most of them have good hearts, but life has dealt them a bad hand. I try to help, but you can see, I’m only one person. I’m so grateful you reached out to me!”

Amelia raised an eyebrow. Her words weren’t making sense. “Wait, aren’t you technically one of Emmeline’s charities? I find it hard to believe that things would have gotten to such a state.” Emmeline’s pride wouldn’t have allowed her to portray a less-than-perfect image of her efforts.

Daniella bit her lip, and a conflicted look entered her eyes as she wondered how much she could spill. Amelia waited patiently, and eventually, Daniella began to explain.

“On paper, we are one of her charities, but Miss Emmeline has so many of them under her roster, that it’s hard for my organization to stand out from the rest when it comes to getting her attention. Also… truth be told, this isn’t an easy charity to raise money for,” Daniella confessed sadly.

“While the needy do need our help, most of them aren’t willing to play nice with rich folks like you for a handout― and those rich people aren’t happy with it. So I’ve just been handling things as best as I can. Miss Emmeline used to hand me a yearly check that I use to keep the office running and pay off debts, but she hasn’t done so for the past two years. I’m at the end of my rope.”

Amelia’s mouth fell open in surprise. It figured that Emmeline would give her a problem of gigantic proportions to handle.

“Well, I’m here now. I might not have any experience dealing with raising funds for charity, but I’ll do my best,” Amelia promised.

“That’s all I can hope for,” Daniella said, suddenly hopeful. Amelia hoped she could live up to that trust. “If you want, I can start telling you more about the work I do.”

Amelia nodded, and Daniella started to tell her about her tasks. It was similar to what Emmeline had mentioned, but somehow way more intensive. Apparently, Daniella was doing double-time as a social worker, trying to convince delinquent youth to return to school and stop causing trouble elsewhere.

“Truthfully, it’s hard to convince people to help them, when they behave like they don’t want to be helped at all,” Daniella said with a sigh. “It’s easier when the children are young― more people are often willing to open up their wallets to provide food and education for cute, precocious elementary school kids.”

“I’m sensing there’s a ‘but’ in the equation,” Amelia said, and Daniella nodded wryly.

“But when they see the teenagers we have in our program, they start to think twice about donating. I have kids in juvie, from broken homes, some are pregnant even before they turn 18… but it’s not as though I can cut them out. They deserve a second chance, and those kids, they are more intelligent than anyone gives them credit for! But it’s hard for people to see their potential if they don’t get to know them. ”

“And because they don’t know what they are capable of, they don’t donate,” Amelia guessed. There was a pounding in her head as she tried to brainstorm a way to raise funds.

Suddenly, she had a brain wave.

“Daniella, how smart would you say your teens are?” Amelia asked.

“Some of them are good enough to give those kids at prep schools a run for their money,” Daniella said, and Amelia smiled, a fervent light in her eyes. If they needed a platform to show off, then Amelia would draw all eyes in their direction.

“I have just the idea. When can I meet the kids in your program?”