“What were you doing at five?”
“Meeting a truck. It came in earlier than we expected. Especially with the snow. Someone needed to be there to unload it.”
“Where’d the truck come from?” I asked, figuring this was the kind of shit Lorenzo wanted to know.
“A wholesale toy place. I have been really trying to find the best deals possible. There are so many kids who need gifts.”
Maybe we didn’t need to grease her palms.
Maybe I could just get her to trust me enough to letmebe the one to unload the trucks.
It was an idea to float, at least.
“We don’t have a bell or bucket?” I asked as we stood outside a grocery store.
“We have two bells and buckets. Other volunteers are out with those. Upper East and Midtown. So we just have to hustle a little hard—Hi! Would you like to donate to make sure all shelter children get a present this year?” she asked as someone walked out the front door.
“Oh, uh, sure,” the man said, reaching into his wallet to produce a fifty.
And, yeah, for a normal person, that was generous. But unfortunately for this guy, being with the Costas meant I knew my watches.
“Fifty?” I asked as Steph put the cash in her purse. I ignored her wide eyes. “That watch is worth, what, eighteen grand, and fifty is all you can do for homeless kids?”
“Venezio,” Steph whisper-yelled at me.
But the guy was already going back into his wallet, handing over another bunch of fifties and a hundred.
“Better. Happy Holidays and all that shit,” I said, taking the cash.
“Venezio, that was too much.”
“Yeah?” I asked, fanning the cash before passing it to her. “But now that’s sixteen kids getting presents instead of two.”
She looked torn at that.
“Can’t argue with results,” I added.
“Okay. But maybe just… a little gentler.”
“Not really good at kissing ass.”
“Alright. I’ll let you take the lead.”
And stand behind her and silently intimidate people until they emptied their wallets or wrote a check.
CHAPTER FOUR
Stephanie
I’d been working with the same set of volunteers since I took up the mantle of the director. I was honestly impressed they kept showing up at the cold building to spend the whole day freezing their asses off while begging for money from strangers or wrapping gifts with glove-clad hands.
And while people did stop in to drop off gifts or money, we hadn’t had any new walk-ins offering to help with the day-to-day operations. Part of that, I was sure, was because most people had to work.
So seeing someone show up and offer up their time? It was rare, generous, and desperately needed.
Even if nothing about the man who stood in the warehouse said he was the usual do-gooder.
He was on the young side compared to our other volunteers. Maybe late twenties. He was tall and had a frame I felt inclined to call ‘scrappy.’ He carried himself the way a lot of the street guys I used to know did, all swaggering confidence and forward-hunched shoulders, like he was always looking for a fight. He had sharp bone structure, dark hair, and the most unique eyesI’d ever seen—one was fully brown, the other half brown and half green.
