“Fair enough. God, it feels like it’s been ages since I’ve been here,” she said as we neared the door. “Huh,” she said when I stopped.
“Huh, what?”
“I never realized how inaccessible some doors are. How are people in wheelchairs supposed to get into buildings without automatic doors?”
“Good question. But for you, that’s me,” I said, opening the door, then backing her into the warehouse.
I knew Steph had been sweating the charity, thinking the place would completely fall apart if she didn’t show up and micromanage every single day.
I had more faith in her crew of volunteers.
Sure enough, the heaters were running; people were talking to potential donors at the phone bank; a pile of wrapped toys was being moved to the completed bin.
Everyone was doing what they knew needed to be done to make Christmas for all the kids in the shelters.
“Huh,” she said again, brows pinching.
“Disappointed the roof ain’t caving in without you?”
“Yes. No.”
“Remember, you’re gone most of the day even when you are here. These people are used to knowing what needs to be done and doing it without anyone looking over their shoulder.”
“That’s true,” she agreed. “Hopefully, they are bringing in lots of money,” she said, smiling at the people on the phones.
“Stephie?” Craig called, making my fucking blood boil in just two syllables.
“Easy,” Steph demanded with a little smile, making me realize I must have snarled or something as Craig made his way over to us. “Hey, Craig.”
“What happened?” Then, to me, “What did he do?”
“He didn’t do anything. Well, actually, he saved my life. We were mugged last night. I cut my feet open. Venezio fought the attacker. And here we are. But I don’t want to harp on it. I want to discuss totals.”
Craig glanced at me, exhaled hard, and nodded.
“We got some good donations this morning,” he said, waving toward the phone bank.
Stephanie wheeled herself away.
As much as some part of me wanted to turn Craig into some fucking monster, I got the feeling the guy was just a little too into a woman who didn’t return his interest.
Could guys like that be dangerous?
Sure.
But judging by the way his shoulders slumped when Steph praised me, I felt like he was probably just going to lavish his attention on some other poor woman.
As Stephanie got the lowdown, I made use of myself, helping one of the other women organize a big pile of toy donations that had been dropped off sometime since the last time I was in the building.
By the time I was done, I nearly got rolled over by Stephanie.
“These are the brakes, babe,” I said, reaching over and grabbing them. “What’s the rush?”
“We did it! We more than did it, actually! Between the donations from the party, from the Costas, and the calls everyone has been working on the day before.
“I knew you would, babe. You wanna celebrate?”
“Um, no. I want to see if I can still change that order coming in from Jersey. I need a lot more toys!”
