Wrecked (Crystal Book Billionaires) (13 page)

I was debating what to say next when he spoke.

“You wore flats.”

I looked down at my shoes. “Oh. Yeah. Well, you know, I biked here, so…”

He looked up at me, a slight smirk on his face. “Your feet were probably pretty tired after wearing those heels all yesterday morning.”

My lips pursed together as I clamped a hand on my hip. “I wore these because they look good with my outfit. And I’m used to wearing heels all the time, thank you very much.”

He only grinned wider. “But are you used to doing things in them?”

There was something suggestive about his words… or was I imagining that part?

“Excuse me,” he said, the playful tone all gone. He took a step sideways and peeked into the box right next to me. His shoulder bumped into me, and I shuffled back slightly. “Sorry.” His voice was husky and seemed to have a direct line to my groin.

I went to step farther backwards, then noticed his head turned towards mine. My heart beat picked up. His breath came out ragged and thick. I swayed on my feet, uncertain about what to do.

If he
was
waiting for me to make a move, then I needed to seize the opportunity. But if I swooped in too soon, I could jeopardize everything. All my plans could blow up in my face.

Coming up with an excuse, I reached across him and pointed at a label on one of the top box’s flaps. “What’s that?”

He looked. “That’s the address of the food bank we get our goods from.”

“Oh. Wait. Why do you have to go somewhere else to get food? Don’t people donate it here?”

“Sometimes they do. But pantries mostly get their stuff from food banks. Generally speaking, food banks have more buying power. They can provide pantries in their areas with more packages than pantries can usually raise themselves.”

“Okay,” I said, not quite getting what he meant when he talked about buying power.

I tried to think of something else to ask to prolong the moment — asking about the definition of buying power was out of the question if I didn’t want to come across as an idiot — but the silence stretched on and unexpectedly became comfortable. The heat expanded between us, wrapping the two of us up in its heavy sweetness. My eyelids fluttered of their own accord, shutting halfway as my vision blurred.

Luke’s face was less than a foot away from mine, and I could feel his eyes on my face. His exhale filled the air around us, blocking out every other sound in the entire world.

Suddenly, he stepped back. His torso turned away, hiding his face.

“I think I’ve got it here,” he said, his voice deep and rough. “Another one of our volunteers is about to come in and he can help me.”

I stared at his back. Sparks of desire popped all across my skin, making me want to cry out in agony. How on Earth could he just turn away from me like that? If the man was feeling even half of what I was, he was in excruciating pain.

“All right,” I rasped, my tongue thick and heavy.

As much as my body needed the feel of his right then, my mind was still too sharp to allow a wrench to be thrown in its mission.

Time,
I reminded myself.
He’ll warm up to me eventually.

The problem was that until then, I didn’t know what to do with myself, and I was no longer strictly speaking in the financial sense.

The rest of my shift was spent in the front area, watching the clock and waiting for people to come in and pick up their boxes. Brie hovered nearby the whole time, obviously still nervous about my ability to remember the correct order of the alphabet. Three people came in to pick up, none of them looking like I would have imagined someone in dire need would. Their clothes were clean and without tatters, and nobody looked malnourished. The only thing that gave one woman away as being poor was her bag that I knew was a knockoff Gucci the second I set eyes on it.

Luke stayed in the back room the whole morning, a middle aged guy named Montel coming in to help him halfway through. When Brie finally dismissed me, I headed to the bathroom to touch up my makeup just in case I ran into Luke and got the chance to say goodbye.

When I came back to the front room, Brie was no longer alone. The red haired woman from the day before stood there, her hands pressed against the counter. What was her name again? Teresa? Tara?

She looked even more strained than she had the first time I’d seen her, and she wore the same khakis and black polo with the name tag. Peering closer, I saw that her name was Tracey. She spared me a glance as I walked in but went right back to talking to Brie.

“You must be able to make exceptions.”

“Sometimes we can, yes,” Brie agreed. “But I’m afraid we can’t when it’s so back to back. Two days in a row, you know…”

The woman blinked fast. Dark circles sat under her eyes, making her look like she hadn’t slept at all.

“Let me give you some numbers and addresses,” Brie said, turning to pick up a little sticky notepad. She moved the mouse on the computer to wake up the screen and started clicking away.

I glanced back at Tracey, and our eyes met. Something about the look on her face sent a sharp jolt through my body. The electric shock settled like a heavy weight in my chest, weighing me down and pinning me to the floor.

Our locking gazes only lasted about a third of a second, but it left me breathless. Quickly, Tracey looked away.

“What’s up?” I asked no one in particular.

Brie glanced over her shoulder at me. “I’m just writing down some information for our guest here.”

“Do you need to pick more stuff up?” I asked Tracey.

She gave a quick nod. “Yes. My neighbor accidentally threw that whole box away.”

“Can’t we just get her another one?” I asked Brie.

Brie looked uncomfortable. “We try and ask guests to only visit the pantry once a month, Grace. Remember?”

“But she said there was an accident,” I pointed out.

Brie blinked fast. “I know,” she replied, looking sad. “And if it was next week, we might be able to accommodate. But it’s the end of the week, and we don’t have anything extra right now.” She handed the sticky note with scribbles on it to Tracey.

“Here are numbers and addresses for the Lakeside and Crystal Brook kitchens,” Brie told her. “Have you thought about going to social services and applying for immediate food assistance?”

“They closed today before I could get off work,” Tracey murmured. “And they’re closed tomorrow.”

Brie nodded. “I suggest going there on Monday and seeing if they can help you.”

“Thank you,” Tracey mumbled, staring down at the note.

She turned and left the pantry.

“That’s a stupid rule,” I announced the second Brie and I were alone.

“We have to have rules though, Grace.”

“Still,” I argued. “There’s more than enough food. God, Luke is like, worth a billion dollars. Can’t he just stock the pantry himself every day?”

Brie sighed. “It’s not a matter of there being enough. It’s more complicated than that.”

“Huh,” was all I said. Saying a situation was ‘complicated’ always felt like such a cop out to me.

“Go and get some rest,” Brie said. “I’ll see you Monday.”

“Okay. Bye.” I looped my purse strap sideways over my body so it wouldn’t come off while biking and stomped out the door. For some reason, I couldn’t help but feel extremely pissed.

The sunlight glinted off the metal of the back rack, nearly blinding me, even with my sunglasses on. I straddled the bike and started walking it towards the road, then stopped.

Tracey stood at the far end of the parking lot, next to a white pickup truck. She struggled with her keys, fumbling to find the right one. It had been the tears streaming down her face that halted me, though. My chest tightened, and a wave of nausea struck me. I wasn’t very good with comforting people, so I knew I should probably just leave her alone.

I put my right foot on the pedal, meaning to go… and yet I couldn’t. I was frozen in place, unable to move.

Maybe just telling her something simple and generic like “everything’s going to be okay” would be useful.

Climbing off my bike, I walked it over to her.

“Hi,” I said soft enough not to startle her.

She jerked anyway and looked up in surprise, dropping her keys on the ground.

“Um, I’m Grace,” I said, simply for a lack of anything better to say. “Are you okay?” It was a stupid question, of course. Clearly she wasn’t.

“Yeah,” she sniffed, bending to pick up the keys. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Okay.” I gripped the handlebars tighter, feeling extremely uncomfortable but also feeling like turning and walking away was still not an option.

I tried another tactic. “It’ll be all right. You got some addresses.”

She laughed dryly. “Yeah. I know.”

I licked my lips, tasting the gloss I’d put on for Luke. It was funny how I hadn’t even thought about him since leaving the bathroom and seeing Tracey in the front area, tired and pale looking.

“Are you upset about something else?” I asked.

She shook her head, her lips trembling. “It-it’s Saturday,” she stammered. “So I can’t go to social services until Monday.” She waved the post-it from Brie. “I guess we’ll go to one of these places tonight. And tomorrow. I’ve never been to a soup kitchen. I don’t even know if they’ll have formula for my baby.”

“Where did your neighbor toss the groceries?” I asked. “Couldn’t you just go and get them back out?”

Tracey looked at me. “That’s not what happened. I… I sold them. To pay the water bill.”

“Oh.” I had no clue what else to say.

She shrugged feebly. “We had no water. It was overdue. We didn’t even have water to drink. I thought…” She shook her head wildly. “I just thought I would find a way. I would do whatever I needed to. I was so sure I’d be able to come back here and get another box.”

“It’s ridiculous that you couldn’t,” I spit out.

“But you have regulations. I understand.”

“I don’t,” I mumbled.

She looked at my bike. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah. I only volunteer here in the mornings.”

She nodded. Her eyes were still red and puffy, and a fresh wave of tears didn’t seem far away.

“Where do you live?” she asked.

“Oh. On, uh…” I struggled to remember the street name. “On Chester Drive. I’m just staying with my aunt and uncle for a while. I’m from L.A.”

“Cool.” Her smile was weak. “I can give you a lift if you want.”

“Really?” I stared at her. Not having to bike in the sweltering midday heat was like Christmas arriving early.

“That’s near where my kids are. I have to pick them up from their babysitter.”

“Thanks.”

“Here.” She moved to open the back of the truck, and then helped me lift the bike and put it in. After making sure it was secure, she went back to the driver’s side and unlocked the door. It was an older truck and didn’t have automatic locks, so I had to wait while she opened the passenger’s side door for me.

Once in, we both rolled our windows down.

“I’m not usually like this,” she explained, buckling her seat belt. “There’s just been a lot going on lately. A lot of things changed all at the same time.”

I laughed. “Trust me, I get that.”

She smiled at me, but I could tell it was fake. Worry seemed to be written on her face.

I struggled for something else comforting to say. “But those addresses Brie gave you… they’re good, right? What are they, soup kitchens?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” She turned onto the highway and then peered at me. “You don’t know?”

“This is my first week there,” I explained.

I turned and looked out the window, watching the tufts of grass flying by and eyeing the mechanic’s yard filled with old and rusting cars. Was leaving things sitting right where they broke a thing in the South?

“Hey,” I said, a new thought popping into my head. “Can I ask you a question?”

The way I brought it up reminded me of Luke in the coffee shop the day before. He’d broached my family issues in just the same way.

“Okay,” she said, but I noticed her hands gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“Don’t you have anyone to help you out? You know, like parents or any other family who can help pay the bills?”

Tracey blinked fast and stared at the road. “No,” she said to the dashboard.

“Oh.”

So that was that, I guessed. Surprisingly, though, she went on.

“I had a husband,” she said, her voice hollow. “But he left last month… and I don’t know anyone here. My mom is dead, and I never knew my father. Trey and I moved here a few years ago.” Her words got thicker and more strained as she went on. “I have a couple friends here, but they can’t help me out. They’ve got their own stuff to deal with, you know?”

“Damn,” I whispered. “He just left? Just like that?”

“Yep,” she tartly answered.

“That’s illegal though, right? I mean, doesn’t he have to at least pay child support?”

“That takes a while.” She glanced at me and then sighed. “And I was stupid. I didn’t have a job. Trey wanted me to stay home, and I wanted to too. I wanted to be with my baby. But I should have been saving. I should have known he would leave eventually…” She choked over the last word and then fell silent.

My eyes fell down to her name tag. “But you have a job now.”

She sniffed. “Yeah, but it’s not enough. I couldn’t get anything that pays enough. I stayed at home for so long, you know? It’s not like being a mom is something you can put on your resume.”

“I guess not…” I turned away from her and back to the window. It felt wrong to watch a woman in such a fragile state.

We passed a few familiar houses, and I realized we were only a couple blocks away from my aunt and uncle’s.

“So, uh, where do you live?” I asked, trying to make the question super casual.

“On the west side of town. Near the old mill.”

“Cool.”

I had no clue whatsoever which part of Crystal Brook she was talking about. I wanted to ask about the exact street but knew I couldn’t do that.

“There it is,” I said, pointing to the state flag waving from the front porch.

Tracey pulled into the end of the driveway. “It looks nice.”