Season of Joy. Virginia Carmichael
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as if the scene wasn’t unusual at all.
“Those are Savannah’s glasses. She never goes anywhere without them. He’s sure got a silly side,” Michelle said, chuckling. “But you’d never know it at first glance.”
No, you wouldn’t. Not with that frown and the serious gaze. As if he could feel her looking at him, Grant glanced up and she saw the smile slip from his face. Calista felt her heart sink. Then again, she wasn’t here to get a boyfriend or find true love. She was here because her life had become a self-centered whirlpool of ambition, with her swirling around at the bottom like a piece of driftwood.
Grant seemed to come to some kind of decision. He waded through the kids until he was standing next to them. “Miss Sheffield, it’s almost lunchtime. Why don’t you come in for something to eat and then I can introduce you to the kitchen staff?”
Calista darted a glance at Lissa. The teen probably thought Calista had been angling for an invitation all along. But she couldn’t resist jumping at the chance to get to know this man better. She nodded quickly and he turned toward the far side of the lobby.
“Is there a kid version of catnip? If there is, you must be stuffing your pockets with it.”
“Nope, I just listen to them. It’s funny how many people forget that kids need someone to hear them,” he said, his words serious, but a grin spread over his features.
At that moment, as they stood smiling at each other, the other side of the cafeteria door swung open and nearly knocked Calista off her feet.
“Watch out! You shouldn’t stand in front of the door,” an old man shouted at her as she stumbled, struggling to regain her balance.
“Duane, please keep your voice down.” Calista could tell Grant was angry, maybe by the way his voice had gone very quiet and dropped an octave or two. “Are you all right?” He reached out and rubbed her left shoulder, which had taken the brunt of the impact.
She nodded slowly, distracted less by the pain than by the warmth of his hand. “Fine, not a problem.” Meeting the old man’s eyes, she was surprised to see such animosity reflected there. “I’m sorry I was standing behind the door.” When both sides were at fault, it was always best to be the first to offer an apology.
But if she was hoping for reciprocation, it didn’t come. He blinked, one eye milky-white while the other was a hazy-blue, and sniffed. “You’re still standing here and I gotta get through.”
Calista moved to the side immediately and let him pass. As they walked through the doors into the full dining hall, she glanced back at Grant. “Off to a good start, don’t you think?”
Again that warm chuckle. She could get used to hearing that sound, even if she couldn’t get used to the way it ran shivers up her spine.
“I think we’re off to a great start,” he said, and something in his tone made her look up. His smile made her heart jump into her throat and he stepped near. Although she knew the whole cafeteria was watching behind them, she couldn’t tear her gaze from his.
Calista watched those blue eyes come closer, her heart pounding in her chest. Her brain seemed to have shorted out somewhere between the shoulder rub and the chuckle.
Grant leaned forward, his gaze locked on hers, and then he looked directly behind her. “Scan it twice, please. She doesn’t have her guest pass yet.”
Calista blinked and turned to see him holding out a security badge with a small photo in the middle. A pretty young woman sitting at a small table took the badge without comment and passed it twice through a card reader. Her dark eyes flicked up and down Calista’s outfit, then handed Grant the security badge.
“We use visitor passes to keep track of how many meals are served,” he explained.
“I see,” she said in a bright tone, but clenched her jaw at her own stupidity. Was she so lonely that any good-looking
man caused her brain to shut down? Did she think he was leaning over to kiss her, in the doorway of the mission dining hall? She was so angry at herself that she wanted to stomp out the door. Except she had vowed to do something useful. Which did not include mooning over the director.
She stood for a moment and gazed around at the dining hall. It was much bigger than the lobby and had an assortment of elderly, teens, women, men and what seemed like a hundred babies crying in unison. The noise was horrible but the smell wasn’t bad, not even close to what she remembered from “mystery casserole” day in grade school. The rich scent of coffee, buttery rolls, eggs, sausages and something sweet she couldn’t identify made her mouth water.
“I haven’t eaten with this many people since college.” She peered around. “Is there a cool kids’ table?”
He grinned. “Sure there is, but I don’t sit there.” He led her forward to the long line of glass-fronted serving areas. “Here are the hot dishes. We try to keep it as low-fat as possible. Over there—” he pointed to a wall that held row after row of cereal dispensers “—are the cold cereals and bowls. The drinks are self-serve, at the end of the row. Milk, juice, coffee, tea, hot chocolate. We don’t serve soda anymore.”
Calista nodded. “I see that trend a lot.”
“In schools? I’m sorry. I didn’t catch what you do.”
“I’m the CEO of VitaWow.” She felt her cheeks heat a little at the words and was surprised. She was proud of her job, of how she’d turned the company into a national brand. But standing here, in this place, it didn’t seem as important.
She watched his eyes widen a little. “I’ve heard good things about your company. Didn’t the city honor VitaWow with a business award?”
“Best of the best.” She liked saying the words, and couldn’t help the small smile. “I’m proud of our product and our commitment to health. But I also care about our employees. We have excellent benefits and give every employee a free pass to Denver’s biggest fitness center.”
He smiled, and she was struck once more by the difference it made. He seemed like a friend, the kind she wished she had.
Calista nodded.
“Our main goal is to provide a safe place where people can fill their spiritual needs. But we also want to make sure the people have healthy food that gives them a good start to the day.”
He lifted a tray from the stack and handed it to her. “I don’t recommend the hash browns but the breakfast burritos aren’t too bad.”
“I like having a food guide.” A quick peek at the hash browns supported his opinion. They were soggy and limp. The metal serving dish was full, proving the rest of the cafeteria avoided them, too.
He moved down the line behind her, sliding his tray along the counter. “If that’s a job offer, I have to warn you that I have great benefits here. Unlimited overtime, my own coffee machine, a corner office with a wonderful view of the parking lot.”
Calista couldn’t help laughing as she spooned a bit of scrambled egg onto her tray. “Sounds like my job, except I have a view of the roof of the building next door. And lots of pigeons to keep me company.”
A short, wiry woman smiled at him as he reached for a biscuit. “Mr. Monohan, is good to see you having breakfast. You have to eat and keep strong.” Her softly curling hair was covered by a hairnet and she wore a brightly colored apron that was missing one large pocket in the front.
“Marisol, this is Calista Sheffield. She’s a new volunteer.”
Calista hoped the emotion that flickered over the lined face was curiosity, and not skepticism. “We can always use more of those, eh, Mr. Monohan?” The thick accent was a bit like Jose’s but more lyrical, as if she was more used to singing than speaking.
“We sure can. When are you going to cook me some of your arroz con pollo? I’ve been dreaming of it all week.”
Marisol