Chapter Three

      “You haven’t cashed my check.” The low growl on the other end of the phone set Grant’s teeth on edge.

      “I tore it up. Don’t send another because I don’t want your money.” He worked to keep his voice steady and even, but his heart was pounding in his chest.

      “You’re a fool. Or a liar. I’ve heard the mission is in big trouble. I know you need the cash.” A thick, mucusy cough followed the last word, and Grant flinched as the sound echoed in his ear.

      “I do what’s best for the mission and that would never be accepting your money. You’d always be there, trying to worm your way into every decision I make.” His voice had risen higher as anger threatened to choke him. They’d had this conversation ten, twenty times. He was sick of it.

      “You’re right. I’ll always be here, whether you take the money or not. But thanks for letting me know I need to have my accountant send another. This time, to the board.” Then there was silence.

      Grant stared into space, then slowly replaced the receiver. The board consisted of nine very respected and dedicated professionals, from bankers to business owners to pastors. All good people who would wonder why Grant wouldn’t take money the mission desperately needed for repairs and upgrades. Especially from the state’s richest man. But he couldn’t. It was tainted, stained. It was money made off the backs of the poorest of the poor. Taking money from a man who wouldn’t even provide his workers with decent health insurance was like making a deal with the devil.

      He dropped his head in his hands and groaned. Lord, I’m not asking for You to stop the sun from rising. I just want him to go away. He had his chance and blew it. Isn’t it enough that I forgive him?

      The sudden sound of a throat being cleared, loudly, brought Grant’s head up with a snap. Jose was standing in the doorway, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his thick arms folded over his chest. “What’s up?”

      “Nothing,” Grant answered tersely. Jose had the habit of appearing and disappearing without a sound. He should put a cowbell on that kid.

      “Alrighty then,” he said lightly, but his face was creased with concern. “Just wondering what you thought about the new chick.”

      Grant struggled to regain his composure, feeling like a gorilla at the zoo who just had his cage rattled. He stood up and stretched. “She’s not a chick. And she seems all right. Should be good for office help, at least. She wanted to work in the cafeteria.”

      Jose chuckled. “Yeah, that would have been a disaster. She’s so pretty the line would have taken forever. She’s like, more than the usual pretty.”

      Grant didn’t want to discuss the “new chick” but he nodded. “Yup, certainly got blessed in that department. But she seemed sort of...” His mind thought back to the tapping foot, the arms wrapped around her middle.

      “Nervous?”

      “Right. Or sad. I don’t know.” He shrugged and checked his watch. “But then again, it was probably because her car might get broken into out in the parking lot.”

      Jose’s eyebrows went up. “She has a sweet ride, for sure. But, boss...”

      “Sorry.” Grant couldn’t shake off the irritation that wrapped itself around his neck like a scarf. He rubbed a hand against the base of his skull. “I’m just on edge. True, everyone carries a burden. We’ll probably never know the whole story because after Christmas, she’ll be gone.”

      “She said that?”

      “No, but you know how it goes. Guilt sets in, they come sign up for a few meals, then January hits and they feel better about themselves so they never come back. Until next November.”

      Jose nodded. “Well, probably a good thing anyway.”

      “Why? You know something I don’t?” No matter how careful or protective he was of the people here, there would always be those who came to prey on the weaker ones. He had set up several lines of defense with background checks, personal references and lots of observant employees. But there were cracks in every fortress.

      “Nope. Just thinking she’s definitely your type.” Jose grinned and waggled his thick eyebrows.

      “That’s unprofessional,” he said, frowning. Unprofessional and unsettling. She wasn’t anything like his type. He felt comfortable with women who were reserved, even a little distant. The woman who came here today was a bundle of emotions; they flickered across her face like pictures on a screen.

      “Yeah, it is, but it’s still true. Plus, how would this place survive if you actually got a life?”

      “I do have a life. It’s just very quiet.”

      “You mean, boring.” And with that Jose popped back out.

      Grant sighed and pushed back his chair, stretching his long legs out under the old wooden desk. He was busy. He didn’t have time for a girlfriend. At least, that’s what he told himself.

      He rubbed a hand over his face. Sometimes, when it was just a little too quiet, he thought about his mother. A beautiful woman ruined by her addictions, heartbroken when she trusted the wrong person. She never stopped reminiscing over how rich his father was, how successful. It almost seemed as if she didn’t remember that he’d left her with nothing but a baby to raise. The memory of the fast cars, wads of cash and fancy parties blurred her focus, polluted her heart. The love of money was the root of all evil, right? Grant straightened his shoulders. He was never going to be sucked into that fantasy world. He was happy, right where he was.

      His mind flicked toward the image of Calista’s face, her large green eyes sparkling with hope. He wished her well. He really did. But people like that didn’t stick around places like a homeless shelter. The pull of money was too strong. And money was one thing the mission didn’t have.

      If God didn’t nudge somebody to donate really soon, and in a big way, they might not even have to worry about Christmas preparations. The mission would have to close. But he would do everything in his power to make sure that didn’t happen.

      * * *

      Calista slid her car into the open space at the parking garage behind the mission and tried to calm her pounding heart. She allowed a small smile to touch her lips as she thought of the irony of the situation. Just that morning she had brokered a huge deal with a company in Northern California. It had been months in the making and if it succeeded, their production and distribution would be on the fast track to making VitaWow a nationwide phenomenon. Before ten this morning, she was CEO to a company that was a regional star. After ten, she was CEO to a company that could be as widely recognized as Coca-Cola in just a few years.

      The