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СКАЧАТЬ 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 beamed with pleasure. “Anytime, Mr. Monohan, anytime. You tell me and I cook you a big dinner. Maybe you bring a friend, too? How ’bout that nice Jennie girl?”

      Calista studied the biscuit on her tray, wishing she couldn’t hear this conversation.

      “Sadly, Mari, I don’t think there’s much future for us,” Grant said, sounding not at all sad about it.

      “Oh, no.” She wagged her finger over the glass case at him. “You let her get away. I told you, she’s a nice girl and you work too much.” She seemed honestly grieved by this new development.

      “You wouldn’t want me to be with the wrong girl, would you, Marisol? And she wasn’t right for me.” Calista glanced at him and could tell Grant was trying not to laugh, his lips quirked up on one side.

      “But how you know that when you only see her once or twice? You work all the time and the girl decides you don’t like her. That’s what happened.” She was giving him a glare that any kid would recognize from the “mom look.”

      “No, I made time for her. But it just didn’t work out.” He smiled, trying to convey his sincerity but Marisol was not budging. Finally, he sighed. “I don’t want to gossip, but I’ll tell you something she said.”

      “Go ahead,” Marisol dared him, frowning. Calista couldn’t imagine how long it was going to take to convince this little Hispanic woman that Grant hadn’t done Jennie wrong.

      “She said I was too religious.”

      Calista felt her eyes widen, a perfect mirror to Marisol’s own expression. They both stared at Grant, disbelieving.

      “Oh, Mr. Monohan. That’s bad. Very bad.” Her eyes were sad as she shrugged. “Because you don’t drink? Did you tell that girl your mama drink herself to death?”

      “It wasn’t that. And I never told her about my mother.” His words were light, with no hint of anger. He could have told Marisol to zip it, but he looked more amused than anything.

      “Well, good thing she’s gone. You tell me when you want me to cook. Maybe I bring my niece, that pretty one? She’s in college and wants to be a social worker!”

      Calista bit back a laugh at how quickly Marisol had let go of Jennie as Grant’s future wife.

      “Thanks, I will.” Grant nodded at Calista and she figured it was safe to move on.

      They got glasses of orange juice and he chose a table near the entrance. As they settled on either side of the long table, he extended his hand to her, palm up.

      She stared for a moment, uncomprehending, then remembered how her sister, Elaine, always held hands with her husband as they said grace before meals. It had made Calista uncomfortable a few years ago but she felt her heart warm in her chest now. She placed her hand in his and bowed her head. The steady strength СКАЧАТЬ