realize we’re all just a paycheck away from homelessness. I try to stay very mindful of that.”
“I know what you mean. Putting a little money aside for emergency situations is something many of us fail to do.” Benjamin scratched his head. “Well, I guess we’d better get back to work. It’s close to the dinner hour and the outside lines for meals and a bed are already forming.”
Benjamin went on his way and Laylah resumed her duties.
Laylah still had a lot to do before the doors were open for meal service and bed assignments. Those seeking shelter were only allowed to stay on one night at a time. The patrons had to line up and then sign up each day. The hardest part of the process for Laylah was when someone was turned away once they ran out of beds. There were referral places they could send folks to, but other agencies had the same procedures in place. No matter how she viewed things, it was still rough emotionally for everyone.
Once Laylah put away the cleaning products, she slipped into the bathroom, where she thoroughly washed and dried off her hands. After changing into a clean smock that covered the upper portion of her body, she headed for the kitchen. Meal service would begin in about five or ten minutes. Once the doors were open, the place could get busy as a beehive until everyone was served and later assigned a bed for the night.
All smiles, Laylah began filling sectional plastic plates with food and handing them out to those in line. Everything was running smoothly, which wasn’t always the case. It could get pretty noisy inside the dining room and many times hot arguments ensued, the majority of them born out of sheer frustration and a low tolerance.
Benjamin was normally great at quieting things down. However, he had failed to restore calm a few times that she could recall with crystal clarity. The police were called in on those rare occasions, but no one had ever been arrested. More than anything, most of the patrons were just happy to have something to eat and a place to lay their heads.
The next guy in line had Laylah doing a double take. His dark hazel eyes were strangely alluring. Although he appeared somewhat disheveled, his clothing was cleaner than most. The slightly shaven appearance he wore actually looked good on him. His dark, curly hair was a bit long, lacking any sort of style, but it wasn’t dirty and straggly. From what she could actually see of his physique, he appeared to be in darn good shape.
Laylah suddenly felt the weirdest sensation right in the pit of her stomach, a totally unfamiliar one. Why’d she suddenly feel like she’d met this guy before?
The moment she realized she was blatantly summing up a homeless guy, she felt so embarrassed. The color of her humiliation was noticeably reflected in her cheeks.
“Thank you,” he said in a deep voice after she handed him a plate of food.
The man’s deep tone had surprised her, turning her on in the process. That she was attracted to his sexy voice also embarrassed her. “You’re welcome.” As the man moved on through the line, her eyes followed him, as if she had no control over them.
“Lady, can I please get served? We don’t have forever here.”
At the intolerant sound of the loud male voice, the color in Laylah’s cheeks deepened. She couldn’t help wondering if he sensed she’d lusted after the man served before him. God forbid, she thought, too embarrassed to make eye contact with the older man as she handed over the plate. Glad that the little shameful ordeal was over, she vowed to keep her mind on serving food versus being of service to some sexy stranger.
Thirty minutes later, as the line began to thin out, Laylah knew they’d already served more meals than they had the previous night. By stacking plates in groups of twenty-five, she was able to keep track of how many patrons were served. Paper cups could be accounted for in the very same manner even though people often used more than one.
With no one else standing in line, Laylah once again retrieved her cleaning tools. Her daily routine was to clean each table once it became empty, rather than cleaning them all at the end of meal service. As soon as the dining room was put back in order, she’d join Benjamin up at the front area of the shelter to assign beds.
Second Chances could accommodate up to thirty-two people a night.
Because Laylah had gotten herself involved in an interesting conversation with Bud Wilkes, one of the shelter’s regulars, she was a tad late getting up front to help out Benjamin. All new patrons had to fill out a personal-information form, which she thought was ridiculously silly, especially since it requested an address and phone number.
If the homeless had addresses and phones, they wouldn’t be seeking out shelters.
There were four guys filling out information forms, including the one Laylah had been somewhat intrigued with. She was very interested in reading what he’d put down, hoping the information might give her a few clues about him. What had led up to the patron becoming homeless? It was one of the most important questions on the form.
Stealing covert glances at the man she was slightly smitten with made Laylah feel awkward, but she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off him. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn’t pinpoint it. She had the craziest notion that he had been quite a success story before his downfall into homelessness. She even thought his situation might be an excellent story to write, though she didn’t know any of his circumstances.
As far as Laylah was concerned, every person, homeless or otherwise, had an interesting story to pen. She couldn’t recall all the provocative stories she’d written on people who had once led a normal existence, yet had had a very powerful story to share with others.
As Laylah quickly assessed the situation, her heart broke. There were only three beds left, but the line was still quite long. Unfortunately, it was part of her task to turn the others away. She hated to be the bearer of bad tidings. Saying she was sorry for turning someone away just wasn’t enough, but there was nothing else to tell. The long, sad faces always tore at her heartstrings. In the first few months of volunteering at the shelter she had cried all the way home. She still hadn’t quite come to terms with all her emotions.
While she passed out a list of other shelters, she felt as though someone was staring hard at her. As she turned around, her eyes locked with the ones that had intrigued her earlier. His dark hazel gaze pierced her soul, making her wish she could’ve met him under different circumstances. What was it about this guy that had her heart beating so hard and fast? Why was it so easy for her to imagine him dressed to the nines and looking every bit the corporate raider? Why did he have such sexy, expressive eyes?
Once she handed the newcomer a list, she had a hard time hiding how sorry she felt for turning him away, especially since he had been the very next person in line.
He briefly touched Laylah’s hand as she turned to walk away. Her obvious emotional state had rocked his soul. “This job’s really tough on you, isn’t it?”
Surprised by his question, Laylah lowered her lashes, nodding. “Very hard.”
“You seem to take it personally when turning someone away. I just need you to know I understand. I don’t take it personally.” He eyed her with genuine concern.
“Thank you for that. It means a lot to me. By the way, my name is Laylah,” she said, pointing at her name tag.
“You’re welcome. And I’m Chancellor. Everyone calls me Chance,” he remarked, extending his large, smooth-looking hand to her, his fingernails clean as a whistle.
Chancellor’s
