Heating Up the Holidays 3-Story Bundle(33)

“And what if we aren’t? What about our jobs?”

“We’ll be together.”

He starts the car and puts it in reverse, ending the topic of conversation, but I am the furthest thing from dismissed. I slide down into my seat and smile.

*

“We’re here,” he announces, pulling into what looks like a fancy movie theater with green neon rimming gray glass.

“This is the shelter?”

“It used to be an entertainment center with movies, games, and shops.”

“Surely it’s outrageously expensive to operate.”

“It is,” he says, and gets out of the car.

He opens my door and I step out. “I’m confused. How can the expense be good for the shelter even with donations?”

“I’ve made it work.” He takes my hand and drags me toward the door, and it’s clear, in no uncertain terms, that he doesn’t want to talk about this.

Another piece of what is becoming a Damion puzzle. I know, though, that pain isn’t easy to explore, and I won’t push him. I want him to choose to tell me in his own time, unlike the way things exploded on me.

We enter the building and it looks exactly like a movie theater, complete with out-of-date movie posters. Damion’s hand settles on my back, urging me toward a stand with people working behind it. “They even have a concession stand?”

“It provides jobs and profit for the center, and Dehlia has strict rules about what can be served on non-movie nights.” He motions me to the left. “Let me show you around. There’s a homeless shelter on the east side that usually has forty people; those residents are transient. The west side houses long-term residents—mostly teens who have no home. We find them foster homes or keep them here until they start an adult life. Right now there are thirty living here. Unfortunately, we only have room for fifty, and we take applications from outside the city when someone special is brought to us.”

“We?”

“I’m one of five people on the board.”

And I wonder how much of this he funds himself. I’m feeling fairly confident that at a minimum he’s responsible for how the money flows through the doors.

We continue walking the property, and for the next hour I am in shock and awe. All but a few theaters have been converted to a dormlike setting, and there’s a sports complex and gym on the roof.

Our final stop is a movie theater that’s been converted into an amazing cafeteria, with trays installed on the seats. There are a group of kids studying, eating, and playing video games in the corner. I turn to Damion and press my hand to his chest. “This is all because of you, isn’t it?”

“No. This is all because of Dehlia.”

I don’t miss the tenderness in his voice. “I’d like to meet her.”

He motions me to a door across the room. “Like your mother was, she’s always in the kitchen.”

We enter an industrial-sized kitchen with multiple stoves and a large table, where a short, sixty-something, dark-haired Hispanic woman stands, shouting at an employee. “No. No. No. Not enough flour!”

But the employee is not an employee at all. It’s Maggie, with her red hair piled on top of her head, and the flour that is not in the bowl is on her face. “Dehlia,” Maggie complains. “You’re killing me. Last time you told me I put too much flour. This time, not enough.”

“Two years you’ve been helping,” Dehlia says, holding up two fingers. “Dos! You still cannot read a recipe.” Dehlia seems to realize something in the air has shifted, and her gaze cuts to us. “Damion. Son.” She grimaces. “Maggie is having issues again. Are you sure she reads well at the casino?”

Maggie tosses flour in the air and Dehlia rambles in Spanish.

Damion and I laugh, and he warns, “She doesn’t take any junk. Be warned.”

“That’s right,” Dehlia agrees, dusting off her hands and walking toward us, as Maggie gives me a waggle of her fingers. “I don’t.” She stops in front of us, all five feet zero plump inches of her, and she gives Damion a hug before inspecting me, hands on her hips. “You must be Kali.”

“I …” I glance at Damion, who gives me a knowing smile, and then back at her. “Yes. I’m Kali.”

“Well, then,” she says, “give me a hug.” She wraps her arms around me. “And he’s right. You are lovely.”

My cheeks heat. “Thank you.” I gaze at him. “Thank you.”

He and Dehlia share a look. “And polite,” Dehlia says. “You were right. She has manners. Rich is looking for you, Damion. He’s got a plan to finally dethrone you.”

Damion rubs his hands together. “Let the war begin.” He leans down and kisses me. “Ping-Pong battle. You’ll be okay with Dehlia?”

Dehlia snorts. “Of course she’ll be okay. You think she’s a girl so she needs her hand held.” Someone comes in the door and says something in Spanish. Dehlia glances at Maggie. “They need help up front.”

“Oh, thank you. Let me out of the kitchen.” She quickly removes her apron and heads toward us, pausing to greet me.

“What brings you here?”

I start to mention the press release and change my mind. “Damion.”