Get to me (8th sin series, book 1)

Slacks

I gave myself an extra hour this morning, and I still managed to get lost downtown. I don't know how I even found my way to the homeless shelter. The traffic was awful; I was stuck behind a bus and a slew of slow drivers. I didn't get to have my coffee, and I was fighting the urge to quit before I even walked into the place. I don't like starting anything off on the wrong foot. And that's the way it feels this morning.

But I push forward. I open the big door to the homeless shelter and step inside. There is a long hallway with bulletin boards with all sorts of papers hanging from every one of them-- various jobs and help wanted ads. The floors are old, and a little dirty, and the place smells a bit dusty and stale.

I keep walking, and look around hoping to find someone who can guide me in the right direction.

Row after row there are tables lined up. There's a woman setting out napkins and silverware.

So I clear my throat and say, "Hi. I'm Savy. I volunteered to work here."

She lifts her head and stops what she is doing. "Hi, Savy. I am Lisa, one of the coordinators for meals and planning."

I give a wave and look around. "This is...promising."

She shakes her head. "This is a shit hole. But it serves its purpose."

Now, I just feel weird. She puts me out of my misery before I have to ask. "Jackson is in his office. The first door on the right."

I touch my hair hoping I am presentable enough in my jeans and t-shirt. I wasn't told what I should wear, but I figure if I will be serving food, casual attire will work.

I give the door three soft taps and wait.

"Come in," a strong, slightly agitated voice says.

I was expecting an older man--not the guy sitting at the desk who looks to be around my age. He pulls his eyes away from his laptop when I come in. "I am going to assume that you are Savy..." He looks down at some papers. "Arnold." And then he looks back up at me.

"Yes. I was the one who called last week about volunteer work." I step forward.

"Yes. You're the first ivy-league college student I've ever met that would rather be here than in school."

"Yeah, I understand that." I touch my hair. "I just felt this was a better fit for me at this time."

"You do know there is no pay, right?" He stands, proving to be taller than I expected him to be. And dressed a hell of a lot nicer than I am. He slips a hand into his steel gray slacks and comes from around the desk.

"I do know that. I am well aware of that, believe me."

"What's that mean?" He cocks his head, his blue eyes looking me over.

I drop my gaze and shake my head. "It means nothing."

"Let me show you around." He motions to me, and I follow him to the door.

"Sorry, I'm under dressed." I wish I would have picked the cute sweater I had in mind now.

He looks back at me. "I usually come in jeans and a t-shirt. I was at a meeting today."

"This isn't the only thing you do?"

He shakes his head. "No. My family owns a few companies as well. And since I'm part owner, I am forced to look like this on occasion."

I keep my comments to myself as we reach the kitchen. He pushes open the swinging door and invites me in.

"This is where all the food is prepared." He looks around. "I'm in the middle of finding people who want to serve it. The last guy quit when one of the homeless guys puked on him."