A Bride for the Holidays by Renee Roszel

Author:Renee Roszel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

LASSITER could not believe he was spending Christmas day in a neglected, inner city residential neighborhood. The building the Celestial Sisters homeless shelter occupied was an abandoned elementary school, built in the early nineteen fifties. The wood floors were worn but clean, the institutional walls enlivened by murals of smiling, dancing children in sunny meadows, brimming with flowers—clearly more an effort to lift spirits than to exhibit artistic genius.

The “gymtorium” served as the heart of the facility. It was there that residents slept in bunk beds in a barracks-like setting. Women and children were quartered on the stage behind a cloth barricade, while men bedded down on the main level. Lodgers had access to bathrooms and showers, as well as the school’s cafeteria, where his Christmas dinner had been parceled out to vagabond diners.

He hadn’t had a bite of his favorite appetizer, a savory lobster cheesecake, sliced and served with a Creole-spiced tomato-tarragon coulis. It disappeared as briskly as his visions of the ideal magazine shoot he’d planned for today, along with the succulent roasted turkey that nobody on earth could prepare as well as his chef, André. Not to mention the delicious wilted spinach salad with its warm andouille sausage dressing. To top off his Christmas feast, he’d requested André’s ambrosial banana cream pie. At least, he’d seen a few pieces of it being enthusiastically consumed—from a distance—as hordes of homeless strangers filled their bellies with his food, along with donated dishes from local churches, businesses and other individuals.

Lassiter’s job had been to hand out meal tickets and paper cups of steaming coffee to those who had waited in line for hours outside in subfreezing cold. He’d never realized that some people who came to homeless shelters to eat actually had homes, but couldn’t stretch their budgets all the way to the end of the month to buy food. He’d also been surprised by how many of those waiting in line for a seat and a meal were little kids. Some hadn’t even had gloves. Seeing those chapped, red, shivery little fingers, he wished he had more than hot coffee to hand out.

For years, when he’d made donations to the United Way, he’d never thought about the human element of homelessness, that there were actual children out there who didn’t have adequate food, shelter or clothing. “A little self-absorbed are we, Dragan?” he muttered.

“Having fun?”

The din of voices from the packed cafeteria tables, along with the constant clank of silverware, had masked Trisha’s approach. He turned away from the door to face her. No new arrivals had come in since six-thirty, fifteen minutes ago, so he had a feeling his ticket taking duties might be drawing to a close. “I wouldn’t say it’s been rip-roaring hilarious, but I’ve got no complaints.” He was startled to realize he really didn’t.

She smiled at him, and he noticed again how naturally pretty she was, even with the little crook in her nose. “I hope you’ll still feel that way in a minute,” she said.

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