Chapter Fourteen
Aubrey kept her backtoward David, one of the new employees at the shelter. A widow, David had lost everything when the stock market crashed in two thousand and eight. His job, his house, and his confidence.
"Is everything okay, Ms. Haydon?" asked David.
"I'm fine. I was sick last night, so I'm probably still hanging on to whatever bug hit me." She slipped her arms into the sleeves of her coat and turned around. "I appreciate you working with Greg and Vic. You, Jerome, and Kenneth have helped tremendously today."
Without them, she wouldn't have had time to get to know Serge. All of her time would have been spent at the shelter. With the men here, they could oversee those who spent the night. She also found that the homeless were more inclined to listen to the men than to her.
David shook his head. "I sure appreciate what you've done for me. I never would've dreamed that someone would help me the way you and the others have."
"Did you get your resume into the employment office?" she asked.
"Yes, I sure did." David smiled.
She ensured that those working for her knew they could include the shelter's phone number and address on any job applications. It wasn't her intent to keep them working here, practically volunteering their time. The shelter served as a stepping stone. She wanted each person to find a job that would support them. They needed apartments, food, and a safety net.
Imagining Serge as a child, caring for his brother while surviving on the streets, made her more determined to help as many people as possible. If that meant providing them with a meal, a cot, and cleaning off the dirt, then that's what she'd do.
She walked into the office and sat at her desk. Her stomach churned. Last night, she had wanted to protect Serge from learning that Curt Harrington had threatened her. However, seeing powerful men discussing business provided her insight into Serge's life.
He wouldn't regard Harrington's tactics to scare her out of purchasing the building for the shelter as anything but a wise business decision.
She wasn't the same kind of person. She liked playing fair.
Serge had called every few hours through the night to check on her. She'd let him continue to believe she had a stomach bug. It was easier to tell him that than she was afraid of someone he chose to do business with.
She kicked the bottom desk drawer, which refused to stay closed. Her phone vibrated. Without looking, she knew it was Serge. She needed more time. The relationship was tender and new. She had the shelter to concentrate on.
After a few days, he'd calm down. He was smart and powerful enough not to lower himself to chase her. That wasn't his style. Pursuing her would be beneath a man like Serge, who commanded his life like a boss.
She walked out of the office and through the front doors of the shelter. After checking the street, she quickly locked the door and hurried down the block to the parking lot. Once inside her vehicle, she locked the door and pulled out onto the street.
It took her no time to travel to her house. The street was bare of any other cars except for her neighbors on the left and Mrs. Sullivan's garbage cans on the right. With keys in hand, she parked, jogged up the pathway, and let herself in. Then she locked the door. A hysterical groan escaped.
She had no reason for such paranoia. Serge had better things to do than run after her. She shrugged off her sweater. They had experienced great sex. He was a wonderful guy. They could be fantastic together, but she needed to slow down and consider how they could navigate two different lifestyles together.
They each needed boundaries, even if Serge disagreed.
She would never ask him to change for her, not after he had worked so hard to achieve such success.
She kicked off her shoes and walked barefoot into the kitchen. Her stomach gnawed. Nervous all day, she was afraid to eat after getting sick last night. Now she craved a baked potato.
Two feet inside the room, she flipped the light switch. Her skin tingled as a figure took shape, and she screamed.
Serge sat in a chair at her table. One look, and she knew he wasn't happy to see her.
"H-how did you get in here?" She sidestepped to the island, needing something big between them until she caught her breath.
"Breaking into houses is easy. Cars are even easier to jack. Try a bank...those make you think." His gaze hardened.
"God, you can't keep doing this to me." She squeezed the edge of the counter. "I'd like you to leave."
