Creep - Jennifer Hillier [63]
What the hell had happened to Tom Young? He was surprised that the paperwork hadn’t arrived—the kid had seemed bright. Morris had been impressed by him, had liked him because he’d made him feel one step closer to his estranged son.
He scrolled through his e-mails until he found the one Randall had sent him a few weeks before. Not giving himself a chance to chicken out this time, he hit REPLY and started typing.
Subject: Re: Favor
Dear Randall,
Hope this e-mail finds you well, wherever you are in the world. I was thrilled to hear from you, even if it was due to a business matter. I was going to respond earlier but I kept overanalyzing what I would say (you know me).
By the way, I gave your friend Tom a hearty recommendation. HR hasn’t received his résumé yet, so would you remind him to send it in no later than tomorrow?
My home and office numbers are the same. Your old man would love to hear from you.
I miss you very much.
Love,
Dad
Morris hit SEND.
Exactly three minutes later, he received a reply. That was quick. Excited, he clicked on the new e-mail.
Subject: Re: Favor
We’re sorry, but this e-mail is undeliverable for the following reason(s):
SENDER ADDRESS UNKNOWN.
CHAPTER : 21
Ethan couldn’t stop staring at the woman with the flaming-red hair.
He’d served her chicken and peas twenty minutes ago and hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind since. Her disheveled appearance did nothing to minimize her beauty. Petite, with creamy skin and a spatter of freckles across her nose, she was distracting as hell. The irritated homeless man waiting for his chicken sighed impatiently. Ethan slopped a thigh and a drumstick onto his plate to get rid of him.
Ethan’s groin stirred just watching her eat. He could only imagine what that fiery hair would feel like bunched up in his fists. If only he weren’t so tired. Abby wasn’t volunteering tonight, and it would be a shame not to take advantage of the opportunity. With Sheila locked away from the world and Abby at work . . .
Oh, the possibilities.
A small boy approached Ethan’s station clutching a clean metal plate with dirty fingers. The kid’s short hair was unevenly cut and there were hollows under his eyes. Stopping in front of the food, he held his plate out. His eyes wouldn’t rest on Ethan’s face longer than a second before darting away.
Ethan scooped up a chicken thigh and dropped it onto the kid’s plate. Across the room, the redhead was picking something out of her teeth. She caught Ethan looking and blushed. Interesting. She couldn’t have been homeless for long if she still cared about her table manners. The deep rose in her cheeks made her look prettier, sending a ripple of desire through Ethan’s body.
The boy was still standing in front of him, so Ethan ladled up a portion of peas.
“Actually, could I just have some extra chicken instead?”
Ethan put the spoon down and eyed the kid in disapproval. Skinny, with big teeth that would need braces in another year or two, he looked as if he hadn’t eaten in days. “Didn’t your mother tell you beggars can’t be choosers?”
The boy’s ears colored. “My mom’s dead, but thanks for the words of wisdom.”
Ethan grinned. Spunky little shit. He couldn’t have been older than ten, but it was hard to tell because he was skeletal under his stained sweatshirt and jeans. He might very well have been a malnourished twelve.
Ethan placed a chicken drumstick on the boy’s plate. “That enough or you want more?”
“More, please.” The boy’s voice was quiet and he seemed to be thinking hard about what he was going to say next. Finally his chin jutted out. “And I’m not a beggar. The food is free for anyone who’s hungry. At least that’s what your sign says out front.”
“Does it, now?” Ethan said, amused. He gave the kid two more drumsticks. Reaching over to the other station, he grabbed a plastic cup full of cherry Jell-O. “Here, dessert. So what’s your name?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Just making conversation. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“Is that another old-man saying?”
Ethan couldn’t help but