Heating Up the Holidays 3-Story Bundle(37)
I stiffen instantly, hoping the man and woman aren’t part of the very large staff. “Stop acting like we’re doing something wrong,” Damion chides when they get off on the next floor.
“I can’t help it.”
“Baby, I’m not trying to be arrogant, but I’m damn good at my job. The people who matter know it, and they want to please me because I please them. Profits talk and I deliver.” The doors open and he laces his fingers with mine. “Stop worrying, or I might have to tie you to my bed and torment you as punishment.”
“If that’s motivation to stop worrying, it’s not working.”
“How about I won’t tie you to my bed and torment you if you keep worrying.”
I perk up. “Much better.”
Once we’re in the parking garage, Damion holds the passenger door of his BMW for me. “We should talk about your car.”
I hesitate before I get in. “I have money set aside. I need to go buy one.”
“We’ll go this afternoon.”
“Oh, no. I’m going alone.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I have a Ford Escort budget, not a BMW budget.”
“Exactly why I need to go with you.”
“No.” I get into the car and he shuts me inside.
“No?” he asks, sliding into the driver’s seat.
“No. In fact, I think I’ll turn my rental in and wait on buying a car I’ll probably never drive. I can buy one when I need one.”
“We’ll talk about it.”
“No. We won’t talk about it.”
“We’ll talk about it.”
“Ask me again in six months.”
He cuts me an incredulous look. “Six months? This is Vegas. Six months is a lifetime to me. Two weeks.”
“Three months.”
“Christmas.”
Christmas? Will we be together at Christmas?
“Yes,” he answers, as if I’ve spoken it out loud. “We will be together at Christmas and long after.”
“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?”