LITMIR.BIZ

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woman was efficient and friendly.

      “Tell me when you need me and I can adjust my schedule pretty easily.” Calista bent over to fill out the papers. One of the perks of being CEO was she could take time off when she wanted some personal time. Not that she ever had before.

      Grant’s eyebrows went up a bit. “We’re short-staffed right now and we could really use some help in the mornings. Maybe Wednesdays?”

      “Sure, I can be here at seven.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wondered if that was too early. Maybe the staff didn’t get here until nine. But Grant only nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting the smallest amount. She wondered for just a moment what he looked like when he laughed...

      Calista’s cheeks felt hot as she dropped her gaze to the papers. Grant turned away to speak to a slim young man who was waiting behind them and Lana took the papers, glancing over them. Her eyes stopped at the employment section. “You’re head of VitaWow Beverages? I could use someone with a knowledge of grant writing.”

      “I’ve written a few grant applications but they weren’t for nonprofits. And it’s been a while.”

      “It was worth a shot,” Lana said, shrugging and stacking the papers together.

      “But I’m sure I could work on whatever you need,” Calista said quickly.

      Lana looked up, and Calista saw genuine warmth in the woman’s eyes. “That’s the spirit,” she said. “We have a grant-writing team that meets on Thursday evenings. There are only two of them right now because it’s the holiday season and everybody’s busy. It would be great to get some of these applications turned in before the January deadlines. Is that a good day for you? They might change the meeting time if you can’t come then.”

      “That’s fine. Thursday’s fine,” Calista said. Any evening was fine. Five years ago she’d been busy with the dinner-

      and-drinks merry-go-round. Once she was promoted to CEO, she cut out almost all the dinners. Of course, after she’d done so, Calista realized her schedule was completely empty. She was friendless and alone.

      “Grant is on the team, too. He can fill you in.”

      “Does the director usually work in the evenings?”

      Lana laughed, a lighthearted chuckle. “You don’t know the man. It’s all about the mission, all the time.” The smile slowly faded from her face. “I know he feels at home here, and we could never survive without him, but I wish...”

      Calista waited for the end of the sentence, but Lana seemed to have thought better about what she was going to say. She regarded Grant, deep in conversation with the young man, and a line appeared between her brows.

      “You’re afraid he’ll wake up one day and wished he’d put more time into his own life, something apart from the mission?”

      “Exactly.” She appraised Calista with a steady eye. “You’re good at reading people.”

      “I suppose I know what that feels like. And you’re right, it’s no fun.” Calista dropped her eyes to the desk, wondering what it was about this place that made her feel she could be honest. She wasn’t the CEO here, she was just a woman who had lost her place in the world.

      She turned back to her paperwork and said, “I can find my way to the cafeteria—”

      The end of her sentence was lost in the explosion of noise that accompanied a horde of children entering the lobby. They seemed to all be talking at once, the polished lobby floor magnifying the sounds of their voices to astounding levels. Just when Calista decided there was no one in charge of the swirling group of small people, two young women came through the entryway. One was short and very young, with a thick braid over her shoulder. The other was a powerfully built middle-aged woman with a wide face and large pale eyes. They were both wearing the mission’s khaki pants and red polos under their open coats. They were laughing about something, not concerned in the least that their charges were heading straight for the director.

      “Mr. Monohan!” A small girl with bright pink sunglasses yelled out the greeting as she raced across the remaining lobby space. She didn’t slow down until she made contact with his leg, wrapping her arms around it like she was drowning. He didn’t even teeter under the full impact of the flying body, just reached down and laid a large hand on the girl’s messy curls.

      A huge smile creased his face and Calista’s mouth fell open at the transformation. He was a good-looking man, but add in a dash of pure joy and he was breathtaking. She tore her gaze away and met Lana’s laughing eyes behind the desk. Of course, the secretary would think it was hilarious how women fell all over themselves in his presence. Calista gathered up the papers with a snap, when she realized she was surrounded. A sea of waist-high kids had engulfed them, with the two women slowly bringing up the rear.

      She sidled a glance at Grant, hoping he would tell them to clear out and let her through. But he was busy greeting one child after another. How he could tell them apart enough to learn their names was really beyond her. They just seemed an endless mass of noise and motion, a whirl of coats and bright mittens.

      “Miss Sheffield, this is Lissa Handy and Michelle Guzman. They take the preschoolers down the block to the city park for an hour every day.” He was still mobbed by coats and children calling his name, but his voice cut through the babble.

      Calista raised one hand in greeting, trapped against the desk, but only Michelle waved back. Lissa seemed to be sizing up the new girl.

      She stood with her arms folded over her chest, unmoving. But Michelle reached out and touched her on the shoulder. “It’s wonderful to have new volunteers,” she said, her voice warm and raspy, as if she spent too much time trying to get the kids’ attention. She smelled like fresh air and snow, and Calista smiled back. Her clear blue eyes reminded her of Mrs. Allen, her third-grade teacher. That kindhearted woman had given her confidence a boost when she was just like these little people.

      “I don’t know how you keep them all from escaping. It must be like herding squirrels.”

      Michelle laughed, a full-throated sound that came from deep inside. “You’re right. The key is to give them some incentive. They head to the park okay, and then I tell them we’re coming back, but Mr. Monohan will be here. Easy as pie.”

      Calista glanced back at Grant, his wide shoulders hunched over a little girl who was excitedly describing something that needed lots of hand waving. He was nodding, his face the picture of rapt attention.

      “He seems really good with the kids. Does he have any of his own?” She suddenly wished she could snatch the words back out of the air, especially since it was followed by a snort from Lissa.

      Michelle ignored her partner’s nonverbal comment. “No, he’s never been married. I keep telling him he needs to find someone special and settle down. He was one of the youngest directors the mission had ever had when he started here, but this place can take over your life if you let it.”

      “But that’s what he wants, so don’t stick your nose in.” So, Lissa did have a voice. A young, snarky voice, coming from a sullen face. She flipped her dark braid off her shoulder and stuck her hands in her pockets. Calista wondered how old Lissa was, probably not more than nineteen. Just the age when a girl might fall in love for the first time.

      “You’ll understand when you’re older, Lissa. But there’s more to life than work, even if your work is filled with people like ours is here,” Michelle said.

      Lissa’s face turned dark and threatening, like a storm cloud. “You always say stuff like that. I don’t think my age has anything to do with my brain.”

      Spoken like a true teenager. Calista tried to smooth ruffled feathers. “Michelle’s right that everyone needs a family or friends separate from work.” Lissa’s face twisted like she was ready to pour on the attitude. Calista hurried to finish her thought. “But not everybody is happiest being married, with a family. Like me. I don’t think it would be fair to have a boyfriend

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