Page 16 of Hotter 'N Hell

A local program that provided free clothes for those in need.

Threads of Love and Hope was funded and stocked from donations. I looked through their photos online and cringed at some of the poor displays. That wasn’t appealing at all. Sure, it was free, but if a young mom, with three kids to clothe, needed some help, shouldn’t she have a better option than this? A place that didn’t feel so…desperate?

Smiling, I set my phone down. I had an idea.

Six

Saylor

The wild blond hair that flipped up in messy curls all over was the first thing I spotted when I walked into Vapiano. Gathe had called to see where I was, and when I told him I’d be meeting with a lady at a clothes closet downtown, he’d asked if I wanted to have lunch. His pale green eyes met mine, and he grinned. I walked past the hostess stand and to the booth he was seated at.

“Hey, stranger,” he said teasingly.

I slipped in across from him. “That is not my fault. You’ve been busy.”

He leaned forward“You have turned down five”—he held up his fingers as if I needed a demonstration—“of my invitations to get together somewhere.”

I took the linen napkin from the table and placed it in my lap. “All five times, you were at Bane’s,” I replied. “You invited mehere. And, voilà, here I am.”

He groaned and leaned back in his seat. “How much longer are you going to do this? Halo is married to Bane. That kid is his now. And, well, Saylor, you don’t want to hear this, but you are gonna like her. I swear it.”

Eh, doubt that. And not because I thought she was a bitch. Simply because she was everything I was not. She was the bird. I was the dog. I didn’t like being the dog.

“Let’s not discuss that,” I replied. “I want to hear about something else. Something that doesn’t involve the last name Cash.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “Fine,” he conceded. “Why don’t you tell me what a clothes closet is and why you are meeting at one?”

I approved of this topic change. Seeing as I basically had no friends, I hadn’t been able to talk about it or my ideas. And since I had spoken to Sister Mena on the phone, I had spent the past five days making all kinds of outlines and graphs, drawing up ideas, and finding examples online, and I’d put it all neatly in the binder, which was currently on the passenger seat of my car.

“It is a charity that provides clothes for those who can’t afford it. They are given donations, much like thrift stores, except they give it away, not sell it, and they also receive monthly monetary donations to help stock it with new and used items,” I explained. “But right now, it just has items in large boxes, piled against the wall. There are some racks, but they have so many things crammed on them that it is difficult to look through. It is less appealing than a thrift store, and you know how I feel about those.

“I just think that if Joe off the street, who might rely on the shelter in town for somewhere to sleep, wants to come in and get a new pair of pants or a shirt, he deserves something nicer to walk into. Less degrading. If Jane, who has kids she needs to clothe and has fallen on hard times, needs some help, wouldn’tit be nicer for her to come into a place that feels clean and organized, where it’s easy to find things?”

Gathe was smiling as he took a sip of his water. “This is the trees all over again,” he said.

Why hadn’t I realized that everyone remembered that? Had it been that impressive?

“I hope it has a bigger impact than the trees. Although, now that I’ve been reminded of them, I am going to start that back up this year.”

His eyes widened. “Please, can I just give you money? Don’t make me go.”

The waitress arrived at our table. “Can I get you anything other than water to drink?”

“Sweet tea,” Gathe told her.

“Water is fine, thank you.”

“Are you ready to order?”

Gathe looked at me, and I nodded.

“Baked ziti, mushroom risotto, and Sicilian sausage spaghetti,” he informed her, handing her his menu. “Bring two plates. We share.”

She nodded and glanced at me to take my menu, then realized I’d been watching her eye-fuck Gathe. The blush was immediate, and she hurried away. I snickered and shook my head. The surfer-boy look reeled them in every time.

“Don’t hate,” he said, smirking.

I rolled my eyes. He was so full of himself. He always had been.

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