Page 28 of One Night Only
But before my mouth can make the contact it so desperately wants, we’re interrupted by a horn blaring loudly from the street, an Uber idling as the driver sticks his head out the window and yells, “You’re parked in a no standing zone, ya chump!”
Dallas chortles, looking from the irate Uber driver to me. And with a slow, lingering kiss pressed to my forehead, he jogs around to the driver’s side, saluting the man as he does, before jumping into his sleek, black Lamborghini, the engine roaring to life through the silence of the night.
For some reason, he won’t pull away from the curb, despite the Uber driver’s hands flailing madly. And although I can’t see Dallas through the dark tint of the windows, I can feel his gaze on me.
Turning, I smile at Mike as he holds the door open for me, and it isn’t until I’m safely inside the lobby that I look back out through the glass to see the Lambo finally pull away from the curb before tearing off down the street. And I don’t know why, but that simple act of waiting for me to get safely inside before driving away makes my heart swell.
CHAPTER 11
EMILY
Iwatch Andy pace the length of his office, frantically dictating as he adlibs his proposed speech for tomorrow night’s charity gala. Dragging a hand through his hair, he contemplates his words, and I’m kind of in awe of just how dedicated he is to the cause.
He clears his throat. “Tonight, one-hundred-and-thirty-two-thousand people will be sleeping in one of the many underfunded homeless shelters in New York City… pause for deliberation.”
I look up, my eyes wide. “One-hundred-and-thirty-two-thousand?”
He nods solemnly. “And that’s only in shelters.” He indicates my laptop as he continues, “Thousands more will be forced to sleep on the streets as the temperature plummets to below thirty-degrees.”
I shake my head, shocked by that number, continuing to type.
“Of this, it is estimated that more than a third of those will be children.”
Andy pauses, gripping the back of his chair and closing his eyes. “Imagine, as a parent, having nowhere to go, having noother option than to sleep on the street in freezing weather, rain and snow… with a child.”
My heart sinks. I knew homelessness was bad in New York City. Growing up here, it’s always been prevalent. But the thought of there being so many innocent children forced to sleep on the streets with their parents—it’s heartbreaking.
“They say Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year, and for many of us it is. Family, gifts, food, warmth, and comfort. But for the homeless people of New York, Christmas is a time of uncertainty, not knowing where their next meal is coming from, or if they will have the safety of a roof over their head for the night.”
“I’m sorry,” I manage through a stifled sob, reaching for the Kleenex box on Andy’s desk and plucking a tissue to dab at the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes.
Andy offers me a small smile. “It’s a hard truth.”
I sniffle. “It’s easy to forget how lucky you are, huh?”
When I look up to see Andy nod at my comment, there’s something else there, a hesitation, and it piques not only my interest, but my concern. My brows knit together as I study him. “Why do you do this?”
He scrubs a hand over his chin, staring off into the distance for a moment, a faraway look in his eyes. “Because I was one of those forty-five-thousand kids.”
“Oh…” I whisper.
He nods again, still staring off into the distance. “I was young and thankfully can’t remember too much. But I remember I had this teddy bear giraffe thing. I took it with me everywhere. Hell, it wasallI had. Captain Herschel I think I called him.” He huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “We were staying at this place. Some apartment, I think. It was fucking disgusting. Smelled like cabbage and vomit, and what I now know as weed. There were people constantly coming and going. People fighting. Bad people.”
I frown.
“We got evicted, and I remember my mom crying and banging on the door, pleading with the landlord to let us in. It was all bolted up and we couldn’t get in to collect the rest of our stuff. And all I kept thinking was that Captain Herschel was inside. But I didn’t cry because my mother was so sad, and I thought if I could just be strong enough for the two of us, then maybe everything would be okay.”
I feel fresh tears prick my eyes.
Andy continues with a shake of his head, “She ended up leaving me at a shelter. Left in the middle of the night and just… never came back for me.”
“Your momleftyou?”
He nods. “It was for the best. I think she left me there because she knew I’d get the help I needed. And I did. I ended up getting adopted, and my parents gave me the best kind of life. But—” When he finally meets my eyes, a contrite smile ghosting his lips, for the first time I glimpse the pain he keeps hidden, and my heart hurts for him. “Thatis why I do what I do.”
I smile through my tears.
The thing is, when you look at a man like Andy Hoffman, in his custom suit, his designer loafers, and his expensive watch, in his sprawling corner office with walls of glass that look out over the sprawling metropolis of Manhattan, you see a powerful man with everything he could ever need or want at his disposal. To hear his story, it paints him in a new light. And I have a newfound level of respect for the man standing in front of me.
