Page 53 of Reckless
Ava darted a lightning-fastoh reallyglance in Alex’s direction, which—knowing her everything-on-the-table attitude—he probably should’ve seen coming. But thankfully, before Ava could put her curiosity to words, Rachel leaned in from the bar stool next to Ava’s.
“Ohhhh, you’re the chef, right?”
Cue up Zoe’s comfort zone. She said, “I am, but how did you know?”
“Cap brags. Alot.” The redhead pushed all the way forward, a grin on her face. “I’m Rachel. I’m on the ambo with the wordsmith over there.”
“Nice to meet you, Rachel.” Zoe laughed, dodging the crumpled up bar napkin O’Keefe winged in the other paramedic’s direction. Alex grabbed the opportunity to run the length of the table, finishing the introductions with Crews and Jones.
“Hey,” Alex said, swiveling an assessing gaze from the jukebox on the wood-paneled wall to his left to the outward curve of the bar at the back of the place before settling on the far alcove housing a pair of pool tables and the bathroom on the right. “Are any of the squad guys here?”
Crews took a sip of his beer before shaking his head. “Oz said he already had plans. You know how he is. And Andersen is at home with his twins, but he told me to tell you ‘hey.’”
“Wrangling a set of five-year-old twins is definitely fair game in the good excuse department,” Alex joked.
Rachel nodded, leaning toward Zoe with obvious interest. “So, Zoe, you’re a chef. That must be a pretty cool job.”
Zoe smiled, her ease clearly growing. “It is, although it’s a lot different than I thought it would be.”
Ava gave up a knowing nod. “My brother is a pastry chef. He runs his own bakery out in the Blue Ridge with his wife. Makes the most ridiculous Linzer cookies you’ve ever tasted,” she said, running an appreciative hand over the spot where her dark red shirt covered her stomach. “What restaurant are you working at now that you’re back in Fairview?”
“Ah,” Zoe started, her brown eyes going wide over the verbal stutter-step. She pressed her lips together, and Alex’s hand found her shoulder of its own free will, offering up a quick squeeze.
“Zoe’s running the new soup kitchen down at the Hope House transitional shelter. I’ve been doing my community service there.”
The words brought looks of curiosity to everyone’s faces, and both the gentle nudge and the interest seemed to bolster her resolve. “We opened the soup kitchen three months ago, just after Christmas, although the shelter itself has been there for just about two years now. Hope House has about seventy-five beds on the residential side, although we do our best to feed everyone who comes in hungry and in need.”
“Damn.” Cole slipped out of his seat to grab an empty nearby bar stool, making room for Zoe in the middle of the long, communal table. “That sounds like a hell of an undertaking.”
Smiling her thanks, she sat down between him and O’Keefe. “Truthfully, it is. I only have enough of a budget to pay two part-timers, although they volunteer a lot of their own time to make up for the holes in the schedule. Between only being able to afford a skeleton crew and trying to scrape up enough food to go around, we’ve really been having a lot of trouble covering all the bases.”
“Great cause, though,” Jonesey said, and Rachel nodded in agreement.
“Tom and I go on a lot of med calls down in that part of the city. The living conditions are pretty challenging, and the high drug activity doesn’t help.”
Zoe shot a tentative look in Alex’s direction, but his nod of encouragement was a total no-brainer. “There’s a lot of potential danger in the area around Hope House. I want to apply for a pretty substantial grant that will help us feed and take care of everyone more easily, along with putting some security into place to keep them safe, but with the shortage of hands, well…” She paused, her deep breath straightening her spine with determination that Alex was fast becoming addicted to. “I need help if I’m going to have any prayer of getting it.”
Cole sat back against his bar stool, his perma-relaxed expression tacked firmly to his face. “You know, I’ve got some community service coming up,” he said, and even though his words were completely no-big-deal, they still peppered Alex’s gut with unease at the way his friend had landed the hours in the first place. “I bet I can ask to do my hours at Hope House, if you think it’ll help.”
“Anyone volunteering at this point would be a huge help,” Zoe said, and Brennan tipped his chin at Cole, chiming in.
“I’m game to volunteer. I kind of miss working in a kitchen, and anyway, you don’t want these chuckleheads in charge of anything culinary unless they’re heavily supervised.”
“Trust me.” Alex laughed, toasting Brennan with the frosty cup in his hand. “She knows.”
Zoe lifted her cup to meet both of theirs, her eyes brightening with amusement as she admitted, “While you definitely don’t need a lot of experience with food in order to volunteer, if you’ve got some, it does help.”
She launched into a basic explanation of Hope House’s meal schedule and volunteer services, with everyone at the table offering to pitch in and help with either food service, kitchen work, or a bit of both. Their server brought a jumbo-sized plate of hot wings to the table, and Zoe kept track of the growing list of volunteers as they all ate, putting everyone’s contact information into her phone.
“You know,” Ava said, tapping a finger against her bottom lip. “It sounds like you’ve got your physical resources covered with these guys for the next few weeks. But have you ever considered different avenues for gathering reserves?”
Alex’s curiosity perked, and he wasn’t the only one.
“Like a food drive?” Zoe asked, the edges of her lips twisting downward at Ava’s nod. “I tried one right when I first started out. But my reach only extends to the people who need the food, and I’ve had my hands so full with the basics of getting everyone fed that I simply haven’t had the time or the people to effectively spread the word about a food drive, much less coordinate drop off points and pickup schedules.”
“You do now.” Ava flipped her cell phone into her palm, tapping it to life with a few quick touches. “I’m a reporter with theFairview Sentinel. If you’d be willing, I’d love to run a personal interest piece on both the shelter and the soup kitchen. We could spotlight the services Hope House provides and talk up a food drive while we’re at it.”
“You would do that?” Zoe’s lips parted in surprise, but Ava’s fingers didn’t even slow as she answered.
