Privilege (Renzo + Lucia Book 1)

by Bethany-Kris

  But that didn’t stop Lucia from wondering. She was only human, after all. And her first thought was not to ask what had caused the women to end up here at the shelter, but rather, how she could help.

  She was never more aware of her privilege than in that moment. She’d been born rich and to fairly good parents. Society had already given her a hand up by way of both a mother and father in a stable home. She wasn’t one of the ones who would get kicked when they were already down.

  That’s not how it worked for people like her.

  Right now, that was obvious.

  “And since the kids are gone for the day,” Laurie continued, opening the steel double doors that lead into another section of the shelter, “now is a better time to let you see the daycare.”

  “You know, that’s what had me most interested about this place.”

  Laurie smiled over her shoulder. “I noticed you mentioned it in your application to volunteer. Do you like children?”

  “I’ve actually never been around a lot of young kids,” Lucia admitted. “I’m the baby of my family, so someone always felt like they needed to take care of me. I just thought it was interesting that the shelter has managed to run a daycare here alongside everything else they do, so it was an interest of mine.”

  “Well, you’ll get lots of practice with the littles while you’re here.”

  Lucia had to smile at the way the woman called the children who attended the daycare littles. “I look forward to it. You said earlier that the shelter daycare takes kids from low-income families around the area, too?”

  “We’re allowed to have four children per adult. Typically on any given day, we usually have five paid adults and five volunteers. The daycare has two sections—one for four and under. One for five and up. We don’t take kids older than twelve, either. But yes, that allows us to take forty children which we try to divide between the two age groups. At the moment, we only have twenty-nine children in the shelter with their mothers, and not all of them need the daycare on a daily basis. Some have made other arrangements, and some are still in the process of finding a job or getting prepared to go out and look for a job.”

  “That leaves a lot of space open.”

  Laurie stopped at a second set of double doors with colorful flowers and small handprints painted on the window. “It does. I found we usually have about ten open spots, and knowing this area like I do, because I grew up around here, there are always more people in need than what we see. I put out word that the shelter daycare was going to be taking children from morning until evening, Monday through Friday.”

  The woman leaned against the doors, and her gaze drifted over the hallway where cubbies had been set up with a row of small closets. Each one had a rack for shoes, and a small hook to hang a tiny coat.

  “I knew by not putting it in the paper, we wouldn’t have an influx of those who really didn’t need it. Instead, I told a select few who would pass the word around to those who might not otherwise be able to afford daycare for their kids, and were barely scraping by with the arrangements they had. Some of those probably weren’t safe. I made it a first come, first served sort of thing to allow those who truly needed a safe space for their children while they went out to work, or whatever was the case. Come that first Monday, the eleven spots we had open were filled within fifteen minutes of the daycare opening.”

  “And that was it?”

  Because that sounded like a way for people to abuse the system, really. Lucia wasn’t exactly rude enough to say it out loud, of course, but she could think it. If all someone needed to do was get up early enough and arrive at the shelter before anyone else to get their kid into the daycare, then anyone could do it. Not just those who really needed it.

  Laurie laughed like she knew exactly what was going through Lucia’s mind without being told. “We have a file on each child—those from within the shelter, and those who come into the daycare from the outside. A questionnaire has to be filled out, and everything a parent or guardian puts on it has to be validated or confirmed in one way or another.”

  “Things like what?”

  “Residency. Job situation. School. Whatever the case may be that causes the person to need the daycare. We also want to make sure this isn’t just a drop off for people who don’t want to see their kids for the day, you know? I get needing a break from your kids—I have three teenage boys of my own—but that’s not what this place is. But having the open spots in the daycare does help the community, so despite the logistics that we have to keep up on, I do allow it to continue.”

  Lucia nodded. “I get it.”

  “Good. You’re going to be a great addition here, Lucia. And I’m sure it’s going to look great in your portfolio, as well.”

  She couldn’t hide the cringe that flitted over her lips at that statement. Laurie wasn’t wrong. The shelter would look good on her portfolio to the kind of people who would never matter to the people who needed to use this shelter. But to people like Lucia who needed as many good marks on her portfolio as she could get to show a board of people who someday might decide whether or not she was good enough to join their ranks—be it for furthering her education, or a job—then this volunteering gig for the shelter would certainly be great for that.

  That was only part of the reason she was here. Another part of it was her need to have a little bit of freedom before she finally went off to college later in the year.

  But right now?

  Lucia was thinking she needed a dose of reality. She was so sheltered in her life that she’d never even had to think about what happened to people who weren’t as fortunate as her. She’d never once had to consider anything other than getting good grades. Her parents would take care of the rest.

  “It’s not about the portfolio,” Lucia said as the woman opened the doors to the main section of the daycare, “I want to be here. I’d like to help.”

  Laurie let out a quiet sigh. The sound reminded Lucia of the one her mother would make whenever her older brother apologized for doing something wrong, and promised not to do it again when he still lived in the house. As though their mother wanted to believe John, but history proved different things.

  The woman gave Lucia a look as they stepped inside the daycare. “I sincerely hope you keep that attitude once you really get started here. It seems like one thing when we’re operating during quiet hours. It’s quite another when the place is full, we’re at capacity, and people are knocking on the doors asking for help.”

  Lucia blinked.

  What could she say to that?

  Nothing seemed appropriate.

  “Hi, Laurie!”

  The soft, boyish tone drew Lucia’s attention away from the shelter’s manager, and instead to a little boy she hadn’t even noticed was inside the daycare. He sat at a small, circular table in a tiny chair meant for children with a crayon in his hand as he colored what looked to be a purple and blue cat. Beside him, a woman typed something out on her phone before she slipped it into the bag at her side.

  “Diego,” Laurie replied, a wide smile splitting her lips. “How are you, buddy?”

  “Good. I made my cat purple and blue.”

  He was the sweetest thing, Lucia thought. Big, dark russet eyes and pink-tinged cheeks. His dark hair curled at the ends like they could use a trim, but he looked terribly sweet with the longer hair, too. He was still small enough that the backs of his knuckles had dimples. They matched the ones on his cheeks when he smiled, too.

  For some reason, Lucia thought the child looked familiar, but she didn’t know why. There was no possible way she’d met him before, but it felt like it.

  Diego chattered on, and scribbled his crayon against the paper as Laurie looked to the woman sitting beside him.

  “Late again?” she asked.

  The woman shrugged. “I didn’t mind sitting with him.”

  “Still, he knows the rules.”

  “Is my brother coming soon?” Diego asked suddenly, his sweet face poppi
ng up expectantly.

  Laurie shot the quiet woman a look. “I thought the mother—”

  “You know he rarely asks about her.”

  Lucia didn’t know what the two women were talking about, and she didn’t feel like it was her place to ask, either. Not that it mattered. Laurie had other things for Lucia to handle, it seemed.

  “Listen, you can get a good look at the daycare tomorrow, Lucia,” she told her. “Could you finish up those papers for me, get them all filled out, and drop them off at the front before you head out for the evening?”

  “Sure,” Lucia murmured.

  “Great. Tomorrow—six sharp.”

  “You got it.”

  Lucia shot one more look over her shoulder as she exited the daycare, and found Diego was staring after her and smiling. He waved one chubby hand as if to silently say goodbye. She waved back.

  • • •

  The Cartier watch on Lucia’s wrist had just ticked past nine o’clock when she finished filling out the papers with her signature on the final line. Beyond the usual info that she had already provided to the shelter, these papers had just been a recap of policies and things that she needed to agree to adhere to while she volunteered at the shelter.

  Things like appropriate behavior, no substance abuse, and other details that didn’t even cross Lucia’s mind on a daily basis. She had found the relationship policy rather interesting, though. Volunteers and workers were, under no circumstances, allowed to become romantically involved with the women in the shelter.

  She wondered how many times that had needed to happen before someone decided to make a policy about it? And just how effective was said policy?

  Shuffling the papers into a neat pile, Lucia scooped them up from the counter she’d been using as a makeshift desk, and headed into the hallway. She was reading over the papers to make sure she hadn’t missed anything when she first heard his voice.

  God knew she hadn’t expected to ever hear it again.

  Maybe that was why heat shot through her body as her spine stiffened like someone had shoved a rod through it. It was confusing, and disconcerting that someone’s voice could make her have that kind of reaction.

  Lucia brushed it off, and picked up her steps to head for the front of the shelter where she needed to drop off her papers. And where that familiar voice was coming from.

  Angry and bitter, the noise picked up as she rounded the final corner.

  “I apologized, didn’t I?” he demanded.

  “You know that’s not the point, though.”

  “I get it—I was late.”

  “It wasn’t even supposed to be you picking him up today, Renzo. It was supposed to be your mother.”

  Lucia came into the main reception area of the shelter in just enough time to see Renzo’s gaze flash with fire as he shoved his fisted hands into the pockets of his jeans. His jaw was stiff—like something strong and sharp carved from marble. If not for the scowl etched on his lips that kept twitching like he was trying to hold back words, she thought he might have been a statue.

  Cold, and beautiful.

  Despite knowing whatever was happening near the entrance doors between Renzo and Laurie was none of Lucia’s business, she couldn’t help but peek over her shoulder as she approached the desk. The woman there seemed to be doing an even better job at minding her own business as she took the papers from Lucia without ever acting like there was a whole very loud argument happening just a few feet away.

  Lucia was not that good.

  She dared another peek over her shoulder. Standing directly behind Renzo with a blue backpack on was Diego. He stared up at the scene in front of him with his tiny brow knotted in confusion. It was plain to see the tiredness in the child’s eyes. How old was he? Maybe four, but he couldn’t be any older than that.

  Lucia briefly wondered if the little boy was Renzo’s son, but then she remembered what Laurie had just said. Their mother was supposed to come and pick up Diego. So, a brother, then.

  “She can’t be counted on, clearly,” Renzo said dryly. “I will make sure—”

  “This is the fifth time this month that someone has been late picking him up. I even held the spot last week in the daycare for him because I knew you were dropping him off as you’d called ahead to let me know.”

  “Listen—”

  “No, you listen, Ren,” Laurie countered just as fast. “I know he needs a safe place to go in the day time, so you can … do whatever it is you do. It is only because you were able to provide a statement from your mother showing you take care of the majority of the child’s needs that I even allowed him a spot here without confirming other things that everyone else who gets a spot has to prove, Renzo. But I can’t keep stretching rules for you when you can’t even follow the basic policies of the daycare.”

  Everything about Renzo’s posture screamed defensiveness. Lucia wouldn’t even have needed to hear him speak to know that just by looking at him.

  “He’ll be picked up on time,” Renzo muttered through a still stiff jaw.

  Laurie sighed. “You have one more chance. And no more calling in for me to save the spot, either. He either gets here on time, or you don’t get it.”

  Renzo sucked air through his teeth, and his gaze swung down to his little brother who had come to stand by his side. It seemed that just by seeing the look of worry on little Diego’s face, Renzo quickly fixed his scowl and offered a smile to the boy. He tousled his hand through Diego’s hair, and winked.

  “Is that understood?” Laurie asked, breaking the two brothers’ moment.

  Renzo let out a grunt, but didn’t take his attention away from his brother. “Yeah, I fucking got it.”

  Laurie only sighed again. Renzo gave the woman one last burning look before he bent down to scoop Diego up to carry him out of the entrance. He’d never even seen Lucia, or so she thought, but she had seen him. That was more than enough for her. She couldn’t begin to explain the strange desire in her chest that made her want to follow him just so she could speak with him, but it was there.

  It grew with every passing second.

  Every breath.

  Lucia wasn’t even sure why. She didn’t know anything about Renzo except the fact he worked for her brother, and that didn’t mean good things. She’d literally watched her brother give the man money, and Lucia wasn’t so young or stupid that she didn’t know what her brother did for a living. Like every other man in her family.

  And John basically said it, too.

  Renzo was bad news.

  The streets made him.

  Yet, all Lucia could think was that the only difference between what Renzo did to get by and what her family did to make their money was the fact they dressed better than he did. So, she really didn’t see the difference.

  And besides, right then, all Renzo had looked like was a young man struggling and at the end of his rope. That made her chest ache for reasons she couldn’t explain.

  “I think that’s all, Lucia, thank you,” the woman behind the receptionist’s desk said. “We’ll have your identification card and everything ready for you here at the front tomorrow. Okay?”

  Lucia blinked back into reality fast. “Okay, thanks.”

  By the time she turned back around, Laurie was already gone from the entrance. Probably back to her office, but who knew for sure. It was only the phone buzzing in her pocket that took Lucia’s attention away from the doors for a second. She answered the phone as soon as she saw her father’s name flashing on the screen.

  A lie was already on the tip of her tongue, too.

  “Hey, Daddy,” she said, “something came up at the shelter, so I might be a little late. That’s okay, right?”

  Lucian chuckled on the other end. “All right. I was just calling to see if you were going to drive yourself home, or if you wanted someone to come get you because I figured you might be tired.”

  “I’ll drive.”

  Right after she spoke with the man who just left.
r />   Yeah, right after that.

  FOUR

  “Can I come back?”

  Renzo glanced down at his little brother. Diego’s big, worried eyes stared back at him waiting for the inevitable answer he figured was going to come. It sucked that at only four, his brother was already figuring out the world was not made for people like them. He had to learn far too young that disappointment was really the only thing he could count on.

  Fucking hell …

  God knew Renzo was trying to change that for his brother. He’d managed it for his sister, in some ways, and Diego was next on his list.

  The thing was, the daycare was something Diego enjoyed. He had made friends with some of the other kids who attended, and the adults always kept him busy with some new activity each time he attended. He looked forward to going to the daycare a lot more than he did staying with the chick down the block.

  Getting kicked out would break his heart.

  Renzo wasn’t going to let that happen.

  Bending down to one knee on the sidewalk, he was eye-level with his little brother once he leaned forward a bit. Renzo grabbed hold of Diego’s shoulders, and squeezed just tight enough to give his brother the feeling of a hug.

  “I promise, you can come back,” Renzo said.

  Still, it felt like a lie on his tongue. He was going to try his hardest to make sure Diego didn’t lose his spot. He’d guarantee that if not him, then someone else would be here every single day to pick the kid up even if he had to pay someone to do it.

  Diego shifted the little backpack on his shoulders, and held tight to the straps. “You’re sure?”

  “Do I ever lie to you?”

  His little brother shook his head.

  Renzo grinned, and patted the boy on his grinning cheek. “Exactly, no. Besides, they like you too much in there to kick you out, right?”

  That really had Diego lighting up.