“I’ve got to change Syd McCallister’s mind about the grants, Mel. There’s no other choice. I missed the deadlines for a lot of other grants, and they aren’t funding again until next year. We’ll be sunk, even if another fund picks us up then. I’ll have to find a new place and start all over.”
“I’ll talk to the tenants when they come down to study,” Mel responded. “A lot of them have jobs now. They could help keep things going until more money comes in.”
“They’ll want to, but their part-time jobs help pay for college and food. I’m sure there isn’t much left over. I can’t charge rent. That’s the whole point of this place, to give them a chance to have a safe home while bettering their lives.” Matt ran his hand over his hair, probably messing it up, but not caring.
“Times are tough, but these people are strong. You know that.”
“Yeah,” Matt agreed. “I do know. Okay, I’ve got to get going. Don’t tell anyone about the money troubles. You know some of them are only clean and sober because they’re here. If they get stressed, they might decide it isn’t worth trying anymore and go back to drugs.”
“I won’t say a peep. We lose some of them that way without added stress, so I don’t want to push them over the edge.”
He was happy to help the junkies, get them on a good path, but they had to keep their noses clean or get out. Matt had a strict policy on drugs and alcohol, and anyone wanting a spot at New Beginnings signed a contract. They had one chance and one chance only. There were plenty of others clamoring to get the two-year safe haven and college education Matt’s program helped them get. Stressing them out would only make the drugs all the more tempting.
With the families and war veterans, that was very rarely a problem like it could be with the single folks, which was one reason Matt tried so hard to seek those groups out and get them into an apartment. They were also usually willing to tell him if someone on the premises started using, since they didn’t want to live in a drug house. It made the whole operation run smoothly.
In the past four years, Matt had so many success stories that even the occasional failure was worth it. This place was doing a lot of good for people. He had to get the McCallisters to help keep it running.
“Cross your fingers, Mel. I’ll be back in a while.”
* * *
Sydney hit the delete button on the voicemail box before Matthew Coleson’s next message said more than his name. That man was certainly persistent. Several disgruntled people had called while she was out at the island, bitching that they didn’t get a grant, but none of them called ten times.
The next message started. “This is Matthew Coleson again—”
Punching delete, Sydney shook her head. “Eleven, huh? What a lunatic.”
Finally deleting the last message, Sydney decided to update the charity’s web page with a special message for people like Matthew Coleson. People need to know if they weren’t picked, calling the office and hounding her would only make it less likely their proposals would be chosen the following year.
“Like that Matthew person,” she muttered. “Never giving you any money, sucker.”
She was tired of all the threats and rude things said by some of the ones passed over for McCallister money. It wasn’t as if she liked telling people no, but there was only so much to go around. She’d been called horrible names and received a death threat or two, but no one had ever been quite so pushy as the Coleson man.
Update finished, she hit save and closed the browser. Thankfully, the rest of her staff were still on vacation, so she didn’t have to deal with anyone today. Saying goodbye to the family, and especially Ryan, took a lot out of her this time. She didn’t feel like being polite or making small talk with her coworkers. Her family was too far away, she was alone, and now she’d end up missing Larissa’s pregnancy in addition to all the progress Ryan was making as he grew.
Sydney had to face facts. She was homesick.
The charity fund had been her idea, her brain child. She thought she wanted to escape the island and live in New York, so she convinced her parents that it was the way things were done. She needed a committee to help go over proposals and weed out the ones they didn’t think she needed to see. That only left her with several hundred to read in a year and make decisions on. It seemed reasonable, and Susan and John went with it, happy to start a fund and give her a job she wanted to do.
Things had changed lately, and Sydney didn’t think New York was still what she wanted. Of course, finding her assistant and her boyfriend screwing each other’s brains out on her couch didn’t make being so far from home any easier. Her staff was down to two people, and more and more Sydney wondered if she shouldn’t just go back to the island. She could run the fund from there, or she could give it up entirely.
As a teen, she’d worked on the golf course as an instructor. She really missed golf. Would it be so bad to go back to that?
The door to the lobby made a slight squeak, warning her someone had entered the building. Sydney leaned back in her chair to glance through the open office door.
A handsome man in a dark blue suit walked in, looking around the empty lobby. “Hello?”
Great, she recognized that voice after hearing it so many damn times today. She should have locked up and gone home instead of making the website update. Now she had to deal with him.
Standing, she smoothed down her short, black skirt and walked to the doorway. “Mr. Coleson, I presume?”
He turned to face her, his deep brown eyes narrowed. “You’re the woman I spoke to on the phone. I want to talk to your boss. Where’s Syd McCallister?”
What a moron. He didn’t gather from her laughter before that he’d made an assumption, and therefore made an ass out of himself?
She smiled sweetly and stuck out her hand. “I’m Syd, Sydney McCallister.”
“You?” He looked down at the floor, not stepping forward to shake her hand.
Syd put it on her hip instead. “Yes, me. Didn’t you wonder why the picture on the contact page was a woman? Unlike you, my family has respect for both sexes. They find me highly efficient, even if I am a daughter in the middle of all those McCallister boys.”
When he looked back up, his eyebrows were drawn so far together, his eyes made mere slits in his face. “Why didn’t you just tell me that on the phone? Do you get your jollies off torturing people?”
If only he knew. It’d been a while since she’d gotten her jollies off, considering the way she’d fought with Tim several months before their relationship finally went up in flames. She’d love to get her jollies off.
Laughing at herself and her desperate horniness, she forced herself to deal with the problem in front of her.
“People who think they know everything annoy me, so I don’t bother to correct them. You’re the worst sort, really, Mr. Coleson.”
She didn’t know why she felt like picking on the poor man. Perhaps it was his superior attitude, the way he thought a man had to be in charge. Well, and maybe a little because he was a similar height as Tim and his spiky haircut was the same style.
The wrinkles in his forehead cleared as he quit scowling at her. “You’re right. It was wrong to think that way. But you’re wrong too.”
This should be good. “How so?”
“Why would you pass over my charity and give so much money to art galleries and museums?”
Sydney leaned against the doorframe, wondering why she felt compelled to answer him. Something in him spoke of desperation, and she didn’t want to set him off. It was impossible to tell with some people. He might snap and beat the shit out of her or something if she didn’t somewhat placate him. Death threats were one thing, but no one was around to help her if this man snapped.
“I honestly don’t even know what your charity is,” she replied, softening her tone. “Maybe you missed the cutoff date for the grant proposals. Those go straight into the garbage. It’s also possible my staff decided yours wasn’t a charity I’d want t
o get involved with. I’m keen on preserving art and history, and I also have a few pet charities that deal with children. Those always get grants before anyone else is considered.”
“The kids being funded is fine, but art and history are more important to you than people?” The glower was back. “It’s true what I’ve always heard. Rich people really don’t care about the poor, do you?”
How dare he? The whole reason the McCallisters did what they did was to make people happy. The whole family worked hard. For this man, a man looking for a handout, to judge her when he knew nothing about her... No. She wouldn’t stand for that.
“It’s time for you to leave, before I call security.” She held her head high to better look down her nose at him. She had no problem playing the snooty rich girl if that’s what he saw. “Don’t bother calling again or applying next year. I don’t even care what your charity is now. I won’t be funding it.”
His face reddened, and Sydney worried for a minute she might have crossed that boundary into getting her ass kicked. Suddenly, she wished the staff had come in with her.
“I hope you rot in hell, you heartless harpy.” He spun and marched to the door, slamming it behind him.
Running as best she could in high heels, Sydney rushed to lock the lobby door. She returned to her desk slowly and sank into the chair, still trembling slightly. It was a damn good thing he wasn’t a total psycho. She probably got off easily. No more working in the office alone if she decided to stay in New York.
She laid her head on the smooth mahogany desktop, thinking about the interaction and Matthew Coleson’s rage.
“Wait? Did he just call me a heartless harpy?” she asked the empty room, then erupted into laughter.
As far as insults went, that was more original than calling her a bitch. Matthew Coleson at least provided some entertainment to her day. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.
Chapter 3
Insistent music pulled Sydney from sleep. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with old socks. She worked her tongue around while swatting in the dark for her phone.
Her eyes wouldn’t quite focus on the name of the caller, but she swiped across the screen to stop the music. “Hello?”
“Hi. This is Detective Davis from the NYPD. Is this Sydney McCallister?”
A shot of adrenaline rushed through Sydney’s veins and she finally focused on the bedside clock. 4:23. “What’s happened? Is everyone okay?”
“No one’s been hurt, ma’am. I’m down here at your foundation’s building, though. It seems someone broke in and trashed the place before we arrived. I’m sorry to wake you, but can you come down here?”
What the hell else could go wrong? She really was starting to hate this town. “I’ll be right there.”
* * *
I hope you enjoyed these sample chapters. This title is available on Amazon and in the Kindle Unlimited program. Continue reading Sydney and Matt’s story now: For Love or Charity (McCallister’s Paradise – 3).
Diving Into Love (McCallister's Paradise Book 2) Page 24
