Read Online More Than Words: Stories of Hope by Diana Palmer, Catherine Mann, Kasey Michaels - Free Book Online Page B

wickedly.
    She laughed and blushed, again. He touched her cheek with just the tips of his fingers, and the smile was still there.
    “I’ll look forward to Sunday,” he said after a minute, and grinned as he got into his car. “Don’t forget,” he called before he started the engine.
    “As if I could,” she murmured to herself.
    She stood and watched him drive away. He waved when he got to the street.
    Mary walked back into the room. Three pair of curious eyes were staring at her.
    “He’s just my friend,” she said defensively.
    “He’s nice,” Bob said. “And we like him. So it’s okay if you like him, too. Right?” he asked Ann.
    “Right!” she echoed enthusiastically.
    Mary laughed as she took little John from Ann, who was holding him. She cuddled the little boy and kissed his chubby little cheek.
    “I’m glad you like him,” was all she said. “Now, let’s see if we can get our things ready for tomorrow, okay?”

CHAPTER FOUR
    M ary felt like a new woman as she went to her job the next day. It was too soon to become romantically involved with any man, at the moment. But Matt was a wonderful person and she was drawn to him. Her children seemed to feel a connection to him as well, which was terrific. One of her employers, a middle-aged society hostess named Billie West, was married to old money and dripping diamonds. She was particularly interested in Mary’s project.
    “You mean these restaurants are actually willing to just give you food?” she exclaimed.
    “At the end of the business day,” Mary replied with a smile. “It’s only the leftovers, not the full meals.”
    “Oh. I see.” The woman shook her head. “And you call them up and they give it to you.”
    “Well, I do have to pick it up and deliver it to people.”
    “Deliver it? Hmm. Is Chez Bob one of your clients?” she persisted.
    “No, ma’am. I asked, but they weren’t interested.”
    The older woman smiled. “Suppose I ask the owner for you?”
    Mary was surprised. The elderly woman wasn’t usually talkative. Often, she wasn’t at home when Mary cleaned for her, using a key that was kept in a secret place. “You would do that?” Mary asked.
    “There are two others whose owners I know, Mary’s Porch and the Bobwhite Grill. I could ask them, too.”
    Mary just stared at her.
    “You’re suspicious,” the blonde replied, nodding. “Yes, I don’t blame you. I’m filthy rich. Why should I care if a lot of society’s dropouts starve. That’s what you’re wondering, isn’t it?”
    Mary perceived that only honesty would do in this situation. “Yes, ma’am, that’s what I’m wondering,” she said quietly.
    Billie burst out laughing. “Honey, I grew up on the back streets of Chicago,” she said surprisingly. “My old man was drunk more than he was sober, and my mother worked three jobs just so my brothers and I could have one meal a day. She could barely pay the rent. When I was sixteen, she died. It was up to me to take care of Dad, who had liver cancer by then,along with three young boys and get them and myself through school.” She sat down on the sofa and crossed her long legs. “I wasn’t smart, but I had a nice figure and good skin. I had a friend who was a photographer. He shot a portfolio for me and showed it to a magazine editor he did layouts for. I was hired to be a model.”
    That was news. Mary had never heard the woman speak of her background at all.
    “Overnight, I was rolling in money,” her employer recalled. “I got the boys through school and never looked back. Dad died the second year I was modeling. The third, I married Jack West, who had even more money than I did. But I never forgot how I grew up, either. I donate to the less fortunate on a regular basis.” She stared at Mary curiously. “Your other client Debbie and I are friends. She said that after your divorce was final, you were on the streets with three kids to raise. And despite that, you were out begging food from