Keeping Denver

Walking to my first day of work the next morning, I curse New York’s weather. It’s mid-November and currently thirty degrees. It could be worse. Thank God it’s not snowing. The blouse I’m presently wearing does nothing to keep me warm.

Hopefully, mother nature will hold off until I get my first check and can buy a winter coat. I hate to spend any of my money on extras because my main goal is to get out of the shelter and into an apartment, but the coat is something I can’t do without much longer.

Rounding the corner, the frigid wind whips at my hair and causes my nose to run. Hugging myself to keep warm, I approach the entrance to my new workplace. As I go to step up to the door, a sleek black sedan pulls up to the curb, and a man exits the driver seat and makes his way to the back-passenger door. When the door opens, out steps the same man I saw yesterday: dark hair, chiseled jawline, and a crisp expensive navy suit. Stopping, I stare. The man is genuinely breathtaking. Everything about him exudes power, money, sex. Once again, his phone is plastered to his ear as he walks past me. I’m mesmerized as I watch the reaction of those around him. Women blatantly ogle him, and men greet him with a nod. It’s not until after he disappears into the building, I regain my senses and make my way inside.

The security guard from yesterday recognizes me instantly. ‘Miss Hollis,’ he greets.

I smile and give him a little wave as I continue on my way to the elevators. I half expected Kelly to be the first face I see when stepping out of the elevator, but she and her disapproving glare are nowhere in sight. Frankly, I can do without seeing her at all.

When I make it down the hall, Frances is already seated at my desk, waiting for me. ‘Good morning, Denver. How are you this morning?’

‘Good morning, Frances. I’m okay.’

Frances waves me over. ‘Come sit, so we can get started.’ She points to the filing cabinet to our right. ‘You can store your bag here if you like.’

Nodding, I tuck my bag into the cabinet, then grab the extra seat nearby and sit next to Frances at the computer. Over the next hour, she shows me the system and how to navigate Mr. Hawk’s calendar. ‘This Post-It has the names of the people who you are to let through to Mr. Hawk immediately. All the others you take a message—no matter how persistent they are. Got it?’

‘Yes. Always take a message aside from those here,’ I point to the Post-It.

Frances stands and pushes her chair aside. ‘Well, I’m going to leave you to it. I think you’ll do just fine, dear. Remember I’m down the hall in my office if you need anything. Or press extension 202 on your phone. Don’t hesitate with any questions you may have.’

‘Um…will I be meeting Mr. Hawk today?’

‘You will,’ she smiles. ‘Mr. Hawk comes in early every day. He’s already in his office.’ Frances points to the door directly across from my desk.

Over the next few hours, I become immersed in my new role. Frances was right; Mr. Hawk is a busy man. Luckily, the constant influx of calls had gone a long way in helping me learn the ropes. Or so I thought. It was nearing noon when the door across from my desk burst open. My new boss emerges, and he does not look happy. I freeze as Mr. Hawk appraises me with his piercing green eyes. The kind of green that reminds me of springtime in the park. And holy mother of God, he’s even more striking up close. Lost in his eyes, I didn’t realize how close he’s gotten. Suddenly, Mr. Hawk looms over my desk. I have no choice but to tilt my head back. His face is dark, and his stare holds me captive. My heart rate picks up. I keep waiting for him to say something—only he doesn’t. ‘Hi,’ I say, barely a whisper. Mr. Hawk still doesn’t say anything as his nostrils flare, so I continue. ‘My name is Denver, Denver Hollis. I’m your new assistant.’ I nervously extend my hand to him.

Mr. Hawk ignores my hand as his intense green eyes continue to hold my blue one’s captive, causing me to squirm in my chair. What is he waiting for? Oh, crap! I must have screwed something up. That’s why he’s looking at me like that. ‘I’m sorry,’ I squeak, thinking I must have done something wrong. I try desperately to keep my bottom lip from quivering and hold back the tears that threaten to escape my eyes. I can’t lose this job.

Mr. Hawk flexes his fists down to his sides before he, without a word, turns on his heel and storms back into his office, slamming the door.

What the hell just happened? My shaking hand drops to the desktop, and I finally feel like I can breathe again.

A few minutes later, Frances walks in and informs me I can go to lunch. Needing to calm down, I waste no time grabbing my bag from the filing cabinet and making my way toward the elevator while avoiding Kelly’s daggers along the way. Approaching the elevator, I glance over my shoulder to see Mr. Hawk heading in my direction. Making a hasty decision, I duck into the stairwell off to my right. With my hand clutching my chest, I drop my butt down onto the step and try to calm my racing heart. ‘Get it together, Denver.’ I’ve never had a man affect me this way.

I end up spending my entire lunch break sitting in the stairwell while eating my blueberry muffin. When I return to my desk, there is no sign of Mr. Hawk, and I don’t see him for the rest of the day.

‘So, how was your first day?’ Frances asks as we walk out of the office together.

‘Good. I think I’m getting the hang of things.’

‘That’s wonderful. I knew you would. Did Mr. Hawk give you a hard time? I promise he’s not all that bad once you get to know him.’

I fiddle with the strap to my backpack as we step out onto the sidewalk. I shiver the instant the cold hits my skin. ‘Mr. Hawk was fine.’ A gust of wind picks up, and I wrap my arms around my waist.

‘Child, where on earth is your coat? You’re going to freeze to death out here,’ Frances hedges, her voice full of concern.

‘Oh, I’ll be okay. Stupid me forgot it this morning.’

‘Do you want me to give you a ride, Denver? I hate to think of you walking in the cold.’

I wave her gesture off. ‘I can catch a cab. It’s no problem.’

‘Well, if you’re sure.’ Frances gives me a worried look.

‘I’m sure.’ I start to walk away. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, Frances.’

‘Bye, Denver. See you tomorrow.’

Later that night, after taking a shower at the shelter, I sit on the edge of my cot and inspect my feet. Blisters cover almost every toe and the sores on my heels have started to bleed. Lucy, one of the shelter workers, sits down next to me and passes me a bottle of peroxide and some band-aids.

‘Here you go. You don’t want your feet to get infected.’

‘Thanks.’ I give her a small smile.

‘What size do you wear?’ Lucy asks.

‘Seven.’

‘What have you been wearing?’

I point to the shoes on the floor. ‘Those are a six.’

Lucy winces. ‘I’ll keep an eye out for something in your size.’

‘Thanks, Lucy. I appreciate it,’ I smile.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I wake to find a man crouched down next to my cot with his hand on my backpack. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

The man startles but quickly recovers. ‘I wasn’t doin’ nothin’.’

The alcohol on his breath washes over my face, and I nearly gag. ‘Get away from me.’ I snatch my bag away from him and hug it to my chest. Nothing my ass. I know what he was doing. He was looking to swipe my bag. When I think about it, it’s not like I have the right to be angry at the man. I’m a thief myself. That alone makes me just like the drunk man currently staggering away from me as he makes his way back to the opposite side of the room.

I continue to lay there for the next few hours while sleep evades me. The time allows me to reflect on what I want out of life and how I plan to get where I want to be. So much has happened in recent months. Up until a couple of days ago, my future was looking bleak. I started to doubt if there was a light at the end of the tunnel. My motto has always been to take one day at a time. Try not to worry about tomorrow. Focusing on the here and now, remains my main concern. I know better than anyone how life can change in the blink of an eye. All it takes is one bad decision or, in my case trusting the wrong person to have a somewhat comfortable life turned upside down. My life before was far from perfect, but I had a roof over my head, a steady paycheck and food in my stomach. Through all of this, I still refuse to give up hope. Hope is what keeps me going. Despite the shitty hand I was dealt, I believe my hardships are happening for a reason. God never gives us more than we can handle, or that’s what I remind myself of daily. I haven’t given up hope that God has a plan for me. Not yet anyway.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. My stomach decides at that moment to let out a loud growl. I still have that bag of chips, but I’m desperately trying to hold on to them. When my tummy growls for a second time, followed by a cramp, I give in to my hunger and dig the potato chips out of my bag.

As I open the small bag, I start thinking about where my next meal will be coming from. At work, I noticed a small pack of crackers on the counter in the employee’s lounge next to the coffee maker. Maybe tomorrow I can pocket a few and hope nobody will notice or even care they are missing.

On that thought, I savor the salty flavor as it explodes across my tongue. I’ve mostly been surviving on peanut butter when I can save up enough money to buy it. It’s either that or Ramen noodles. A couple of times a week, the shelter feeds us, but like with the clothing donations, it’s a first come first serve. There are times I have stood in line for two hours only to get turned away because they ran out of food. And bless her, on the days Lucy volunteers, she makes it a point to set aside a plate for me. That’s not something she is allowed to do but she does anyway. I suspect she has a soft spot for me because we are the same age. Lucy comes from a great family and is a college student. What Lucy does for the other people who frequent the shelter and me is not out of pity, but out of compassion. The world needs more people like her.