She was crushed but tried to buoy her spirits by thinking of how fortunate they’d been to receive the previous two donations. Kate had spent the money wisely, and they were doing fine. Not great, but no one who was hungry would be turned away in the coming months, and that was all that mattered.
She’d locked the door and was halfway down the street when she heard the footsteps. She slowed her pace, and when she looked nonchalantly over her shoulder, she observed a man trying to open the door of the food pantry. He rattled the doorknob in irritation and cursed under his breath as he turned to go. She scanned the street. Every meter was full, but there wasn’t an old blue car in sight. Maybe he’d left it in the ramp around the corner.
Afraid he would leave before she had a chance to talk to him, she started running, meaning only to reach out and grab his sleeve. Unfortunately, she was wearing ballet flats that didn’t have much traction, and since she’d built up a bit more momentum than she’d anticipated, she slid right into him. In an effort to maintain her balance, her arm became wrapped around his throat.
“Gah!” he yelled. “You’re choking me.”
“Sorry,” Kate said. She disentangled herself and took a step back.
He massaged his throat. “What is wrong with you?”
“I’m just excited because I thought my plan had failed, but it didn’t. It worked!”
“Your plan?”
“To catch you in the act of making another donation. You are here to make a donation, aren’t you?”
“That was my intent, yes.”
Kate clapped her hands together excitedly. “Now I finally know who you are. Oh, Helena is going to be so happy for me.”
“Is Helena insane too?”
“I’m not insane. I’m determined.”
“I’ll say.” He looked at her warily. “So, what’s my name? You said you know who I am.”
That took a bit of the wind out of Kate’s sails. “I don’t actually know your name. Not yet. But I know what you look like.”
And speaking of that.
How in the name of all that was holy could Helena have failed to mention so many crucial details about his appearance? Helena had guessed his age as early thirties, and Kate would agree. Helena had said he was tall, and that was also true. Kate was five nine, but even if she were wearing heels, he’d still have several inches on her. Helena had been right about his hair being somewhere between blond and brown. Dirty-blond, Kate decided. It was long enough to cover his ears and graze his shirt collar, but too artfully messy to be called shaggy. The scruff on his face was also carefully cultivated; this was not a man who was simply between shaves. His eyes were a mesmerizing shade of green, and they stood out against his fair skin. He was wearing jeans, an untucked white button-down shirt, expensive-looking loafers, and a brown leather jacket.
He was stunning.
“How long have you been trying to… catch me?” he asked.
“This is my first attempt,” Kate said. “Initially I’d assumed your donation was a onetime thing. It was only after the second one that I realized there was a pattern. I’ve been waiting for you all day.”
He seemed to be considering the information. “I see.”
“What’s with all the secrecy?” she asked. “Why have you never given me the opportunity to thank you?”
“I hadn’t decided whether or not I was going to introduce myself.”
That was a strange thing to say. “But you did see me on TV, right? That’s why you’re making the donations?”
“When you wore the short skirt? Yes, I saw you.”
Kate’s face grew warm. “That was Helena’s idea. We figured it couldn’t hurt. We were desperate.”
“Do you frequently employ the use of sex appeal for personal gain?”
“It was for the babies. And shall I point out that it worked? You’re here, aren’t you?”
He smiled. “Ah, you’re feisty. I like that.”
Kate’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
“Just a man with a mission.”
“Independently wealthy, or does the money grow on a tree in your backyard?”
“I steal from the rich to give to the poor.”
“So, your name? Is it Robin Hood then?”
“Clever, but no. My name is Ian.”
“Ian…?”
“Just Ian.”