Not even sure it was from me.“And you obtained this donation…”
“From Sofia. I didn’t get her last name. A beautiful brunette maybe mid to late twenties.”
There was only one person with that name who fit that description. He knew for a fact he didn’t give her his cell, not that he didn’t want too. “Patty, I would like to confirm the amount if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. It was five-hundred dollars. But I can assure you, someone as sweet as that young lady wouldn’t have taken a penny. She actually stayed and worked all afternoon until closing. Wonderful girl. Her picture is hanging proudly on our wall of honor.”
That was the exact amount he’d given the homeless woman with his card. There was only one way to find out who that woman was. Dylan needed to see the photo for himself. “Patty, I’d like to double that amount. Would you mind if I came by in the morning and delivered it personally?”
The excitement in her voice rang crystal clear before she could compose herself again. He got it. She wasn’t thrilled about another five-hundred bucks; it was the potential of nailing him as a long term sponsor. Dylan wasn’t crossing it off his list, but the sponsorship was done through the company and they decided as a family which to accept.
“Mr. Lawson, that would wonderful. Please come by any time.”
“My schedule is tight. I’ll see you at eight.” Dylan wanted to be in and out of there. If he left it open, Patty might try to occupy more time than he wanted to give. His intentions were not what Patty believed. There was only one thing he wanted from that visit and that was to find out who the hell this Sofia woman was and how she got his number. It couldn’t be the homeless woman. Why would she have given the money away when she obviously needed it herself?
Dylan wasn’t doing anything at the moment and decided to turn his car around and take a ride by the theater where he’d seen her. If she was still out there, maybe he could ask her directly. He should’ve helped her then. Just handing her money and his number wasn’t enough. And he also wasn’t thinking. She was homeless and he gave her a card saying call me. With what? If she didn’t have food, why the hell didn’t he realize she probably didn’t have a cell phone.
When Dylan arrived, he spent almost an hour walking the street, even checking a few back allies and she was nowhere to be found. He was pissed at himself. Dylan had put it on her to reach out when he was the one with the power and ability to actually do something positive in her life. Hindsight, he’d have done it differently. He would’ve stayed, followed her, done something more. What exactly that was, wasn’t clear yet, but he had connections, the right people who would’ve known what to do. Now, finding her again in New York City was near to impossible. And all he had to go on was the beautiful tearful eyes to remind him of his mistake.
It was too early to call it a night and he hadn’t even stopped to eat. Since his apartment contained only the basic needs, like coffee and beer, he knew he needed to stop. The guys would probably still be at The Choice, but he wasn’t in the mood for that either. There was a place which did appeal to him. The home cooked feeling. It was out of his way, but worth the drive. With any luck, it would be slow there tonight and Sofia and he could finish that drink they started yesterday.
This had nothing to do with him being interested in her either. There was nothing wrong with sitting and having a nice conversation over dinner with someone who was attractive. It didn’t mean he had to take her home and sleep with her. It also didn’t mean the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. But in his imagination was the only place he’d be having sex with her.
When he pulled up to the restaurant he noticed Sal’s car parked in the lot. For a second he questioned if going inside was a good idea. Then again, why shouldn’t he? He’d already made up his mind that nothing was going to happen between him and Sofia. Besides, he was hungry and Maria knew how to cook.
As he entered, Sal called him to over. “What brings you here?”
“Your mothers cooking.”
Sal nodded. “Watch out. I swear she puts something inside that gets you addicted. People try to stay away, but they can’t.”
“We were here last night, but none of us got to eat.” Dylan said.
“I heard. Congratulations on being an uncle.” He shook his head. “I still can’t believe Charlie is a father.”
Dylan wasn’t used to hearing his brother called Charlie. It seemed so odd, but in this place, that’s how they knew him. And from what he’d learned, Sal knew a side of Charlie that the family didn’t. Maybe that’s what Rosslyn saw in him too. There had to be something, because they were so different yet for some reason, they fit. Kind of like his parents did.
Dylan pulled out his cell phone and showed Sal the picture. “I’m just glad she didn’t have it here.”
Sal laughed. “Mama would’ve loved it. The customers, not so much.”
“I don’t think I’d be eating here again if that table had just delivered a baby either.”
Maria came over and said, “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you helping your brother?”
Dylan had a few wise crack remarks, but Maria was serious. If he even joked, he wasn’t getting anything to eat, paying customer or not. “We’ve been there most of the day. The parents wanted time alone.” That had to be true. They had looked happy, but exhausted.
“I shall cook something special for them and you can bring it to them.”
“Maria I”
“Mama. Everyone calls me Mama,” she corrected.
“Mama, they won’t be home for a few days.”
“Yes. True. Okay, you must come back Friday and I’ll have meals for a week for them.”
She turned and walked away before he could tell her there was no need. Dylan turned to Sal and said, “They don’t need it.”