Seduced The Unexpected Virgin - By Emily McKay Page 0,56
the other. They’re all scared about the future. No one knows what it means that so many of the uppity-ups from Worth Industries are leaving. But none of them want to admit that they need help.”
Abruptly, she set her plate aside, leaving much of her food untouched, and turned to face him more fully. “This is why what we’re doing at Hannah’s Hope is so important. You see that, don’t you?”
“I saw that before,” he countered, annoyance creeping into his voice. “I just wonder if you see it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m talking about your job at Hannah’s Hope.” His tone was serious. Harsher than his normal gravelly charm. “You’re burying yourself under paperwork because you’re afraid of getting out in the community and actually dealing with people.”
“That is ridiculous,” she protested. Standing abruptly, she crossed to the trash can by the back door and dumped her plate in.
He followed a few steps behind, dumped his own plate and then followed her in to the now deserted kitchen. Everyone else was out in the back, enjoying the food, which left them alone in the tiny, homey kitchen.
“So ridiculous that you storm off in response?” he prodded.
She stopped and spun to face him, then poked a finger in the direction of his chest. “Don’t you dare tell me I’m not doing my job.”
“The administrative crap is only half of running Hannah’s Hope. That’s the easy part. The hard part is getting volunteers to commit their time and energy to making it work. And the really hard part is reaching out to people and getting them to accept help.”
His words stung and she turned away from him, busying herself collecting the many bowls and utensils that had been left scattered over the counter once the food was prepared. “You think I don’t know how hard that’s going to be?” She dropped the biggest of the bowls in the sink basin and turned on the water to fill it. “You think I don’t know a thing or two about the stubborn pride that goes along with poverty and lack of education?” She grabbed the bottle of dish soap and gave it a vicious squirt. “Because I do. I know all about that. I grew up among these people. I know precisely how hard it’s going to be to get them to accept help.”
“Is that why you haven’t been talking up Hannah’s Hope to the people here today?”
“I—” Her mouth gaped open as she struggled to find a fitting response. Finally, she snapped her mouth closed, then said through clenched teeth, “You’re right.” She grabbed a deadly looking butcher knife and dropped it into the bowl of sudsy water. “I haven’t been talking about Hannah’s Hope. But this is my family. And it’s difficult and—”
“And that’s why you haven’t gone over to talk to Lena? Even though you know she’s a perfect candidate for Hannah’s Hope? Because it’s difficult?”
She added more dishes—a few more bowls and some spatulas—to the growing tower of dirty dishes. “That’s not fair.”
“But somehow it is fair that you’re ignoring her needs because they make you uncomfortable?”
Even though she didn’t so much as glance in his direction, she was painfully aware of the intensity of his gaze.
“But maybe you think she really isn’t a good candidate,” he added, his tone glib as he turned away from her to prop his hips against the counter perpendicular to the sink.
Ana snatched up a cutting board and wedged it behind the tower of bowls, but she didn’t leap to Lena’s defense.
“Maybe you think she’s screwed up everything in her life so far,” he continued. “How could she possibly handle all the extra work it would take to actually commit to getting her GED?”
She slammed down the final bowl. The tower of dirty dishes crashed into the sink, splattering water, bubbles and bits of food across the counter and her shirt. “Don’t you judge her! You have no idea what it’s like being a poor Latina woman in this country.”
Ward gave a humorless laugh, finally turning to face her again. “Yeah, well, I suspect you have no idea what that’s like, either.”
She gasped, shock at his words making her light-headed. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
Instantly, his gaze softened. “It’s what you believe, isn’t it? That you’re different. That you can’t relate to their struggles.” For a long moment he just looked at her as if taking in every emotion flickering across her face. As if he saw everything she desperately wanted to