Page 94 of Something Like Hail

“Because you used to be onthe street too?” Noah snorted. “You’re in the wrong line of workthen, because this entire place must be one bigreminder.”

“Not because of that,” Petegrumbled. “Because of the Gentlemen’s Agreement Club.”

Noah stared. First he thought that Pete musthave been a client. Not a current one, or chances were that Noahwould have at least heard of him. Then he reappraised the man, themuscles of the large arms soft now, but they had probably once beenhardened through training. Pete was attractive, in a hulking machosort of way. The hair covering his knuckles or escaping the neck ofhis T-shirt, along with the bald head, indicated a ton oftestosterone. Noah could think of more than one client whopreferred that type. Undeniably manly. “You used to work forMarcello.”

“I still do.”

The letters Noah held in one hand feltheavier somehow. “That’s how he knew about Ryan, isn’t it? Becauseof you!” He clenched his jaw. “You haven’t done me any favors!”

“I was thinking of TimWyman. Not you. I like him.”

“You and everyone else,”Noah said, turning to leave.

“You shouldquit.”

The change of tone halted Noah. Pete’s voicewas no longer laced with disdain. Instead he sounded concerned.Noah shook his head at himself for not leaving, then spun around.“Quit the GAC?”

“It’s not good forpeople.”

“You might have had a badexperience,” Noah said, “but this job saved me. Would you rather Igo back to sleeping on the streets? Or here?”

“Marcello will give youanother job. That’s what he did for me. Ask him.”

“And I bet you’re makingjust as much money now, right?”

Pete resumed glowering. “I help people.”

“So do I.”

“People who actuallyneedhelp. Never mind. Iknew you wouldn’t understand.”

Noah was torn between irritation andcuriosity, but ultimately, he was looking forward to having a goodday, and an argument about his lifestyle wasn’t part of the plan.He wasn’t even here to get his mail. “Is Edith working today?”

“This afternoon. She’ll behere then.”

“As much as I’d love tostick around…” Noah pushed away from the counter.

“You could at least returnher calls,” Pete said.

“I’ll add that to the listof things I’ve done wrong,” Noah retorted. “Let me know if youthink of anything else.”

Once he was outside, he took a deep breathand exhaled. Pete was right. Maybe not about everything, but Noahdid feel guilty for ignoring Edith for so long. Before he couldoverthink it, he trapped the letters beneath one arm, pulled outhis phone, and called her.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” he said. “It’s Noah.Um. Noah Westwood.”

“I know who you are!” Edithsaid. “Is everything okay? Where are you?”

“At the shelter. I stoppedby to see you.”

“But you’reokay?”

“Yes!” Noah said with achuckle. “I’m fine. I just thought it would be nice to catchup.”

“My shift doesn’t beginuntil three, but I can come in early.”

“Don’t do that! It’s sweetof you but… Do you have any plans for lunch?” He figured he atleast owed her that much. Another idea occurred to him, one thatcould potentially double his happiness. “I know a great seafoodplace. Actually, the food is average at best, but the staff… It’sworth visiting for them alone!”