“We’ve got a new donor.”

“Who?” asked Clover as she kicked her feet up on the small stool next to Jane’s desk. Kids used the stool to get into Jane’s candy jar.

Jane spent a good portion of her workday fundraising. Clover could never do that part of the job, and she was grateful Jane was willing and able to bring in the funds that kept The Pantry running. She didn’t have to keep Clover up to date on the financial side of things, but when something went right, she liked to celebrate with her only employee.

They were celebrating now, sharing a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels in Jane’s office. The wall behind Jane’s chair was covered in multicolored sticky notes. Clover didn’t even try to make sense of Jane’s organization system. There were at least three levels of color coding going on over there.

“Dustin Colt.” Jane lifted her arms and wiggled her backside, making her rolling chair go side to side. “I finished going the rounds with his agent.”

“Going the rounds?”

“Dustin wants to promote his involvement with The Pantry on social media, and we needed to hash out the legal aspects. They should be here soon to set up a photo shoot.” She lifted both palms in the air. “It will be an inconvenience today, but I’m happy to say we’re going to be able to feed a lot more families this winter because of his donations. If we can get another big sponsor or two, we might even be able to expand.”

Clover folded her arms.

“Why the grumpy face?” Jane giggled at her own joke. She tossed back another chocolate pretzel and smiled.

Clover worked to put her feelings into words. Honestly, so many emotions vied for attention when she thought of Dustin that she hardly knew where to start. “This is a good thing for a lot of people.”

“Buuuuuut,” Jane prompted.

“But I don’t like him using The Pantry to improve his image.”

Jane got to her feet and came around the desk. “This is how the world works. It’s not always pretty.” She placed an arm over Clover’s shoulders. “You’re assuming he’s only doing this for personal gain.”

“I’m calling it like I see it.”

She shook her head. “But are you seeing the whole picture?”

“I—” Clover paused. After several years living and then working with Jane, she knew better than to assume she knew the woman’s innermost thoughts. Jane wasn’t one to drill her ideas or beliefs into another’s head. She had sound advice, and when Clover followed it, her life was better. So, she put the lid on her mason jar of protests and prejudices against Dustin and waited for Jane to continue.

Jane squeezed Clover against her side. “I’m afraid you do this a lot, believe the worst in people until they prove you wrong.”

Clover lowered her eyebrows. “No, I don’t.”

“That way they don’t let you down.”

Clover’s defensive reply died in her throat. She thought about her small circle of friends. She loved each one of them as if they were family, because they were the closest thing she would have to a family. But beyond that, she approached people with a small amount of mistrust. Growing up on the streets, she was never sure who was out to take something from her. Trusting too easily could have set her up for emotional and possibly physical pain.

“You might be right.” She one-armed hugged Jane back. “Because right now, I’m thinking you’re trying to set me up for a big change, and I don’t like it—or you.”

Jane laughed and let her go. “You’ve got good instincts. I’m challenging you to say one nice thing about a person for every bad thing you say. And if you think something bad, you have to think something good.” She nudged Clover. “Start with me.”

Clover shrugged. “That’s easy. You care about people and sacrifice for others without a thought.”

“See. That was easy.”

Clover hugged her arms around her middle. She’d understood that her upbringing was less than ideal and that she didn’t always see things as others saw them. This little exercise might be the exact right thing to help her trust people, or at least trust in the good she believed lived inside each person. “Thanks, Jane.”

“No problem.” Jane opened the office door. “Now, go out there and spread some sunshine.”

Clover hopped out the door and ran into a man carrying a microphone. “Sorry,” she mumbled at the same time he did. The Pantry was dotted with television cameras and microphones. Thick black wires ran across the floor. Their normal Thursday patrons stood outside, watching through the window as The Pantry changed from a refuge to a circus. As a general rule, the people who came in for a meal were shy. They didn’t want to be on camera. In the middle of all the crazy activity stood Dustin Colt.

Her heart leapt and then beat out a steady mantra: He’s here. He’s here. He’s here.

A woman with a hairbrush stood in front of Clover, blocking her view and shaking her out of the trance.

Jane shut the office door behind her and nearly ran into Clover.

Clover took one look at Dustin and his perfectly tousled hair and smooth chin and flipped on Jane. “How about I start thinking nice things next week?” she asked out of the side of her mouth.

Jane patted her back. “Nope.”

Shoot!