I walked into the building, with the man outside still on my mind. For the time being, I tried to shake him out of my thoughts. I needed to focus on making an excellent first impression and start my first day with a bang.

"Hi, I'm Amelia Montgomery. Today is my first day." I smiled at the young receptionist wearing Barbie pink lipstick at the front desk.

"Amelia! We are so happy to have you! Let me call up to Ross and let him know you're here."

Wow, she was friendly. If half the staff bore this much cheer, I might have found the best place to work in the world.

I sat in a cozy leather chair beside the fireplace near reception. My first instinct was to bite my fingernails, but I silently scolded myself.

Don't mess up your fresh manicure, dummy.

I sat on my hands to remove the temptation and wondered what my new boss would be like. Sure, I spoke to Ross on the phone, but we never met face-to-face during the interviewing process. He said my resume spoke for itself. At first, I suspected it was all some big ruse to mess up my life. I mean, how many people willingly hire someone without meeting them at least once in person? I guess all my hard work paid off, though. This place seemed incredible, and I hadn't explored past the front desk. I admired the high ceilings and out-of-this-world architecture. It must have been built decades ago but continued to maintain its glamorous prestige.

"Amelia! You're here!"

"Hi, Ross. It's so wonderful to finally meet you," I said shyly and stood to shake his hand.

"Follow me. I'll show you to your office then give you a tour of the building."

For the next hour, Ross walked me all around the premises. He showed me my new office, which provided a spectacular view of the city's skyline. The skyscrapers and architecture painted the horizon and glittered under the sun. He walked me to the on-site cafeteria, bought me another coffee, and introduced me to a handful of new colleagues.

Everyone was super friendly. At my last law firm, I was convinced the Grinch procreated and every one of his children worked there. Here, though, welcoming vibes danced in the air.

After the introductions, Ross walked me back to my office. “I hope you’ll be happy here, Amelia.”

“I can’t imagine not being happy here!”

“Oh! One more thing,” Ross said. “Community involvement is very important to us here at the firm. We encourage all of our legal staff to volunteer at a local establishment in the city.”

He laid down a couple of brochures on my desk. The top pamphlet caught my eye: a man not so dissimilar to the one with the burgundy sleeping bag adorned the front cover. “Home for the Homeless” was printed across the glossy paper.

“That sounds wonderful,” I said. “Where do you volunteer?”

“I spend my Sundays at the nursing home around the corner,” Ross said.

“How generous of you! I’ll take some time to think about where I’d like to try and let you know as soon as I can.”

“Wonderful. Happy to have you here, Amelia. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

The morning flew by, and once I finally had the chance to catch my breath, I realized lunchtime had arrived. I thought back to the man I saw outside and wondered what he'd be doing for lunch. Would he eat lunch? Guilt launched itself into my subconscious as I ordered a gourmet chicken and avocado salad from the cafeteria on the first floor of the historic building. My Vera Bradley tote housed some snacks and a bottle of water.

I sat by myself at a cozy corner table away from the hustling and bustling of the cash-out line. I brought my briefcase with me to peruse in while I ate my lunch. For as long as I could remember, all my lunches were work lunches. I didn't have it in me to put my work aside, not even for a half hour to eat.

I closed my eyes and stifled a moan after I took the first bite of my salad. Surely cafeterias weren't supposed to provide such excellent cuisine, right? I could get used to this!

After a few more bites, I slowed my pace and searched around for a specific case file I wanted to examine. Last year, I served as lead attorney on another bombshell case involving the CEO of a well-known environmental company. The CEO, a wealthy, cocky sonofabitch, skimmed off the company's profits despite his already growing six-figure salary. It wasn't often that I veered into criminal law, but the board hired my firm, and specifically me, to sue the CEO and retrieve the stolen funds. I won.

I needed to study my notes, though, because Ross brought up the case this morning during my tour of the office. He mentioned they might have a similar case in the works, and if the firm landed the proposal, he'd make me point person for the legal team.

I needed to refresh my memory and be ready for my meeting with Ross and a few other attorneys tomorrow morning. I assumed we'd be meeting about this potential case. If so, I had no time to waste. Throughout my career, I learned it's always better to be prepared and not need to be, than to be underprepared and embarrass yourself.

I glanced outside to see fluttering snowflakes fall from the sky. I thought about the homeless man again and shivered. Was he still outside? How did he avoid hypothermia being out there for so long? I wondered what I could do to help him. I tapped my nails against the table and furrowed my brows.

The clock struck two in the afternoon, and I realized the cafeteria workers packed up the salad bar and wrapped up the leftover hot entrees. Without hesitation, I jumped up and called out, "Wait!"

The kitchen staff whipped around to see where the spontaneous shouting came from. I waved my arm, and one man with a pristine chef's hat waved and smiled.

"Need something else, ma'am?"

I winced at the greeting but ignored it. "Can I have a turkey sandwich, please?"

"You didn't like the salad?" He appeared crestfallen.

"Oh, no! I loved it. I just, uh, wanted something to bring home for dinner," I lied.

His eyes lit up. "Ah, I see. Not a problem. What would you like on it?"

I never enjoyed ordering for another person. For example, I loved onions, but I know some people who would rather throw away something tainted with them than pick them off. How was I supposed to know what the man on the bench liked or disliked? I had to take the best guess, though.

"Lettuce, tomato, and light onion, please. Oh, and some mayo and oil on the side." I reminded myself to grab plastic silverware before leaving the cafeteria. How rude would it be to give the man condiments without something to use to spread them on the sandwich?

"All set. Enjoy!"

I thanked the chef and climbed the stairs from the cafeteria to the door that led outside. My heart pounded with weariness with every step I took. What would I say to him? Would he accept my offering? What if he was mean and scary? Oh, hell. I sounded like a little girl afraid to ring the doorbell of a neighbor as I tried to hit my quota of Girl Scout cookie sales.

I opened the door to the street and peeked my head outside. I peered to the left and the right as my hands shook. To the right, I saw the bench and craned my neck to see if my friend sat there or not. The bench appeared vacated, and my heart plummeted. Of course, why did I expect him to sit there all day? Undoubtedly, he left and did something with his free time during the day.

Well, now what?

I wasn't going to eat the sandwich, but I also didn't want to throw it away. Then, I saw it: a man across the street digging through the dumpster of a sports bar whose neon sign appeared turned off.

Fuck.

The poor guy had to scavenge for food, of course. What could I do now? I glanced at the man, to his bench and back again. I scurried down the street toward the bench, hoping he wouldn't catch me encroaching on his domain. I reached his spot and found a foul odor hung in the air. I brushed the accumulated snow off the bench with the elbow of my Michael Kors winter coat and left the sandwich on the wooden planks. Hopefully, he'd see it sitting here. And, by the looks of him, I don't think he'd hesitate to have a fresh meal.

In the next moment, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I struggled to pull off my leather gloves and reach for my iPhone, but I grabbed it just in time. The caller ID read, "Reception."

"Hello?" I answered breathlessly.

"Hi, Amelia. Your 2:30 is here to see you."

"Oh, right. I just stepped outside for a few minutes, but I'll be back in my office soon. Send them up in about ten minutes?"

"Sounds good!"

I couldn't stay to find out if the man found my offering. I had to run to my office and prepare to meet with my first client. Hopefully, he'd find it okay and enjoy every last crumb. Fingers crossed.