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sandwiches and drinks were produced by a friendly delivery boy, and the two of them sat at her desk to eat.
    Thankfully, the office was much quieter now, with only one or two of her coworkers still floating around the place, finishing things up before they headed out to eat like the rest had.
    Leaving Char painfully aware of the fact that they were, for the most part, alone.
    She could tell what had happened this morning was on his mind, too, but he was being a gentleman about it and not pressing the issue. Which ironically only made her more nervous about it.
    But before either of them could dig in to the delicious-looking deli-laden sandwiches or drum up a conversation, Mark’s phone rang.
    Reluctantly, he withdrew his cell from his pocket, then, with a fleeting expression of surprise, stood from the stool he’d pulled to her desk.
    “Mind if I answer this? I won’t if you think I should stay here,” he asked quickly.
    “Go ahead. You can use the back office if you want privacy. I’ll just be right here. It looks like things are pretty quiet at the moment anyway. Is it all right if I start eating, though?” she asked, both grateful for the slight reprieve of having to face the resulting awkwardness of her own actions this morning and a little sad to have him leave, even for just a minute.
    “Please do. I’ll be very disappointed if you don’t,” he said with a grin that bared just the slightest flash of his perfect white teeth as he pressed his phone to answer the call and strode to one of the back offices to speak with whomever was on the other end, giving her a short but savory view of his perfect, tight ass in his jeans. 
    Suddenly, she was hungry for something other than sandwiches.
    Hoping to distract herself from her own thoughts, she bit into her bacon turkey club and enjoyed the delicious flavors in her mouth, which only partially distracted her from the thrumming in her body at wanting Mark near her again.
    But before she could take another bite, she heard the sound of a door opening, then metal clanging on metal as it swung shut. Immediately, Char looked up to see who it was.
    The center had only two primary entrances. The glass double doors at the front, connected to the street, that made up for the vast majority of any comings and goings during the day. On the other side of the room was a single metal door that led out into the adjoining alley and was mostly only used by employees working late after the main doors were locked.
    But the man walking in just now was definitely no employee of the SWH.
    Without hesitation, the stranger strolled inside, his body swaying slightly as he moved step by step into the place. His hair was brown and thinning, and his face was sullen and intense, his patchy beard only adding more to his disheveled look. The beat-up work jeans and olive windbreaker he wore looked like they hadn’t been washed in some time, and even across the room, she could hear the thump-thump of heavy boots hitting the floor ungracefully.
    Char looked around and saw nobody else nearby and realized she needed to handle this quickly before any clients could come in. Random men off the street were certainly not welcome in a women’s refuge.
    Calmly and professionally, Char stood up and began walking toward the man.
    “Excuse me, sir, can I help you?”
    Instantly, the man’s eyes locked onto her, sending a shiver up her spine as he glared at her undauntedly and walked in her direction.
    “You work here?” he drawled as he came up to her. With each approaching step, the stench of hard alcohol became more and more apparent. 
    “Yes, I do. I’m sorry, but if you don’t have an appointment, you need to leave,” she said coolly, straightening where she stood.
    The well-being of the women the center helped and protected meant more to her than anything else in the world right now, and she wasn’t going to let some two-bit drunk off the street jeopardize that.
    “Where’s my wife? I know you