*Here is my new Dean Story.. I hope that you like it. Enjoy!*
"You want to go hang out today?" asks my best friend Roman on the phone as I am getting ready to start my day off. "We could go shoot some hoops or play some football with the guys do you want to do any of those things?"
"I would but I am busy this afternoon," I say as I pull on my sneakers. "Maybe tomorrow?" I ask. "Are you free tomorrow?"
"It probably won't be as nice tomorrow as it is today plus I have business meetings tomorrow so I'm not free it's okay we can hang out another time. What do you have going on today?" he asks.
"Homeless shelter," I answer as I stand up in my street clothes of blue jeans, white t-shirt with a black hoodie over top to help with the September weather here in New York City as opposed to my normal every day outfit of a 3 piece tailored suit that I wear to my job in the business world of New York. "It's my day to give back," I explain.
"Oh good," he says, "you want me to come with you?" he asks.
"If you want to," I respond. "We could use all the help we could get. We need all the extra hands we can have. There are a lot of people in my shelter down on 25th street."
"All right, I'll meet you there. I love helping out in the shelter. Is there anything you need me to bring?" he asks.
"No just your hands but at the end of October till the 3rd week of November we're going to be doing a food drive to get canned goods and care packages for the homeless. Would your company be willing to help out with that?"
"Of course," he says. "Let me get ready and I'll meet you at the shelter in about 30 minutes."
"Okay, I'll see you then," I say before I hang up the phone and continue getting ready. I walk through my New York penthouse apartment to my private elevator. I push the button and the doors open. I stick a key in the slot and the doors close taking me down to the lobby skipping other floors on my way down so no one else in my building travels in the same elevator cart as me. I enjoy my privacy being one of the most successful and famous business men in not only New York City but in the United States and throughout the world. I reach the lobby and wave to the man behind the desk before the doorman holds the door open for me as I step out into the busy sounds and sidewalks of the city. Growing up in Ohio in low income housing this is a different atmosphere for me. My driver waits outside my black SUV and opens the door for me as he sees me approach. I slide into the backseat and tell him where we are going before he closes the door. He climbs into the driver's seat and pulls off into the New York traffic as he takes us to the homeless shelter.
We pull up outside my homeless shelter that I began a couple of years ago. I have accomplished many things in my 30 years of life but opening numerous homeless shelters, hosting numerous toy drives and food drives to help out those less fortunate are my greatest accomplishments. It's great to be rich but it's even better to give back to the community and give back. I came up from nothing to where I am today. I know that life and I do everything I can to help those living in poverty or living without a home. I would rather be known for my good deeds than known for my business ventures. My driver lets me out of my car and I walk into the shelter to the smell of the lunch they are serving. "Mr. Ambrose," Natalie; the woman that helps run the shelter greets me. "How are you today?"
"I'm wonderful, how are you?" I ask as I get my apron, hair net and gloves on.
"I'm good," she says with a smile. "We have a pretty big turn out today," she gestures to the crowd of people lining up already for their helping of chicken noodle soup with a roll and a hot cup of coffee, hot chocolate or water.
"Wow," I say. "Where do you want me?"
"You can serve the soup if you would like, I'll take the drinks."
"Sounds good to me," I say with a smile before we reach our places after I carry out a big pot of Chicken Noodle soup. I begin serving them one by one, pouring soup into the bowl on their plate before handing them a roll. The people come non-stop and I am given a thousand thank-you's but a soft voice causes me to stop and look up as she tells me thank-you. I smile as I see her dark brown eyes sparkling before me. She's beautiful, dressed in torn clothes, her face dirty and her hair in a messy bun but she's beautiful none the less. "Hey," I say with a smile.
"Hey," she says softly with a smile showing her white teeth. "Thank-you," she says again before she takes her tray and moves on in the line. I watch her get a drink from Natalie and watch her find a seat at one of the tables.
I am relieved when Roman arrives at the shelter. He walks up to me and says, "what can I do?"
"Can you take over here?" I ask. "I'm going to go take a quick break."
"Sure," he says as I hand him my stuff. He takes over serving soup as I nonchalantly walk around the shelter greeting everyone asking them how they are as an excuse to get to the girl I served soup to. I smile as I finally reach her table as she's eating by herself.
"Hey," I say with a smile.
"Mr. Ambrose," she says as she stands up. "I'll move if you need this table," she offers.
"Please call me Dean," I say, "and no have a seat," I say.
"Are you sure, Dean?" she asks.
"Positive," I say as I take a seat at the table with her. "You don't mind if I sit here do you?" I ask.
"You want to sit here with me?" she questions as she looks at me with her big dark brown eyes. "Are you sure?"
"Why not?" I ask, "so I am Dean and you are?"
"Journey," she answers nervously.
"That's a beautiful unique name," I smile. "I like it."
"Thank-you," she says softly as she blushes making me smile. "So what are you doing here? Don't you have businesses to run? Or an empire to run?"
"I do but I enjoy spending time giving back to the community. I think my empire can last a day without my attention," I answer.
"That's nice of you. Many people like you probably wouldn't care about people like me or have a place like this," she says before spooning soup into her perfectly shaped mouth between her full pink lips.
"Well, I'm not like most people," I say, "and I do care about people like you and I do have a place like this, I have many places like this actually. They are my greatest works."
"Not your billions of dollars from your empire?" she asks.
I let out a soft chuckle and say, "Money doesn't make a person rich good deeds make a person rich. It's okay to have money but it's even better to help those that need help," I explain.
"Wow," she says, "you sound like you truly care. Are you sure this isn't about your image to the public?"
"I do truly care and it's not about my public image it is about who I am as a person. If I didn't care I wouldn't be sitting here and I wouldn't be here today. I would be playing with my billions of dollars," I say.
"Why do you care so much?" she asks.
"Because I wasn't always rich," I answer honestly. "I didn't always have billions of dollars I came from nothing and built my way to the top. I enjoy giving back and helping those stuck where I used to be. I do truly care, Journey."
"I'm sorry," she says with nervousness in her voice. "I didn't know."
"It's okay," I say with a smile. "So how do you like the soup?"
She shrugs, "it's food I haven't eaten for a while it's good to have something hot and something to eat. It doesn't matter what it is."
"I'm glad you're eating," I say with a smile. "I'll let you go so you can finish eating," I say as I stand up. "It was nice meeting you, Journey." I extend my hand to her.
"It was meeting you too," she says with a smile as she places her soft hand into mine and I shake it with a smile feeling a spark of electricity in her touch.
"Bye, Journey," I say with a smile.
"Bye, Dean," she says before I walk off to greet the other people in the shelter before I go back to serving them soup.
The next few days I returned back to work. I was stuck in business meetings with other companies, my own company and other countries but my mind isn't clear. I've been distracted since I went to the homeless shelter and met Journey. I want to get to know her, I want to hear her story. I want to see her again. I have been worrying about her since the day I met her and I don't even understand why. I have fed thousands of people but for some reason Journey is the only one I have felt this strongly about, the only one I have wanted to get to know more and get to see again. I had one last meeting to get through on this Friday evening but my mind was not in it at all. All I could think about was going to the shelter the next day to help feed the homeless again and the hopes of seeing Journey again. I needed to see her again.
When I walk out of my office building to the black SUV that is waiting for me my driver tips his hat at me as I climb into the backseat. "Are we going to the bar for your weekly drink?" he asks.
"No, take me to the shelter," I say in reply.
"It's Friday, Sir," he questions. "I thought we went to the shelter on Saturday mornings?"
"We're going out of my routine," I respond, "Please take me to the shelter on 25th street," I command.
"Yes, Sir," he says with a tip of his hat before shutting the door. He walks around to the driver's side and climbs in behind the steering wheel. He starts the engine and eases into the Friday night Manhattan traffic of business men and women leaving ready to begin their weekends free from the office life we are all very accustomed to. He rolls my window down slightly and the cool late September breeze hits me in the face as we sit bumper to bumper traffic.
By the time we arrive at the shelter the sun is starting to set in the sky leaving an array of orange and pink painted on the sky, the temperature has dropped enough for me to put a jacket on over my three piece suit I wore to work this morning. Brantly; my driver, opens the door for me and I step out onto the sidewalk outside the shelter. I have so much hope that Journey is in there ready to spend the night to keep warm as the autumn temperatures are falling into place, at least I hope she's safe inside the shelter. I open the door to the shelter and walk in. "Mr. Ambrose," says Natalie as she stands to her feet. "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow. Is something wrong?"
"No, Natalie," I say, "everything is just fine. I actually came to see if there was someone here. I'm looking for someone I met the other day. Can you help me?"
"It depends, who are you looking for?" she asks.
"Journey," I answer. "Is Journey here?"
She smiles at me and says, "yes Journey just arrived about 45 minutes ago. Would you like me to get her for you?"
"No, I can find her," I say as I make my way through the shelter to find Journey. I walk into one of the rooms to see Journey sitting on a sleeping bag with a duffle bag leaning against the wall reading a book. "Journey," I say.
She looks up at me from her book and smiles, "Dean? What are you doing here?"
"Get your things," I say, "you're coming with me."
"What?" she asks with shock.
"I want to help you," I say, "are you coming?"
"You don't know me," she says.
"But I want to get to know you, come with me, Journey," I say extending my hand for her to help her up. She closes her book and puts it in her duffle bag. She takes my hand and I help her off the floor. We walk out of the shelter together, my driver opens the door for us after looking at me with shock. I nod and he allows her into the back of the SUV. I crawl in behind her. "To the penthouse," I instruct. He nods his head and shuts the door.
*A/N: What do you think? Is it a keeper or not? Why do you think Dean was so worried about Journey? What did you think of the two meeting for the first time? What are your thoughts on him taking her back to his penthouse? Do you think it was a good idea? What do you think of Dean's attitude to being rich and his attitude to helping people? Please review and thank-you for reading.