Hmmm. She flicked through a bunch of the tabs she had open on her computer. That wasn’t until next week, that was invitation only, that one cost too much … oh, wait. The food pantry! One of their volunteer times was Wednesday night at six. Perfect.

At exactly 5:55 p.m., Olivia jumped out of the car in front of the community center and thanked the driver. She looked down at her outfit and made a face; she was in slim black pants, a silk blouse, and pointy black flats, which probably wasn’t the best outfit for volunteering. This had been her work uniform when she lived in New York—there it was perfect: almost always work appropriate, easy to dress up with a blazer and heels—but here in L.A. it seemed way too dressy for almost everything she did.

She walked into the building and followed the signs to the food pantry.

“Hi,” she said to the person at the door. “I’m here to volunteer. I’m Olivia Monroe.”

The woman at the door grinned and shook her hand.

“Hi, Olivia Monroe, I’m Jamila Carter. I’m the coordinator here. Welcome. Since this is your first time, I’ll show you around and get you ready to start.”

Olivia liked the looks of Jamila—somewhere in her late twenties, with long braids piled up into a huge bun on top of her head and a clipboard in her hand. Olivia instinctively trusted someone holding a clipboard.

“Is it that obvious that it’s my first time?” Olivia asked as they walked into the kitchen. “I should have worn something different, but I kind of came on the spur of the moment.”

Jamila laughed and shook her head.

“Your outfit is fine.” She stopped and looked Olivia over. “Well, okay, I see what you mean, but we’ll give you an apron. It wasn’t that; it’s that I’ve worked here since the beginning, so I kind of recognize everyone at this point. How did you find out about us?”

Olivia looked around the large, busy kitchen and was suddenly very glad she’d come tonight.

“I moved to L.A. pretty recently—I just started my own law firm here—and one of the board members brought me to the luncheon last week. I don’t live that far away, so I thought I’d help out.” She looked around. “This place is a lot bigger than I expected.”

Jamila set her clipboard down on the counter.