“My clients come to me.” She looked down one street, then the other, but didn’t take a step in either direction.
“How do they know what you do?” He half expected her to pull a sign out of her purse and wave it at passing cars.
“They don’t.”
“I see,” he said, even though he didn’t. She probably left her cards in jars or on bulletin boards at business establishments. Her eyes darted up and down the streets around them, as if she were anticipating the arrival of someone. Perhaps he’d misunderstood when she’d said she needed to find a new client and she worked with referrals. “Is one meeting you here?”
“Not exactly.” She chewed her bottom lip and gave Eric a once-over. “You’re messing with my radar.”
“Is it my piercing blue eyes or the broad shoulders that you find most distracting?” he joked, hoping to bring a smile back to her face.
“No, it’s your humility I can’t resist,” she snarked, but her eyes slid over him, and she blushed.
She does find me attractive. I knew it.
His chest puffed with pride. Over the years, major online magazines had bestowed titles on him based on his appearance. World’s Sexiest Man. Hottest Superhero. None of it had ever mattered to him. However, when Sage glanced at him from beneath those long lashes of hers, he felt like a schoolboy discovering his first crush liked him back. They looked into each other’s eyes long enough that Eric began to lean in.
“Let’s walk,” she said, and sidestepped away from him.
He followed, releasing his breath slowly as he lengthened his stride to keep pace with her. There’d be plenty of time later for what he’d just vividly imagined doing with her. This day was about getting to know her on a different level. “I should have said it at the time, but what you did for that little girl at the fountain was—intense.”
Sage slowed her pace. “Thank you. I hope it helped their family in some way.”
He nodded. “I’m sure it did.”
She pocketed her hands in the front of her jeans. “You didn’t seem happy with me at the time.”
“It wasn’t anything about you.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
She hunched her shoulders forward. “Well, if you change your mind—I’m a good listener.”
He already knew that about her. They walked in comfortable silence for a couple of blocks. Unlike many people he knew, she didn’t take every pause in conversation as an opportunity to talk about herself. It piqued his curiosity even more. “You obviously didn’t grow up in London. What brought you here?”
“A friend.”
“Male?”
She shot him an odd look. “No.”
“What’s her name?”
“Bella.”
“She’s your . . . ?”
“Best friend.”
“Ah.” He wouldn’t have cared if their relationship had been more intimate, but it was nice to know he wouldn’t face that kind of competition. “Longtime friends? Let me guess, she lived across the street when you were little.” He liked the idea of Sage having that Norman Rockwell kind of childhood.
Sage shook her head. “Boarding-school buddy.”
“Which school?”
“Wordsloe Academy.”
His gaze snapped to her profile. She didn’t give off the vibe of someone who’d had an expensive education, but he didn’t doubt it. What he didn’t yet understand was how she’d gotten to a place where she was struggling to pay her rent. “Impressive.”
“To my parents, perhaps. I can’t complain. It provided me with a solid foundation in my chosen path of study.” She smiled. “And I met Bella.”
“Are your parents in the London area?”
“Not often.” There was a sad wistfulness in her tone.
“Are you close with them?”
She stopped walking and turned to Eric. “Do you want the truth or the public version?”
He ran his hand lightly down her arm in a move that initially had been meant to reassure her but that felt instantly intimate. “Whichever you’re comfortable sharing with me.”
She held his gaze for a long moment before saying softly, “I play six instruments. I speak four languages fluently and can understand at least nine others. Yet for as long as I can remember, I have been an utter disappointment and embarrassment to my parents. I’m their only child. You’d think that would make me special, but it doesn’t. They don’t come see me because they don’t want to. Their lives are easier when I’m not part of them. That’s the real relationship I have with my parents.”
“Come here.” He pulled her to his chest for a hug. He could have said he understood, but this wasn’t about him. Someone else might have told her to ignore her parents’ opinions, claiming it didn’t matter. Eric knew it did. He’d never known how to connect with either of his own parents. His mother hadn’t known how to fit him in with the new family unit she’d created for herself after leaving his father. His father had remained aloof yet judgmental. Yes, he knew exactly how much family could cut one to the core. So despite the people passing them on either side, he simply held her.
She stood awkwardly in his embrace at first, then laid her forehead on his chest and seemed to give herself over to the moment. It wasn’t a dramatic, tear-filled scene—but it was packed with more emotion than Eric had allowed himself to feel in a very long time.
Eventually she raised her face. “Sorry. I don’t usually vomit my private life on people like that.”
He traced her chin with his thumb. “You can vomit on me anytime—” He stopped and shared a smile with her. “Figuratively, I mean.”
“Thanks.” She stepped out of his embrace, looking bemused. “I appreciate both your offer and your clarification.”
To lessen the tension, and because he wanted to maintain their connection, he offered her his elbow. “Shall we continue on?”
“We shall.” She placed her hand on the crook of his arm and fell into step beside him.
They came across a small, tree-shaded park. It reminded him of another day and place. “I almost had a daughter once. At least, that’s what Jasmine said. She would have been the age of the girl at the fountain.”
“Almost?” Sage’s hand tightened on his arm, but she didn’t break pace.
“I was engaged to a woman who didn’t love me. She aborted the child when she discovered it.”
Sage gasped. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged, downplaying how he felt out of habit. “It was probably for the best.”
She stopped then and looked up at him. “You don’t believe that.”
She saw past his act, and it knocked him off-balance. “No, I don’t,” he said tightly as his throat closed with emotion.
“Did you love the mother?”
“I thought I did,” Eric said, and realized the memory of Jasmine no longer had the power to sadden him. “She didn’t want me, though, only what I could do for her.”
He waited for her to say something trite or inspirational, but she didn’t. Instead, she nodded and urged him to walk with her again. He knew in that moment that she understood him in a rare way. He didn’t require reassurances. He would have rejected any declaration that he would one day have that daughter—as if children were interchangeable. Even if he and some future woman bore a dozen children, a corner of his heart would always belong to the daughter he’d never met.
Once inside the small park, Sage released his arm and sat on a bench. Eric joined her, close enough that they were almost touching. They sat for a while before either spoke again. Oddly, the quiet was comforting.
Sage finally asked, “Do you remember the person I told you I regretted telling off?”
Eric turned to face Sage more. “Yes.”
“She didn’t seem like a very nice woman.”
“So maybe she did deserve what you said.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t change how I feel. I want to apologize to her.
I just can’t decide if that will make things better or worse.” Her small shoulders rose and fell. “Bella says sometimes it’s best to leave well enough alone. What do you think?”
Eric grimaced. “I’m no expert. I’ve never been accused of being a good person.”
She scanned his face before saying, “I didn’t ask you what you’ve been accused of—I asked you what you thought.”
Nothing he’d ever experienced, no drug he’d ever taken, had ever felt as good as being given a chance to redefine himself. With Sage, Eric didn’t carry the weight of every mistake he’d ever made. He could finally, simply, be himself. “You should trust your own instincts.”
Sage clutched her purse on her lap. “I don’t want to be anyone’s doormat, but I need to leave people better than I found them.”
Need? Leave? The words stood out to him. She wasn’t seeking a relationship with this woman she felt compelled to comfort. So why care about her at all? What drove Sage? When he’d first met her, he’d thought her profession was a flighty fantasy. She hadn’t come across as someone he could take seriously. He was beginning to believe she had scars as deep and dark as his own. He was choosing the best way to phrase his next question when she slapped a hand on his thigh.
“I’ve found my next client,” she exclaimed in an excited whisper.
He fought his body’s lusty reaction to her touch and looked around. There were several people in the small park. “Who?”
“The man sitting on the bench behind you.”
Eric tensed. He didn’t like the idea of her looking at, forget about working for, another man. He swung around.
Sage grabbed his arm and said quickly, “Don’t be obvious.”
I’ll be what I need to be, Eric thought, giving in to a novel wave of possessiveness. Relief flooded in when he realized that the object of her attention was an older man of small stature and silver hair. “Him?”
Still holding Eric’s arm, Sage whispered, “Yes, him. Now turn around before you scare him off.”
Eric obediently turned back toward Sage. Pink rushed to her cheeks, and the fire in her eyes made saying no to her unthinkable. “Do you know him?”
She shook her head, sending her ponytail whipping back and forth. “No, but he has to be the one.”
“The one?”
“I told you—my clients find me. He came to this park for a reason.”
“And you think you’re that reason?” He regretted the question as soon as he voiced it. It sounded more sarcastic than he’d meant.
She looked away and then back. Her back straightened with defensive tension that he’d put there. “You don’t have to believe in me or in what I do, but please leave if you don’t intend to be helpful.”
Leave? No chance in hell. “What do you need me to do?”
She studied his expression, seeming to gauge his seriousness, then stood. “Follow my lead.”
He stood and squared his shoulders. “Let’s do this.”
She placed her hand back on his arm, but as if he were a prop rather than a partner in crime. Like him, she didn’t give her trust easily. She’d told him that only one other person knew what she did.
He hoped it wasn’t because it was criminal.
He couldn’t overlook pickpocketing, no matter how adorable she was. He wanted to believe she was about to offer to help the man with a plant issue, but how could she know if he had one? The way she talked, it sounded more like he was a target than a potential client. Eric took a closer look at the man they were approaching. Hunched forward, he stared blankly ahead, holding a collar and leash in his hands. A profound sadness hovered about him.
Somehow, Sage intended to help him. At least, that was what Eric wanted to believe—needed so fucking much to believe. He pulled Sage to an abrupt stop beside him. “About that woman you offended.”
“Yes?”
“Apologize to her. Not because it’ll make things better, but because it’s the right thing to do.”
A huge smile spread across Sage’s face. “Thank you. You get me.”
I hope to God I do.
Sage had never shared this part of her process with anyone else—not even Bella. She had described it to her best friend, but it wasn’t something Bella would have understood. It required trusting in a way that defied logic. Sage didn’t have any special powers or even a gift. What she did have was an open heart and a desire to help people. The formula required no magic—just patience and the belief that people were often much more than they first appeared.
Wayne was the perfect example of the last part. He’d been rude and dismissive, then withdrawn and angry. Yet, a few moments earlier, he had not only comforted her but had also shared something that still hurt him deeply. He was reaching out.
When she’d first met him, she’d thought he would be her next client. He was definitely troubled enough. Being with him was so much more complicated than that.
Sage didn’t share personal information with clients. She certainly didn’t tell them about what she did. The people she helped hired her to care for their plants. While in their lives, she did what she could to bring joy back into everything. They paid her for her work with their plants. That was simply how it worked.
So if Wayne wasn’t a client, what was he?
That thought was put aside as she and Wayne reached the older man. Sage tugged on Wayne’s arm. “You’re so wrong,” she said in a playful voice.
It took him only a heartbeat to fall into step with her. “I don’t believe I am,” he said just as lightly.
“Here, I’ll get us a tiebreaker.” Sage stopped just in front of the man who was too lost in his own sadness to notice her. “Excuse me, sir?”
The man looked up as if startled and stashed the leash away as if the act of holding it and the collar was shameful. “Yes?”
“A friend of mine has been quite sad recently. I’m looking for the perfect houseplant to cheer her up. Which do you think she’d prefer? Fuchsia or snapdragons?”
“My vote is for the snapdragons,” Wayne said smoothly.
The man blinked a few times, as if the question required returning from somewhere far off. “I—I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“Lilacs give off a constant mood-lifting aroma. On the other hand, begonias are hardier and can be transplanted outdoors. My friend has been so down. This is an important decision. Which would cheer you more?”
The man rubbed a hand roughly over his face, stood, and stuffed his hands into his jacket pocket. “I’m sorry. I don’t know much about plants. I came to the park to be alone.”
“No. No. We’re sorry. We didn’t mean to intrude.” Sage held out a card to the man. “I’m a plant psychologist, so I take vegetation very seriously.” She smiled with warmth and waited.
“A plant psychologist?” The man frowned and accepted the card, turning it over as if it did something special.
Sage nodded. “Keep my number in case you ever find yourself with a droopy houseplant.” She leaned forward and placed her hand lightly on his forearm. “Or with a home in need of a little uplifting. Plants have health benefits. They increase indoor oxygen levels, raise the humidity, and have even been known to lower anxiety. I suggest one houseplant per hundred square feet, but that’s just my preference.”
He looked back and forth between Sage and Wayne. “If you’re selling anything, I’m not interested.”
Sage hugged Wayne’s side. “I don’t sell plants, just counsel them, right, Wayne?”
Wayne gave her a strange look, as if what she’d just said had made him uncomfortable. Sage tensed, hoping her partner would stay in character. His features transformed into an easy smile, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her closer. “As far as I know, that’s all she does.”
“Thank you, but I don’t have any plants,” the older man said as he held the card out for Sage to take back.
Sage didn’t. Instead she tugged on Wayne and began to walk away. “Keep my card in case you ever do
. They really warm a home up. I also help people introduce new plants into their lives—even ones they’ve bought at convenience stores. Well, it was nice to meet you.”
“I guess,” the man said slowly, pocketing the card.
They were several feet away when Wayne said, “Sorry that one didn’t work out for you. I have some friends who might be interested—”
Sage stepped away from Wayne. Walking with him as if they were a couple was playing havoc with her senses. “He’ll call me.”
Wayne looked back over his shoulder at the man, still standing where they’d left him. “I wouldn’t bet your rent on it.”
“I would. In fact, I am. When you send good out into the universe, good comes back.”
Wayne made a sound of disgust. “That’s not how things work. I know—I mean, there are plenty of horrible people who are wealthy beyond what they deserve.”
“Who are probably the unhappiest people on the planet. Would you really want to trade places with them?” Sage paused and turned to look up at his face.
“No. No, I wouldn’t.” He lowered his mouth to hers. Sage swayed forward into his unhurried, tender kiss. His hands cupped her face as he explored her lips and delved in to meet her tongue with his.
Warmth spread through Sage, but not just from desire. Being with him felt right and beautiful. As a person who followed her heart, right then she could hear it screaming that he could be the man she was meant to spend the rest of her life with. Bella saw enough divorced couples come through her office that she didn’t believe in soul mates, but Sage still did.
Wayne raised his head. His ragged breath matched Sage’s.
“Wayne—”
“Don’t call me that,” he growled, his hands dropping from her face.
Still muddled from the kiss, Sage blinked fast and shook her head. Had she said the wrong name? I think I said Wayne. God, I hope I said Wayne. What else could I have said? She reached for him. “Did I—”
He stepped back. “Forget it.”
How could she? Whatever she’d called him had just ruined what had possibly been one of the best moments of her life. “If I said something wrong, I didn’t mean to.”
Hollywood Heir (Westerly Billionaire Book 4) Page 6
