CHAPTER NINE
♫~♫~♫
SAWYER LIVED IN a small apartment complex—six units total.
The one she rented wasn’t the largest, but she didn’t care about interior square footage; all she needed was a bed to lie her head on at night, fairly modern plumbing to wash off the sweat and grime of a day toiling in the dirt, and a working oven to feed her baking habit.
The location was only minutes from work—a definite plus. However, what sold Sawyer was the garden. Beck could hear the pride in her voice as she opened the sliding glass door.
“Mine is the only apartment with its own backyard. I had to wade through decades of weeds and neglect, but the result was worth the effort.”
Beck took a seat on the small cement patio. Ringo, who was thrilled to be included in tonight’s activities, decided to explore, starting with the bowl of water Sawyer set out especially for him.
Under the shade of a blue and white umbrella, he breathed in the scent of fresh basil from a nearby potted plant. On a glass-top table was a pitcher of iced tea and a plate of pre-dinner goodies.
“Decades of weeds?” he teased, popping an onion dip-covered cherry tomato into his mouth.
“Could be I found where the mob buried Jimmy Hoffa.” Unable to keep a straight face under Beck’s stare, Sawyer laughed. “Or the bones of a very large squirrel circa I have no idea.”
“You’re better off with the squirrel,” Beck said. “Solving a long-standing murder mystery might seem like a good thing. Trust me, the notoriety and constant hounding by the press isn’t a walk in the park.”
“Like when Razor’s Edge broke up?” Sawyer rushed ahead. “I’m not asking for details. A simple yes or no will suffice.”
“Yes.”
With a nod, she handed him a glass of iced tea and kept her word; all talk of Razor’s Edge was over as if the subject never came up at all.
“How was your date?”
Beck shouldn’t have been surprised. Asking about his date, clearing out any bad air left from their last meeting, was such a Sawyer thing to do.
“You want details?”
“Did you have a good time?”
“Not really,” he admitted.
“Then, yes. I definitely want details.”
Snorting into his tea, Beck let his gaze meet her twinkling hazel eyes. One of a kind.
Normally, he wouldn’t tell one woman about his date with another. But what the hell. They were friends and though the memory of yesterday’s awkwardness was still fresh in his mind, their social lives seemed like the kind of thing two pals would discuss.
“Have you met Holly Cole?”
“Runs the radio station?” Sawyer nodded. “Your mother introduced us. She was your date?”
“Mm.”
“And?” Leaning closer, Sawyer crossed one jean-clad leg over the other. “Was she good company? Like me?”
“No one is quite like you,” Beck assured her and was rewarded by a beaming smile. “Good company doesn’t quite describe Holly.”
“Fun?”
Beck shrugged.
“What word would you choose?”
Taking a moment, Beck searched his brain.
“Odd.”
Holly Cole spent most of the evening talking about her ex-husband. One second, the guy was a snake, the next, God’s gift to mankind. Her waffling attitude lasted through appetizers, dinner, and a piece of cheesecake she pushed around the plate but never reached her mouth.
“Rather than sit through a movie neither of us wanted to see, I drove her home. At her door, she half-heartedly invited me in.”
“You said no,” Sawyer said without hesitation.
“What makes you so sure?” Beck demanded. “For all you know, I gave Holly a night of unbridled passion she will never forget.”
“Men,” she scoffed. “You fear the good guy label like the Wicked Witch of the West feared water.”
“Interesting analogy,” Beck said with more snark than he intended.
Ignoring him, Sawyer continued, “Be proud. You’re one of the good guys, Beck; an increasingly endangered breed. The kind of man who tells the truth and admits when he makes a mistake. Someone a woman can trust not to take advantage when she’s vulnerable and prone to bad decisions.”
“Sleeping with me would be a bad decision?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
“Not just you. Anyone. Lucky for Holly, she wasn’t on a date with someone less honorable.”
Beck equated good and honorable with boring and staid. Sawyer, with her husky voice and warm hazel eyes, made the traits sound kind of sexy.
“I declined her invitation,” he admitted.
“Then told her to call her ex and see if he missed her too.”
“How did you know?”
“Because good guys do good things,” Sawyer said. “And I would have done the same.”
“Would you have promised yourself not to date another divorced woman unless the final decree was at least a year old? Oh, I forgot,” Beck sneered. “No need to make promises. You don’t date. Period.”
“Your assessment of my situation is accurate. And a bit harsh,” Sawyer accused. “Why does my dateless existence offend you?”
Beck held her gaze, daring her to look away.
“You know exactly why.”
Sawyer jumped to her feet. The quick movement disturbed Ringo’s exploration of her yard.
Happy for the interruption, the dog ambled toward her with a big silly grin on his face. He radiated pure joy and had the power to pull people from the deepest of funks. Sawyer was no exception.
Dropping to one knee, she wrapped her arms around Ringo’s neck, resting her cheek against the top of his head.
“You’d understand, wouldn’t you, boy?”
“He’s not the only one,” Beck promised. “Just give me a chance.”
“The plan was to eat a lot of pizza, washed down with even more champagne, before I spilled my guts.”
“Sounds like something better done on an empty stomach.” Beck smiled. “Think of my shoes and your clean patio. Overfilled guts tend to stain.”
Laughing, Sawyer took her seat. A completely smitten Ringo curled at her feet and immediately dozed off. He’d be there for moral support, but human drama wasn’t his thing.
“Thanks for lightening the mood.”
“Seemed only right since I’m the one who piled on the weight.” He squeezed her hand. “If you’re not ready to talk, we can wait.”
“No. I want to tell you.” Sawyer took a bracing sip of tea. “Talia’s been my only confidant and a stellar best friend. However, her sympathetic ear could use a break.”
“Trust me to fill in for her?”
“I do trust you.” She sent him a sheepish smile. “Too soon? We barely know each other.”
“I’ve known people for most of my life who I wouldn’t trust with the time of day.” Beck shrugged. “We connected. No rhyme or reason.”
“You’re not a placeholder for Talia or anyone. You’re too important.”
Beck cleared his throat. “Why?”
“Not sure. Yet. For now, important is all I can tell you.”
Fair enough, Beck decided. While Sawyer figured out the reason, he’d try to do the same.
“Do you mind if I start at the beginning? When I met David? Might take awhile,” she warned.
“Take all the you time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You might change your mind once I start.”
“No,” Beck said. “I won’t.”
Sawyer’s eyes widened, and she swallowed, hard. Good, Beck thought. She needed to understand. When he cared about someone, he didn’t go halfway. He went all in, or not at all.
“Tell me about David.”
Gathering her thoughts, Sawyer took a deep breath. Hesitant at first, soon, her words flowed like water.
“David was only eighteen the f
irst time I saw him.” Sawyer’s lips curved into a wistful smile. “He dazzled me.”
They met the first day of their senior year. David didn’t go to Sawyer’s high school. He was there to drop off a friend before heading to his fancy prep school in Beverly Hills.
“On paper, we were oil and water. David came from money, I barely qualified as lower class. My mother was on husband number four. When his parents vowed ‘til death do us part, they weren’t kidding.”
“True love?” Beck asked.
“Greed,” Sawyer corrected. “Divorce cost too much, socially and monetarily.”
Beck nodded his understanding.
“David was nothing like his parents.”
Sawyer went on to describe the perfect boyfriend. Kind, gentle, thoughtful to a fault. A little too perfect in Beck’s estimation. The guy had no flaws. However, David was her first love, her first everything.
Time and loss gilded Sawyer’s memories. Beck cut her all the slack she needed.
The romance moved quickly. By Christmas, they were in love. By spring, engaged. They were married the same day Sawyer graduated.
“David’s parents were shocked. Can’t blame them,” she laughed. “Until he showed up with a wife on his arm, they didn’t know I existed.”
Suddenly, divorce wasn’t such a dirty word. In fact, in Sawyer’s estimation, David’s father used the word a dozen times in the first half hour after she walked through the Hale mansion doors.
“Ward Hale was a powerful man, used to getting what he wanted the second he snapped his fingers. He was shocked when his oldest child defied him. Camille Hale used a different form of control. She cried. A lot. But through his father’s blustering and his mother’s hysterics, David held firm. We were married, and no amount of pressure would change his commitment to me.”
“Good for David.”
“I’m sure his parents believed with time, and enough money dangled my way, I’d eventually disappear. They were prepared to wait me out.” Sawyer’s voice lowered as the memories intensified. “What they weren’t prepared for was his next bombshell. David had joined the Army.”
Sawyer knew his plans. Though she wasn’t thrilled at the prospect, she knew David’s decision was a long time coming. He wanted to serve his country, and she supported him one hundred percent.
“To make him happy, I agreed to live with his parents while he went through basic training. David’s younger brother and sister weren’t thrilled to have me around, and the feeling was mutual.”
“Did David go to Afghanistan right away?”
“We had almost a year together before he was deployed. We were happy, Beck. Immature, yes. Naïve, definitely. But happy.” Sawyer’s eyes took on a faraway, dreamy look. “Perfect memories are rare, but I’m blessed with a few. Try as they might, his family couldn’t tarnish our time together.”
“What about your mother?” Beck asked. “What was her reaction to your marriage.”
“Her exact words? You bagged yourself a big one. Followed by, Does David have a rich, single uncle?” Sawyer sighed. “I didn’t bother to remind her that she was still married. When Mom’s on the hunt for new blood, her current husband ceases to matter.”
And once again, Beck thanked the fates for blessing him with Sandy Kramer, the gold standard of mothers.
“I didn’t let myself get tied up in knots when David received his orders to ship out. He would be gone for nine months, and I would be there when he returned.”
“Long time,” Beck said.
“We kept in touch, reminding each other after six months, he would be allowed two weeks leave. Something to look forward to.” Taking a moment, Sawyer sipped her tea. “David was in a war zone, but I tried to think only positive thoughts. Instead of dwelling on the worst, I threw myself into school.”
The first few months flew by. Sawyer loved her college classes and made friends easily. Then, something happened no one anticipated.
“Ward Hale suffered a massive heart attack while at his office. He was gone before the paramedics arrived.”
“Must have been a shock.”
Sawyer nodded. “He was only fifty years old, exercised, watched what he ate. Camille collapsed. She locked her bedroom door to everyone but her maid and personal physician. He kept her heavily sedated.”
Beck didn’t know what to say. He hated to judge someone he didn’t know. But dead husband aside, Camille Hale sounded like a self-involved bitch. Sawyer said nothing to dissuade his opinion.
“David’s brother and sister, Mills and Candi, were still in high school and seemed lost without their father’s larger-than-life presence. I wanted to help.” Sawyer shrugged. “They weren’t interested.”
Beck took her hand.
“Their loss.”
Sawyer’s fingers tightened around his, every muscle in her body tense and coiled. Beck waited, afraid he knew what came next.
“David was issued a hardship leave. On his way to board a plane for home, an enemy missile—” Sawyer faltered. When she continued, her voice was barely a whisper, “The helicopter was shot down. No survivors.”
Beck didn’t think, all he wanted to do was comfort her. Standing, he pulled Sawyer into his arms. Her body was stiff, unresponsive. Understanding, he waited, would have waited forever.
Slowly, her muscles relaxed until Beck thought she would have collapsed if he hadn’t been there to hold her upright.
How much time passed, he couldn’t say, didn’t care. Sawyer burrowed closer, and he was there for as long as she needed him.
“We should take a break,” Beck said when he noticed the sun hanging low in the sky.
“I haven’t finished,” she rasped. “The rest—”
“Can wait.”
Beck considered picking her up and carrying her inside. Quickly, he decided the gesture was out of place. She wasn’t fragile. She could stand and walk on her own two feet without any help from him. Maybe a little help.
Taking Sawyer’s hand, he guided her into the house.
“I’ll order the pizza.”
“Food sounds like a terrible idea,” she mumbled as she shuffled toward the bathroom.
“You can watch me eat.”
The door clicked shut behind Sawyer. Unsure what was going on but sensitive to the emotions of his human counterparts, Ringo sat a few feet from where she disappeared and waited.
“You keep an eye on her,” Beck told the dog as he scrolled through the numbers on his phone. Finding the right one, he hit dial.
“Bella’s,” a jovial voice answered. “Name your poison.”
“One of these days your unique greeting will get you in trouble.”
“Beck!” Mario Slate, the owner of the best Italian restaurant in town, laughed. “Unique is good, my friend. What can I do for you?”
“I need a delivery. Put a rush on it.”
Mario’s gratitude for his new kitchen, state of the art and built by Kramer Construction’s best crew in record time, meant when Beck asked for fast, he got fast.
“Side salad? Dessert? One bite of our lemon Tiramisu, you’ll weep happy tears.”
“Just pizza.” Beck remembered Sawyer’s preference. “Pepperoni and black olives.”
“To your place?”
“No.” He gave Mario the address.
“Ah, the lovely Sawyer. Why didn’t you say so? I’ll go heavy on the olives.”
With a promise of delivery in the next thirty minutes, Beck ended the call as the bathroom door opened.
“You look better.” Tired, but Beck kept the observation to himself.
Sawyer patted Ringo, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
“A few splashes of cold water on my face and good as new.” She bit her lip. “You’ll need to take my word, but I swear, I’m not usually the fall apart and swoon kind of woman.”
“Swoon? Fall apart? Please,” Beck scoffed, looking her over. “You barely wilted and look
s to me like all your pieces are exactly where nature put them.”
“Sweet of you to lie.” Sawyer smiled.
“I’m a good guy, remember? We never lie.”
Skirting a small table that served as a break between the kitchen and living room, Beck opened the refrigerator. He ignored the champagne—another day, another time—and retrieved two bottles of water.
“Hydrate,” he instructed Sawyer, watching as she took a drink. “Pizza’s on the way. Mario said hello, by the way.”
“He’s a doll.” She sank onto the sofa. “I need to apologize.”
“Only if you want to piss me off.”
“Will you turn green like the Hulk?”
“I’m no superhero,” Beck chuckled.
“Kind of built like one.” Sawyer’s head fell to the side as she rubbed her neck. “The last time I talked about David, about the day he died was… Honestly, I can’t remember. Talia was there when I received the news. We met in college and became fast friends. No need to explain because she knew what happened.”
“I’m lucky because I’ve never lost anyone. Not to death.” He thought of his old friends. Loss by idiocy wasn’t close to the same. “Except for my father, but he passed away before I could walk.”
“Doesn’t make the loss any less real.”
All Beck had were old pictures and a mother to keep alive the memory of a man he didn’t get the chance to know. Growing up with a father would have been great. But, unlike Sawyer who lived with and loved her David, he didn’t feel anything more than wistful regret.
The doorbell rang. Glancing at his watch, Beck was impressed.
“Twenty minutes. Mario deserves a medal.”
The pizza, as always, was hot, cheesy, and mouthwatering. Sawyer swore she couldn’t eat a bite. Beck didn’t argue.
“Sit and keep me company.” He retrieved two plates from the kitchen and a handful of napkins. “Table or living room?”
“Living room. While you’re there, grab the red box on the counter, please.”
Sawyer curled up in the corner of the sofa with her water. Taking the seat next to her, Beck set the plates on the coffee table. He handed Sawyer her box.
“Here you go.”
With a smile of gratitude, she pried off the lid, taking out what looked to be a bone-shaped cookie.
ALMOST BLUE Page 9
