by Mara Jacobs
“One last thing,” Beck said. He’d moved from behind her back to the opposite side of the table—next to Andy, who had returned from the board. “Andy’s right. This could be the start of other projects with these investors, so we’ll want to make sure we get this one. The only way we’ll do that is by working together.” He looked at Andy for a second, but Deni couldn’t make out the look Sawyer was giving him. Neither could Andy apparently, as he only gave back a questioning look and a shrug of his shoulders.
Sawyer looked down at the table, then kind of braced himself and looked up. Directly at her.
“You,” he said to her.
“Me?” she said, pointing to herself.
“Yes. I want you there tonight. Meet me at the Commodore at six.” He turned his back on her—on all of them—and left the room.
Everyone turned to stare at her, looks of confusion on their faces.
Which matched her own.
Chapter Four
Depression opens the door to beauty of some kind.
~ James Hillman
Sawyer took a swig from his beer bottle and looked at his watch. Five minutes to six. No sign of her yet, but it was still technically early. He’d gotten here a half-hour ago, wanting to make sure he got a table in the room that looked out onto the lake. The other room was fine, too, but it was mostly populated with large, circular booths. He wanted to be able to look across a table at Pete Ryan as they talked, and he didn’t want Deni sandwiched between them. Besides, he wasn’t even sure Ryan could fit behind one of those booths. Sawyer hadn’t seen him in years, but the kid had been big in high school, and when Sawyer watched Red Wings games, Petey was one of the biggest players on the ice.
Just as he was about to bring the beer bottle back to his mouth, Deni walked in the room, looking around. She spotted him just as he gave a half-wave, and she walked across the restaurant, weaving around the tables.
She was still wearing her outfit from earlier, had probably come straight from the office. Sawyer had left shortly after his decree. But not before Andy told him it wasn’t a good idea. That Deni Casparich was their restoration expert. That something like this would be better handled by Randy if Sawyer wanted back-up.
But Sawyer didn’t want back-up. He wanted to hear Deni Casparich speak. He wanted to confirm whether her eyes were brown with gold flecks. And he wanted—desperately—to know if her toenails were also painted bright pink.
“Petey Ryan loves women. It wouldn’t hurt to have her at the table,” he’d said to Andy. Then he’d gotten the hell out of the office.
He’d run some errands around town, stuff he put off until he came to Houghton. Then he brought Lucy to his brother’s house to stay while he was at dinner. He could have left the dog at the office, but he’d wanted to check up on his youngest brother.
He hadn’t been home, but Sawyer had let himself in with his key and settled Lucy, hoping his brother would be home when he picked his dog up later.
“Hey,” he said to Deni as she got to the table. He stood up and helped her with her coat, draping it on top of his own on one of the two empty chairs at the table.
“Hi,” she said as she sat down next to him. Smart girl, she knew he’d want to be across from Ryan.
“Um…I’m not really sure why you asked me to join you…but…” She didn’t finish her thought, just looked at him.
No, he wouldn’t let her off with just that. “But what?”
She blinked her eyes at him. Yep. Brown. And yep, a flash of something in them. Of course, that could just be the exasperation she was trying to hide.
“But…” She looked down at her hands, running her finger along the pink nails of her other hand, as if she was surprised they were there. Then she clasped her hands together and looked straight at him. “But I guess I’m glad you did. This is good for me. It’s not often I get to sit in with a client at this stage. I’m hoping I learn a lot.”
“Prospective client,” Sawyer clarified, and she nodded. “And if I remember Pete Ryan very well, you might learn a whole lot. Just exactly how many curse words do you currently have in your vocabulary?”
A tiny bark of laughter erupted out of her.
There were certain sounds Sawyer did not miss living the life he did. Crowds. Cars. Machines.
But the sound of her laughter—short, unexpected, and just a little husky—that was a sound Sawyer knew he’d miss if he were to hear it on a regular basis.
But he wouldn’t.
He’d nail this down with Ryan. Maybe have to come back for a meeting or two, but basically hand it over to Andy to handle and head back up to the Harbor.
“You know,” she said, “it was very disappointing to learn you weren’t really the Brockway Mountain Hermit.”
“Really? You’re familiar with that legend?”
“Oh, yes. It’s one of my favorites.”
“I guess I had it in my head you weren’t from around here. I vaguely remember seeing new-hire information from Andy, and I thought we hadn’t hired any locals since Mac.”
“I’m not. I’m from Farmington Hills.”
“And you know the hermit legend?”
“Yes, I—” She was about to say more, but was eclipsed by the shadow of Petey Ryan.
“Hey, Sawyer Beck! How the hell are ya?”
Sawyer rose and shook the large man’s hand. Sawyer was almost as tall as Ryan, but the NHL player was broader by about a foot.
“It’s been a while, Pete. I’ve been good, how about you?” He was about to sit when he realized the tiny woman standing next to Ryan was actually with him. And it was someone Sawyer knew.
“Alison? Hi. I…” Sawyer stumbled on his words, shocked to see Alison Jukuri standing with Ryan.
“I know. We’ve just gone public recently, and everyone’s shocked we’re together. They can’t believe she’d ever go out with me.”
“Petey,” said tiny Alison Jukuri, elbowing Petey in the gut. “Hi, Sawyer. Petey said we were meeting someone from your firm for dinner, I just didn’t realize it would be you. I wasn’t aware you—”
“I made it a point to come down for this,” Sawyer said. “Local hero and all that,” he said as he took his and Deni’s coats from the chair he thought would remain empty and put them on the wide window ledge behind him.
“Fuck off, Sawyer,” Petey said as he and Alison got settled. “Hi, Petey Ryan.”
“Denise Casparich,” Sawyer heard her say as he situated the two more coats Petey handed him. He turned around to see Petey shake her hand and then point to Alison. “Alison Jukuri.”
A moment passed, and Alison stuck out her hand toward Deni. He watched as Deni hesitated, then took Alison’s hand and shook it. As she leaned back in the chair she said, “Actually, Alison and I know each other. She’s my therapist.”
Sawyer sat back down, looking from Deni to Alison and back.
Well, shit.
Chapter Five
A scientist discovers that which exists. An engineer creates that which never was.
~ Theodore von Karman
Well, nuts.
She looked at Sawyer for his reaction. Would he be repelled? Laugh? Mentally check off her working on any large project due to emotional instability?
He looked back and forth between Alison and her and then quietly said, “I’m sorry if this puts either of you in an awkward position.”
“Well, I don’t feel awkward about that, but Petey didn’t fully explain that this was a business meeting, so I’m happy to excuse myself,” Alison said, starting to rise from her seat.
Petey clamped a huge hand around her tiny wrist and held her hand to the table. “It’s not a strictly business meeting. Sawyer and I were just going to chew the shit about this thing over some beers and pizza.” They shared a look that Deni couldn’t decipher, and then he let go of Alison’s hand. “But if you want to bail, I’ll have Sawyer drop me off at The Ridges when we’re done, and I’ll meet you at your folks’ place.”
&nb
sp; Alison gave a short nod and Deni realized she was leaving to get Deni out of a possibly uncomfortable position.
“This isn’t strictly business, Alison,” Deni said. “It really is a meet-and-greet and broad discussion, so please stick around.”
Alison studied her for a moment, then nodded and sat back down. “Good, ’cause I’ve been thinking about Tostada pizza all day since Petey texted me.”
The waitress came, and they all ordered beers—except Deni, who stuck with water.
“Not a drinker?” Sawyer asked her.
“Not on a Wednesday, no,” she answered.
“Well, we’ll have to come back on a Friday,” Petey said as he studied the menu, oblivious to the other three looking at each other and knowing there was no way there would be a repeat of this dinner, on a Friday or any other day.
When Deni had started seeing Alison the previous October, Alison told her that she left it up to all her clients as to how they wanted to deal with the possibility of seeing each other in public.
“It’s a small town. Sooner or later, you see everyone somewhere. I’ll leave it up to you as to how you’d like that to play out. If you want to pretend you don’t know me, that’s fine. If you’d like to speak, but act like we know each other from something other than therapy, that’s okay, too. I don’t think there’s any reason to be ashamed that you’re in therapy, but I do realize it’s a private matter, and I’ll just follow your lead,” Alison had said at the time.
Funny that it took several months before they’d run into each other. Or maybe not so funny when you figured that Deni had started going home right after work at about that time.
She and Charlie had usually gone out for beers on Friday after work. And she’d been hiking on the weekends with her friend Claire that she’d met at the gym. But she’d started taking rain checks on those activities around October, and Claire had stopped calling. Even Charlie didn’t bug her anymore to go out for a cold one.
“You know what?” she said to the waitress as she brought Alison and Petey’s beers to the table and set down Deni’s water. “I will have a beer after all. Bud Light, please.”
The waitress let out a sigh, but returned to the bar area.
“So, Sawyer. Shit, man, it’s really good to see you. How many years has it been? Seven? Eight?”
“Ten,” Sawyer said with dead certainty.
“Really? That long?” Petey said, and took a drink of his beer.
The waitress returned with Deni’s beer, and she took a drink. Alcohol wasn’t a problem. She and Alison had discussed the possibility of anti-depressants, but Deni had wanted to hold off on that step until she’d tried the light therapy. Her SAD was mild, relatively speaking, and she wanted to see if she could get through this season without medication, though she knew it may be the next option available to her.
“I would have sworn it was only—”
“Ten. It’s been ten years,” Sawyer said firmly. He took a long drink from his beer, draining it. He held it up in the air, motioning the waitress for a refill.
“Oh, shit. Right. Of course. Sorry, man,” Petey said, looking sheepishly at Sawyer, then at Alison as if needing help.
She put her hand on Petey’s arm and squeezed. To Sawyer she said, “Petey only has finesse on the ice.”
Sawyer smiled at Alison and at the waitress, who handed him a fresh beer. The waitress sighed again, but in an entirely different way.
Deni didn’t blame her. Good lord, the man was handsome when he smiled. Too bad he didn’t seem to do it often.
His smile was so blinding that it took Deni a moment to realize that there was some undercurrent going on between the other three that she was unaware of.
“Dude, I’m really—”
Sawyer held up a hand. “It’s fine. Don’t sweat it.”
One of those “guy” looks passed between them, and just like that it was dropped.
They took a moment to look at the menu, then put their order in. Petey ordered another beer for himself. Deni and Alison worked on their first.
“So, Deni, is it?” Petey asked her.
“Yes. Short for Denise.”
“Becks here ever tell you he’s the only guy in the Copper Country who ever knocked me on my ass on the ice?”
“Ummm. I just met him today—so, no.”
“Well, he is. Only guy ever to do it. Shit, there are guys in the NHL who can’t knock me on my ass, and Sawyer here did it a few times.”
Sawyer snorted. “About a thousand years ago. And you were a freshman to my senior.”
“No other senior did it,” Petey said, then raised his beer and tipped it in Sawyer’s direction, a salute of sorts.
“You played hockey, too?” Deni asked Sawyer. He didn’t have the build that Petey Ryan did, but he was still a big man. Not having grown up in the U.P., Deni wasn’t as familiar with hockey as the natives were, but she had season tickets to the Tech games.
Though she hadn’t used them much this year.
“In high school,” Sawyer answered her. “For Calumet. Petey went to Houghton. Alison went to Hancock. All Copper Country, but…”
“You’re all rivals.”
The three of them looked at each other and broke into smiles. “You betcha,” all three said at the same time, causing Deni to laugh.
“How’s your brother doing?” Petey asked Sawyer.
“Which one?”
“I meant Huck. I saw Twain not too long ago. He was at Katie’s wedding last fall.”
“I’m not really sure. I haven’t seen him in quite a while. I left my dog there tonight, and I’m hoping he’ll be home when I pick her up.”
“Wait a minute,” Deni said, holding up a hand. “You have brothers named Twain and Huck? And you’re Sawyer?”
He nodded. “Yep. Mom was a bit of a Mark Twain freak.”
“So why not Mark? Or Tom? Or Samuel? Or even Clem for Clemens?”
“Mom was also a bit of a nut job.”
Deni laughed, and Sawyer smiled at her. The sheer voltage of his…his…manliness when he did that had her reaching for her beer.
“Baby, help me out here. Name some other Mark Twain novels,” Petey said to Alison.
“A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court.”
“Arty,” Petey proposed to Sawyer.
“The Tragedy of Pudd’nhead Wilson.”
“Willy,” Petey threw out. They all laughed. Petey turned to Alison and said, “Damn, if it doesn’t turn me on when you get all brainy.”
“Be good,” Alison said, warning in her voice. She looked embarrassed, which made Deni feel better about sitting at a table having beers with her therapist.
Petey leaned over to Alison, but Deni could still hear him when he whispered to Alison, “But baby, you don’t like it when I’m good.”
The look of intimacy that passed between them was so strong, so raw, that Deni had to look away.
And met Sawyer Beck’s gaze as he watched her.
He had the most expressive green eyes. Green, not brown as she’d thought back at the office. Everything else on his chiseled face was stoic, implacable. But his eyes… His eyes held a story. One that Deni couldn’t read.
“Katie has friends in the golf world who are sisters named Franny and Zooey after the Salinger novel,” Alison said, pulling Deni’s attention away from Sawyer and his eyes. Then, for Deni’s sake, Alison added, “Katie’s one of my best friends, and she married Darío Luna last fall. Darío and Petey are the ones who came up with this idea of an indoor driving range.”
“Yes, Andy told us a little bit about how the idea came to be,” Deni said.
“Basically, Darío needs a place to practice in the winter, and I need something to do with my time now that I’m retired.”
“Yeah, I heard about that. An injury? The knee, was it?” Sawyer asked.
“Yeah. But I’d actually decided this year was my last anyway. It just sped the process up a little.”
“I’m sorr
y about that,” Sawyer said.
Petey looked at Alison as he answered. “I’m not.”
Alison blushed, and Deni again felt like an intruder.
“So Alison, you and Petey? Are you sure it wasn’t you who was injured? Like a concussion or something?”
“Fuck off, Becks,” Petey said, then looked at Deni, “’Scuse my language.”
“Well, Deni, you got Petey to do one thing no one else in this town has been able to do—apologize for his language,” Alison said.
“I have two brothers—bad language doesn’t bother me.”
“That’s good. ’Cause if we’re going to work together, that’s pretty much a prerequisite,” Petey said, flashing a grin.
Wow. With a charm-filled grin like that, no wonder her mild-mannered therapist had fallen for this potty-mouthed brute of a man.
“Speaking of which,” Sawyer said, a bit of edge in his voice, “let’s talk a little business.”
Their food arrived, and as they ate, Petey brought them up to speed on what he was envisioning.
“The challenge is keeping costs down. First in building it and then in maintaining it. Because it’s never going to be a big revenue generator. And that’s not even the purpose.”
“What exactly is the purpose? Your main goal in this undertaking?” Deni asked. She wiped her hands on her napkin and pulled a tablet out of her bag.
“Well, I was only half kidding when I said it was for Darío to practice and me to have something to do. That’s a big part of it.” Deni jotted a few things down, then looked back to Petey for him to continue. “This area is golf crazy, second only to hockey crazy. And the golf season is so damn short, it just seems like it could be something people would use.”
“So, even if we used materials that let in most of the light during the day, we’d need enough lighting to clearly light it up in the evenings for night golf,” Deni said, writing again.
“Yeah, exactly. It’d have to be open late into the evening, so people could go after work, after dinner. You might even get a crowd of guys who go after they put their kids to bed, or would go do this instead of going out for a beer with their buddies. We’re even toying with the idea of trying to get a liquor license and having a few tables where guys could have a beer after they hit a bucket.”
