by Emily Childs
I’ve decided I like Veronica and have to resist the urge to tell her not to settle for a player like Liam. He scraped up a date in a day, and the way he’s been talking it’s obvious he’s with her for only one thing. Then again, I’m positive Veronica is fully aware and still on board. To each their own.
They’re distracting, and I almost forget my room key matches Sawyer’s until we’re halfway up to the third floor.
“I was able to switch for a room with a casita type thing. We’ll have a little more privacy, but there’s only one bathroom,” he tells me.
“Fine,” I say. I can be an adult about this, but being attached in the same vicinity as Sawyer will be an adventure I didn’t want.
The elevator doors open and like the Red Sea, we split. I watch Liam and Nic practically skip to a room to the left, while I stand stiff and prickly three feet from Sawyer. He jams his keycard into the door and doesn’t invite me to follow him inside.
The door clicks closed behind him and I take a few deep breaths in the hallway. I hurry and blast off a text to the girls: 911! My roommate is not female. In fact, he’s very Sawyerly male! Pep-talk ASAP!
Until then, any pep-talks are coming from me.
You’ve got this. No one says you need to talk. There’s plenty of work to do between now and dinner. Keyword: headphones. He doesn’t smell like Christmas and the beach rolled into one. He is not the guy who has ruined all other men for you.
Well, that last one . . .
What did I say? He is not the guy!
I’m starting to look like a lunatic standing out here all by myself. With a deep breath, I lift my chin because this doesn’t bother me in the least, and step into the room.
Chapter 10
Sawyer
An hour of silence is about as unbearable as knives scraping across fine china plates. By the time Dot came into the room, I’d claimed the far bed, leaving the small nook room with a full-sized bed for her, and changed into my shirt and tie.
She said nothing as she unpacked her toiletries in the bathroom. Though, I did hide a grin when she started humming. I miss all her quirky things when she’s thinking or keeping busy. The tongue out one side of her mouth, humming eighties songs, reciting Star Wars trivia to keep her thoughts flowing.
Things to say start to surface, but I never form any words. Seems we’re destined to be silent roommates for the night, with unsaid things building like a poison between us. Fun.
Dot muffles a laugh. I peek into the doorway of her nook. She’s against the headboard, knees curled into her chest, her laptop propped on the tops, but she’s laughing at something on her phone.
I fight the urge to smile, but the muscles in my face put up a good fight. Adjusting the knot in my tie, I hurry my pace. Now would be a good time to get out of here, but we have things to talk about.
“I think we should go over the app before tonight,” I say.
Dot looks at me over the top of her computer. “Okay.”
She adjusts on her bed, making room for me to sit by her. I lick the dryness from my lips and hold my breath as I sit beside her. She smells like cherries. Like sugar. Her knee jabs into my thigh. I have the urge to rest my hand on her leg. Focus. Digging in my pocket, I remove my phone and ask to borrow her laptop.
“I just want to show you the nuts and bolts on how it works.” I login to my admin pages on the app site and start clicking around, from kickbacks, to code, to the mutual benefit of healthcare facilities and pharmacists. Then I show her how the app works, describe how simple it is for people.
Before I realize the time, it’s been forty minutes.
Dot laughs during one of my explanations on the structure of the app and how it rifles through the database to find the discounts.
“What?” I ask and set my phone down.
She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’ve hardly taken a breath. I forgot how much this nerdy stuff lights up your face.”
A smile is on my face. I hadn’t noticed. “This is incredibly cool, and in no way nerdy.”
She nudges my arm with her elbow and I burn for the touch to linger. “It’s a little nerdy.”
I roll my eyes and scoot off the bed. “Well, this little guy has basically paid for my retirement years, so if that makes me a nerd, then bring it on.”
Her smile falls slowly. A curtain closing on a wonderful show. “Was it worth it? All the work, I mean.”
I have no doubt she means something else, but going down that road is dangerous. Vulnerable. “In some ways.”
“Good.” Dot takes over her laptop again, eyes on the screen.
“I should go. Liam and I have that meeting,” I say after a long silence.
She lifts her eyes, the remnant of her laugh still on her face. Part of me wishes I could bring out her laughter again like I used to. It’s a sound worth hearing.
“Okay,” is all she says.
I clear my throat and tuck the room key into my pocket. “I guess we’ll meet you down there by five.”
“Okay.”
I swallow past the scratch in my throat. My blood is racing in unwelcome energy again. On instinct, I run my hand over the tattoo on my arm. Breathe and relax. I can’t lose my head every time Dot is around, or I’ll screw up every deal here from on out. “Okay.”
In the hall I lean back against the wall, let my head sit right again. The car ride had been telling. Dot wanted to pretend she has no skin in the game of our demise, fine. But it’s had me on edge since coming here. She’d looked at me like everything was on my shoulders, like I’d been nothing but callous. She has no idea how knowing her, how loving her, flipped my world on its head. I hate to admit it, but maybe Kyler is right and I should spit everything out. Why protect someone when clearly my ties with this family are long over?
The click of Liam’s door draws me back to reality. He’s all smiles as he claps my shoulder. “You look all messed up. Surviving in there?”
Get it together, Sawyer. I’m getting worse at hiding my disquiet. “Yeah, let’s go.”
The HealthyRx app is catching fire, and I’m glad. But it doesn’t mean I like video conferences with new clients and investors. Unfortunately, since Liam owns about two shares of the app, it’s really my brainchild to push forward. These are the moments when I wish Kyler were here. He has a sort of magic that lulls people into a trance and they can’t think or do anything until they buy from us.
Liam and I conference call, brainstorm growth, check on issues with L & H. By the time we’re finished, I feel like it would’ve been easier to stay at the office than try to find space at a resort to attend to all of this.
Liam settles a tab at one of the restaurants on the ground level, checking his phone. “Looks like Nic has forced your girl out of the cave, and they’ll meet us in the lobby before dinner.”
At his insinuation, my knee bounces. I clench one fist underneath the table as tight, nervous energy builds in slow swells. Little prickles of heat start from my fingertips, traveling the length of my arms, chest, shoulders, until my head is firing in all directions and I can’t find a thought to follow. My mind likes to follow them all. Some people are better at grounding me. My mom is a master. Kyler is pretty good. My oldest brother liked to get me spinning and unfocused—he said sometimes I’d ramble and say a bunch of weird stuff as a kid and it entertained him, I guess.
Dot. She was the best. A perfect balance of helping me stay on task while allowing thoughts to wander for—as she always said—creative purposes. Not exactly a lie. Some of my best ideas come when my body is jittery.
Thankfully, Liam doesn’t notice the fight to keep focused. He tips back his glass, finishing his drink and gently slaps the tabletop. “What do you think? She going to be a nightmare to work with?”
He’s still talking about Dot, I think. I offer a shrug. “She hasn’t been a nightmare so far.”
Liam grins slyly. “What does that mean?”
“Don’t go there,” I say with an eyeroll. �
��By the way, thanks for switching the rooms after I was held hostage in the car.”
“Hey, I know it’s weird since you dated the girl, or whatever, but there’s no way I was going to spend my night with you over a woman like Nic. You have eyes, right?”
I finish my drink and stand. Sitting any longer is becoming impossible. “Be careful, Liam. She works for us.”
“And expectations have been made very clear.” He claps me on the shoulder. “I’m going to get ready. Meet you in the lobby in a bit.”
Alone, I wander the long way back to the room.
The resort is nice. High ceilings, open courtyards with palmettos and blossoming hedges. It’s muggy, but smells like silk and strangely, grilled onions wherever I go. Couples are everywhere. Not that I blame them, it’s a romantic place, but I resent them, too. The only woman I’d ever want to bring to a place like this is with me. But we’ll be keeping as much distance from each other tonight as possible. The tension between us is like a constant pin jabbing into my head. The gamut of emotions has been felt regarding Dot Gardener this last year. Anger, remorse, love. I wish I could say seeing her orderly mess again, smelling her perfume, hearing her humming left me feeling nothing. Quite the opposite. Earlier in the room I wanted to corner her, tell her how deeply she’d left scars on me, how I wanted to hate her. How I couldn’t hate her if I tried.
I should fake sick.
If Dot and Liam weren’t depending on me, I probably would. This was the end goal all along, working with the Gardener clinic. At first, I’d imagined the partnership a little differently, but I worked hard to get where I am, and I’m not going to let an unfortunate room pairing mess it up.
Breathe.
Focus.
I can do this.
***
Dot never returned to the room while I was getting dressed, which I was grateful for. Liam checks his watch and leans against the wall. It’s not often my business partner shows unease, but being late is not his forte. We have six minutes exactly before we’re supposed to be at the outdoor restaurant.
“Have you seen them?” Liam asks. “Where did they get dressed? Nic never came back to the room.”
“They know to be here,” I say, but I don’t want to be late either. “Maybe I’ll run upstairs and see if—”
I stop mid-sentence as the elevator doors ding and open. Veronica steps into the lobby first, dressed like she’s about to pose for the cover of a magazine. I’m sure she’s stunning, but I’m more focused on the redhead following at her back.
I’d always thought it was cheesy when guys said a woman took their breath away. I guess I’d forgotten Dot had that ability as her superpower, because I can’t breathe.
Her hair falls to her shoulders in soft waves, her eyes remind me of sapphires. Her dress hugs her body in all the right spots, showing off the tight curves of her waist. I could stare at her all night. Before I met Dorothy-Ann, I dated plenty, but something about her hooked deep inside of me and never let go.
I’m too distracted to even resent the power she has over me.
Over the year, I’ve learned well how to hide the truth, but by her I’m undone. Doubtless I always will be.
“Wow,” Liam’s voice draws me back to reality. He takes Veronica’s hand, pulling her tightly against his body. “You look amazing.”
She grins, so her nose wrinkles. “What did you expect?”
Dot approaches me with a touch of hesitation and lowers her voice. “Nic found a salon and insisted we get makeovers. I feel like a clown.”
My throat is dry and croaks a little. “You don’t look like a clown.”
Our eyes meet. Dot’s pale lips tighten, and her eyes shimmer. I wonder if mine look the same, as if all the words we won’t say to each other are threatening to break out.
“You don’t look so bad either,” she says.
I let my shoulders relax. “Not looking so bad is what I was going for, so.”
With a soft laugh, she steps ahead of me, leading us toward the restaurant. I’m definitely done for.
***
Turns out we weren’t the late ones. The three interested investors—Mr. Willow, Mr. Thompson, and Mr. Greer—all strolled in ten minutes after us. Each brings an area of expertise. Mr. Willow is a well-known tech giant on the East Coast. Thompson is a man who turned philanthropy into a million-dollar business. Sort of seems like an oxymoron to me. And Greer likes to think he knows everything about modern healthcare since he is the CEO of a string of hospitals in the Midwest.
Veronica and Liam sit between Dot and me, and I somehow became stuck by Mr. Greer’s wife whose only interest is gabbing with the women about handbags.
“So, boys,” Mr. Thompson says, words slurring a bit. He’s had at least four glasses of wine. “I’ve been impressed with your work and returns on non-profits. I hear you’ve really turned around a little thing up near Charleston.”
“You heard right,” Liam says. “A low-income clinic open seven days a week now.”
“That’s my boys.” Thompson lets out a booming laugh that rattles the forks.
Dot’s eyes narrow, cheeks flushed. I don’t blame her. We’ve done nothing but negotiate with her clinic and Liam is taking the credit for making the place what it is.
I clear my throat. “You know it’s pretty early in our work with them, Mr. Thompson.”
“So what?” He takes a swig of wine and a chunk of red velvet cake. “You saying you don’t know much and it was all luck, then? Too bad, I was about to say I’ve been impressed with you boys.”
Liam shoots me a with dagger eyes, but I’m not going to take credit for something I had little influence in creating.
“If you’re—”
“I’m hardly interested in a clinic,” Greer interrupts with a loud voice, as though his main goal is to out-shout a drunk Thompson. “I’m more impressed by this app of yours and how you use it to help clinics like this.”
My knees bounce and I steal a glance at Dot. She’s in the process of strangling her napkin on her lap from what I can see. The investors are getting loud, a little chaotic, and all the distractions are a little overwhelming. Maybe Dot and I have our issues, but I’m not going to just stand back while her efforts are buried.
“As I was saying.” I make my voice carry until all three men are looking at me. “As L & H we have our own track record that I think you’ll be interested in, including the HealthyRx startup app. However, Mr. Thompson, if you’re interested in the savvy behind a successful clinic in a small town, then you’ll want to talk to Miss Gardener. She’s the brains behind it.”
I’m not sure what surprises Mr. Thompson more, the idea that I’ve pushed him to someone else, or that a woman is the main event.
“A little thing like you?” he says condescendingly.
Dot locks me in a soft gaze. Her shoulders straighten, her chin lifts. She offers a calm grin to Mr. Thompson and says, “Sir, if we’re being blunt, we all know size doesn’t matter.”
The table freezes for a heartbeat, then erupts in Thompson’s earth-shattering laugh. He slaps the tabletop and glugs back another huge swallow of his wine and leans into Dot. “Okay, Missy. If you’re so smart, you tell me why your clinic beat the odds? What’s been your strategy and what are the future goals”
Again, her soft eyes find me, as if she wants encouragement. I only smile back. She doesn’t need me. One thing about Dorothy-Ann I always loved is her capability to conquer the world, but her willingness to let me come along for the ride. Estranged now, but I can’t deny it feels nice being on another journey where I get to see her show she’s more than what her world tried to make her become.
“It’s all about the markets, Mr. Thompson,” she says. “A small-town has its own culture, its own vibe in a way. Like a novel has elements—tropes, if you will—so does a small community like Honeyville. We’ve worked hard to mesh our staff, our values, and our own culture in the clinic to hit those tropes.”
And she’s off.
Thompson grills her, but Dot is there with technical terms like market research, economical curves, revenue stats. All of it until she’s caught the attention of the other two men. Their wives seem utterly bored, but I revel in the way Veronica is enraptured in Dot’s confidence, her unwavering firmness when these over-the-top alpha males try to make her bend with a few questions, phishing for the true brains behind the clinic. As if a woman like her couldn’t possibly handle it all.
There are thousands of female CEOs in the United States, I’m a little flabbergasted how these guys could remain stuck in a different time when the workforce made a shift thirty years ago.
“What do you think, Mr. Lanford?”
Heat blooms down my neck as I’m brought back to the conversation. I’d spaced out for a second and have no idea what they’re talking about. Nerves ping-pong in like sparks under my skin as I try to think of a way to cover that I hadn’t listened to the last half.
Liam laughs. “You don’t want to give Sawyer too much information at once, Mr. Thompson.” By Liam’s tone, clearly he’s trying to salvage my mishap, but I don’t like where he’s heading, and in the next sentence, he crosses the line. “He’s got that thing, the adult hyperactivity, attention thing. So he’s like a racoon finding something shiny. Good with tech, but if you want focus, I’ll be the one to give you the details.”
A handful of people know about my diagnosis. A handful. It’s not something I flaunt for obvious reasons. What serious business wants to grow with a guy who can hardly keep track of his to-do list?
I know it happens, because a year ago a big businessman refused to let me marry his daughter over my stupid head.
My stomach is in knots, and I don’t even know what to say when the investors laugh with Liam, but they laugh at me. Liam knows I don’t share it with many people, so this is a cut of betrayal in my eyes.
Dot clears her throat and steals the attention again. “Mr. Hewitt and I view things in this regard very differently.”
Thompson is smitten with Dot and beams at her. “What makes you say that?”
