Not that Sawyer was lacking. If anything, he didn’t give himself credit for all he had to offer.
A door opened and closed downstairs, and I moved to the stairwell and peered down to see who it was. A woman with short, dark brown hair, appearing to be in her early fifties, walked into the foyer.
“Hello,” I yelled down the stairway, hoping to catch her attention. “Are you Florence?”
Florence usually came to the home a couple days a week, preparing meals and storing them in containers in the refrigerator. I’d been waiting to run into her so I could introduce myself.
She stopped mid-stride, her eyes lighting up and her lips falling into an easy smile. “Hello, there. You must be Ivy. Yes, I’m Florence. I’ve been keeping my eye out for you ever since Mr. Jeffries told me Sawyer hired an assistant.”
I jogged down the stairs, eager to meet her. Standing near the foyer, I held out a hand. Instead of shaking it, she clasped it between both of hers in an intimate gesture, as if we’d been friends for many years. Her large brown eyes were warm and friendly, and I instantly liked her.
“It’s good to meet you, Ivy. I’ve been wondering when I would see you. Sawyer told me you made lunch while I was out sick.” She chuckled. “It seems he didn’t hire you for your cooking skills.”
My mouth opened in surprise, and then her spirited laughter brought a grin to my face. “I tried to warn him.”
She looked me over from head to toe. “Well, I can see why he hired you after turning so many others down.” At my confused expression, she added, “You’re such a pretty young thing.”
I flushed. “I’m sure he didn’t think that during the interview. In fact, he made it obvious he didn’t want an assistant. We didn’t get off to such a good start.”
She glanced around, appearing to search for Sawyer.
“He’s upstairs taking a shower.”
She motioned for us to move into the living room. “Let’s chat for a minute.” She smiled as we settled on the off-white sofa. “Sawyer has some rough edges, but all in all, he’s a nice young man. He took a chance on me when no one else would.”
“How so?”
“When my husband ran off with another woman, he left me with three mouths to feed and no monetary support.”
“That must have been devastating,” I said.
“It was, but after he left, I didn’t have time to mope and lick my wounds. I had to find a job right away. I’d been cooking since I was a kid, but no one wanted to hire me because of my lack of job experience.” She smiled with a faraway expression. “Sawyer could have hired a top-notch professional chef, but he gave me a chance instead. Said he understood my suffering.”
Sawyer’s question during my interview came back to me. How have you suffered, Ivy?
“Florence, does anyone else work here who has a difficult past?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes, as a matter of fact. Henry lost his wife to cancer. Loretta doesn’t have a difficult past that I know of, but she supports her elderly parents.” Florence eyed me speculatively. “And what about you, Ivy? What’s your story?”
Immediately, I was ashamed because my heartbreak didn’t compare to what the others experienced. “Oh, I don’t have much of a story. Just a boyfriend who left me because he had feelings for someone else.”
She laid a hand on my arm. “I know what that’s like. It leaves you feeling like you’re not good enough.”
I nodded and stared down at the floor.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned,” Florence said, “it’s that God has a purpose in everything, and even when something like that happens, He’s using it for your good.” She laughed lightly, even though her eyes glimmered with emotion. “It’s hard to imagine good can come from a situation like that, but Jesus was rejected, and He understands that kind of pain. He wants us to trust Him—to believe He sees the bigger picture and knows what He’s doing. One day you’ll wake up and realize the good that came from your break-up. You’ll see God used it to strengthen you.”
My watery eyes met hers. “And what good did the Lord bring to your life after your husband left you?”
“I’d dreamed of becoming a chef since I was a little girl, but after marriage and a family, that dream was put on a back burner. I didn’t have the money to go to culinary school, not when I had three children to feed. But God brought Sawyer into my life, and he saw something in me no one else did.” She ran her hands over her black pants, smoothing the wrinkles. “He even offered to pay for classes, and I might take him up on that once my kids graduate.”
My heart swelled at her words. “How sweet.”
“He’s a very considerate young man.”
“Sometimes I catch a glimpse of his compassion. Like the day I made a mess out of our lunch. He never criticized me.” Other times, he’s just plain rude.
“He has a tender spirit, and even though he tries to use his rough demeanor to pretend he doesn’t care, he cares a great deal.”
“There are times when it seems like we have a small connection, but for the most part, he holds me at arm’s distance like he’s afraid to get too close.”
“Don’t take it personally. He keeps everyone at bay. With what he pays me, I should be at his beck and call every day, but he insists I only come to the home twice a week and store meals in the refrigerator. He prefers his privacy.”
“He’s a hard nut to crack.”
“You’ll just have to wait and see how things play out,” Florence said with a wink. “Show him grace. Don’t forget he’s been through a lot and it may take him longer to trust.” Her eyes twinkled. “I’ll give you a tip. Show vulnerability now and then, and he’ll grow more comfortable around you.”
“I suppose you’re right. We're all more at ease opening up to someone with flaws. No one wants to confide in Mr. or Ms. Perfect.”
“My guess is Sawyer likes you more than you realize,” she said, chuckling. “I tell my teenage daughter that some men are still little boys at heart, pulling a girl’s hair to get her attention.”
She thought Sawyer liked me? That was debatable. If he liked me as much as she implied, he would keep me on longer. My time as his employee had an expiration date, and it sometimes appeared like he looked forward to it.
Sawyer’s voice boomed from the top of the stairwell. “Who’s still a little boy at heart?” Masculinity rolled off him as he took a few steps down, eyeing us with curiosity, hair wet and tousled from the shower. His fresh blue t-shirt stretched across broad shoulders and looked way too good for something he’d just thrown on. He didn’t replace his running shoes with combat boots like he normally did, but instead, had on a pair of black Chucks. He was so handsome my heart ached.
The scars that had taken me by surprise during our interview were familiar now. They gave him character, made him more relatable.
Florence laughed and clucked her tongue. “Were you listening in on our conversation, young man?”
He jogged down the stairs and leaned against the stairway banister. “No, but I heard voices.” He glanced at Florence and me as if trying to figure out what we’d been saying. “I only caught the part about boys being young at heart.”
“Well,” Florence said. “I need to get to work. There’s a chicken that needs to be marinated.” She turned to me. “It was wonderful meeting you, Ivy. Remember what I said.” Winking, she stood and then marched towards the kitchen.
I appreciated she hadn’t divulged our conversation.
“What’s the smile for?” Sawyer asked, noticing my grin. “What were you talking about?”
“Just girl talk.” I slid off the couch and joined him in the foyer.
His eyes flared. “Asking for advice about the guy you went out with? I thought you weren’t going to date him again. Change your mind?” There was enough ice in his tone to turn a warm sunny day into a blizzard.
He crossed his arms over his chest, a muscle at his jaw tensing. Was it my imagination, or did he seem jealous?
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br /> Now was the time to be vulnerable, like Florence had suggested earlier. But could I stand the humiliation? No one wanted to be seen in a poor light, especially when it came to the opposite sex, and I was no exception. But if opening up to Sawyer helped him relax, then it would be worth it.
“The date with Tyler was a disaster, actually.”
“How so?”
“He expected to meet someone else.” I filled him in on the rest of the story.
Sawyer closed his eyes for a second. “Ivy, if I had known I wouldn’t have asked so many questions. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m over it. I figured it wouldn’t work out about the time Tyler asked if Tina was seeing someone.”
The muscles on his face hardened, and he clenched his fists as if ready to fight off any man daring to hurt me. Seeing his reaction knocked down my protective wall. My confession had riled him up, and it was . . . heartwarming.
“What kind of man asks about one woman while he’s out with another?” he growled.
Tears pricked at my eyelids and I shrugged.
“You can do a lot better, Ivy.”
Not able to look him in the eye, I glanced away, traitorous tears flowing down my cheeks. I hadn’t been into Tyler, but his rejection brought up old feelings of unworthiness.
I had never been good enough for Austin. And it wasn’t that I still held a candle for him—he no longer had a place in my heart—but the end of the relationship left me with serious insecurities.
Sawyer stepped closer, concern showing on his face. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“It’s fine.” I wiped my cheeks with my fingers.
He reached forward and swiped a tear with his thumb. “You forgot this one.”
The gesture was so playful and unexpected, it brought a smile to my face.
He gently ran his thumb, back and forth over my cheekbone. And then the playful look disappeared and his eyes grew darker than a thundercloud. He studied me for a long moment and then smoothed back a lock of hair that had fallen into my face.
“You’re beautiful. You know that, right?”
A lump formed in my throat, and I stared back at him, unable to answer.
He hesitated as if warring with himself. “Come here.” He held out his arms and drew me into a hug, folding me into his side. I leaned into him and pressed my face against his shoulder, inhaling the woodsy scent of his cologne. His arms tightened, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. The muscles of his lower back were hard like granite.
“It’s a good thing I wasn’t there,” he whispered into my ear, “because I would’ve knocked some sense into that guy.” His voice was low, husky.
Neither of us moved away. The tightness of his arms made me feel protected and cared about in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.
His breath was warm against my ear. “I don’t normally do hugs—it’s against my rules, you know. But I had to make an exception for you.”
I tilted my head up and met his gaze. “Why make an exception?”
“You needed a hug more than I needed to follow my rules.”
Florence had been right. Showing a little vulnerability bridged a gap between us, bringing out the protectiveness in Sawyer and revealing a side of him I really liked. We stared at one another for a moment, and I was overcome with how good it felt to be in his arms. Maybe too good. A giddy sensation twisted in my gut and I found myself wishing I could hug him like this all the time. Not as friends, but as more. Grudgingly, I pulled away.
“Is it worth it?” he asked. “This river view . . . is it worth having to go out with those guys?”
His gaze was so intent I had a hard time concentrating.
If I ever received any indication that Sawyer cared about me as more than a friend, I’d stop the dates in a second and give up my river view. But he’d never given me any reason to believe he felt that way. At times, he threw out mixed signals, and I didn’t really know what that was about. But considering I worked for him, I needed to be cautious and rely on what he actually said.
“Sammie promised to make sure the next guy would be better.”
“So, there will be a next guy then?”
I nodded. “We made a deal.”
His expression was hard, unreadable. “You can go home now. I’m going for a walk and it may be a few hours.”
“Do you want company?”
He shook his head. “No. I need some time alone.”
Watching him leave, I crossed my arms. How easy it would be to conclude he’d been jealous. But I wouldn’t let myself think that way. If I filtered everything through what I hoped to be true, I could easily deceive myself into believing I had a chance with Sawyer.
His words from a few nights ago echoed through my thoughts. Once this arrangement is over, there won’t be a reason to spend time together.
I was Sawyer Drake’s employee and nothing more. It would help if I got that through my stubborn head. He had a tender spirit as Florence pointed out and helping others made him feel better. If he cared at all, it was because he liked to collect sad cases, and that described me perfectly.
Except I didn’t want to be a part of his broken toy collection.
I wanted to grow, become stronger, learn to set aside my insecurities and past pain. Embrace the future.
And I wanted that for him, too.
My stomach churned when something else occurred to me. Something that made my body quake. If I didn’t harness these feelings, I’d be right back where I started when I fled California.
I jogged back upstairs to retrieve my purse, still sitting in the corner of the gym where I’d left it earlier. Next to it was a letter.
Dear Ivy,
When you left the other day, you dropped a letter. Maybe it was presumptuous, but I read it, figuring you’d forgotten to give it to me.
You want to be my friend and nothing will deter you. Fine, we can be friends, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.
I’m glad you told me about the locket. And no, I don’t think you’re pathetic, just human. You desire to love and be loved like everyone else. Austin wasn’t the right man for you. He didn’t deserve you. When the right man comes along, you’ll forget all about him.
Sawyer
So, I had dropped the letter at his house after all. He’d clearly read it. And there it was in black and white—he was willing to embrace a friendship with me.
But what should have been a small victory fell flat.
Because I was already one step ahead.
Now, I wanted more than friendship.
I wanted far more than that.
When I got home, I marched to the dresser in my room and opened the top drawer. I pulled out the locket Austin had given me and walked straight to the kitchen and threw it in the trash. No hesitation. No regrets. Austin no longer had a hold on me.
Chapter 20
Ivy
A few weeks passed and the harder I tried to control my feelings for Sawyer, the more difficult it became. It was like telling someone not to stare at the pink elephant in the room. It was impossible.
We’d spent our days playing games and watching movies together, and a comfortable closeness developed between us, almost as if we’d known each other for a long time.
When I wasn’t working with Sawyer, I daydreamed about him like a starry-eyed high school girl. But there was one problem with that. When feelings soared high, they often came crashing down.
Two days ago, he’d been on his computer upstairs, and I’d noticed him looking at the Facebook profile of his ex-girlfriend, Madison. I’d been sick to my stomach the rest of the day. My reaction to something so minor freaked me out. What was wrong with me? I knew Sawyer was just a friend. So why did it seem like I was experiencing heartbreak with Austin all over again?
Sammie told me it was because I needed a life outside of my job. I’d become too consumed with one person. She suggested I get out and interact with more people. Her advice had been sound. And I tried.
Truly, I did. I busied myself with activities at school and church, only it hadn’t helped.
Everything seemed bleak and one-note without the person I wanted to spend time with most.
It had been five weeks since I’d started working for him. It should have taken longer to fall for someone, right? Yet, I couldn’t deny what I felt.
My admiration grew day by day, along with my misery. He was out of bounds and even though I knew that, I couldn't stop hoping things would change.
It all came to a standstill that afternoon.
In the sunroom, I set down my ping pong paddle and tried to control my breathing while Sawyer guzzled a bottle of water after our game.
“My ex-girlfriend, Madison, messaged me on Facebook the other day,” he said, bouncing the ball on the tabletop.
I felt the blood drain from my face. “Really? That’s . . . nice.”
“She moved to Mobile and wants to catch up. Asked if she could stop by the house. She said she wants to check out the university as well.”
The bottom of my stomach plummeted. I didn’t like feeling jealous. Even so, I had to put my own feelings aside and think of Sawyer. Connecting with someone from his past might help him heal. He had yet to take a step like that, and I wouldn’t be a decent friend if I didn’t encourage it.
I forced myself to smile and be supportive, to put his needs above my ridiculous jealousy. “You should do it.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her. A lot has changed.”
“It would be good for you to connect with people from your past.”
His eyebrows drew together, and he seemed to consider my words. “You think so?”
“I do.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
I fixed a blank expression on my face. “Why would I?”
He shrugged and appeared uncertain. “I thought maybe . . . It’s not important.”
The Unwanted Assistant Page 15
