“No, keep the rest for later, Shortcake. We’re about to eat dinner.” He turned like it took a great deal of effort to move away.
“Shortcake? If you’re going to use the nickname . . .”
He laughed. “I know, I know. I should at least buy you some. Although, today I have chocolate swirl cheesecake for dessert. Florence outdid herself. She wanted everything to be right for your birthday.”
“That sounds perfect. I can’t wait to thank her tomorrow.”
He picked up my plate and walked over to a side table holding stainless steel containers full of steaming food. He dished chicken piccata onto my plate as well as scalloped potatoes and green beans. After adding a garlic roll, he led me to the table to sit down.
“Sawyer, I'm floored. Everything is so beautiful, and the food smells delicious.”
“You deserve this, Ivy. I hope when you remember this day, it’ll make you smile.” A shadow fell across his features, and sadness flashed through his eyes so fast I thought I must have imagined it. “I care more than you’ll ever know.”
He reached for my hand over the table, and I gladly gave it to him. As he rubbed small circles along the inside of my wrist, his eyes studied my face with an unnerving intensity as if taking a mental snapshot. “I want to remember you like this forever. You’re so beautiful I don’t have words . . .”
No man had ever looked at me like that. Knowing I was beautiful to him was like a shot of serotonin, lifting me so high I didn’t think I’d ever come back to earth.
I’d fallen in love with Sawyer Drake, and everything about him: his simple faith in God, the scars that made him human, his gift for playing the piano, how he cared about those in need and helped without taking the credit. I even loved his surly attitude because he had a way of keeping me on my toes. My small crush had blossomed into something far more.
He’d won me over.
“No one’s ever accepted me the way you have,” he said. “That day you kissed my scars—I’ve never experienced anything like that before.”
Warmth spread up my neck to my face and I knew I must be blushing. “I do accept you, inside and out.”
“I have another present for you.”
My eyes widened. “What? You already gave me—”
“The truffle was just a little something. It’s your birthday. I have to spoil you.” He set a rectangular gold box tied with navy blue ribbon in front of me.
Excited energy pulsed through me as I undid the ribbon and pulled the top lid off. A crisp certificate was inside with the Drake Hotel’s gold seal of approval. The certificate stated: Voucher for an unlimited stay at the L'amour au First Sight Hotel à Paris. My mouth dropped open. “Paris! Sawyer, this is amazing—”
“You’ve been saying you and Sammie want to travel. Here’s your chance. Anytime you’re ready, let me know. I’ll have you flown out on my private jet.”
I jumped to my feet and rounded the table, throwing my arms around him. “Thank you. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to travel abroad.”
He wrapped his arms around me. “I’m glad I can make your dream come true.”
“Hey, you should come with us.”
He shook his head. “Traveling isn’t for me. But you’d better send a postcard when you go.”
I sucked in a breath. How would he feel when I asked him to come home with me during the holidays? I’d convince him. I had to.
We chatted happily for a long time after that. He shared fond memories of his childhood. I told him about a disastrous camping trip Mom and Dad took me on that was quite comical.
When we finished eating, I tried to hide the eagerness on my face, as well as the worry. I wanted him to say yes to my invitation to come to Los Angeles during the break. So much had happened since the first time I’d asked. Perhaps his answer would be different now. I could only hope the idea of flying to California wasn’t as big a deal to him as taking a trip to Paris. The churning in my gut wouldn’t settle down until I broached the topic.
I cleared my throat. “I was talking to my mom this morning, and she suggested I invite you to fly back with me during the holiday break. What to do you think?”
A flash of uncertainty and doubt flickered in his eyes. He shifted and glanced away. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes. I’d really like for you to meet my parents and see where I grew up. It would be fun hanging out together during the holidays. I’ll show you around L.A. There’s so much to do—”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” His face was a wall of impassivity, almost as if he’d considered this option before but had already determined it wasn’t plausible.
“Why?” I couldn’t contain the raw disappointment in my voice.
He reached forward and touched my forearm. “Ivy, we’ve talked about this before, and I told you how I felt about traveling. I don’t like being around a lot of people. I’m not ready for a step like that.”
“But you said you would try to make changes.”
He stood and turned off the heat lamps. I picked up my purse and the presents, realizing we were done for the night. He took my hand, and we headed in the direction of the house.
“I have made a few changes. Maybe they’re not big, but they’re something. You’ll be happy to know I told Madison I’d meet with her.”
My stomach plummeted to the ground. That wasn’t the kind of effort I’d envisioned.
“She called yesterday, and I felt bad for ignoring her for so long. I scheduled a time for her to come over next week.”
“Wow. That’s . . . great.”
My purse fell off my shoulder and onto the dirt. A few items fell out, and I hastily picked them up and shoved them back inside. What if talking to Madison stirred up old feelings for him? An inner voice told me I was being silly. After all, he’d put in an enormous amount of effort to make my birthday perfect, and I shouldn’t let my mind go there. Obviously, I meant something to him, even if he wasn’t ready to go home with me during the break.
“It was good catching up. She said she can’t wait to see me.”
I willed myself to smile naturally, remembering how he’d read my expression the last time we discussed this. “Good. I’m happy for you.” I stood back up and we continued walking.
When we reached my Ford Sedan, I rose on my tippy-toes and gave him a hug. “I can’t thank you enough for dinner. It was truly special, and I’ll never forget it.” I kept my head tilted up, hoping he’d lean down to kiss me. The drive for reassurance—that need to know he and I were on the same page—was so strong I felt sick to my stomach.
His eyes flickered with some emotion I couldn’t place. He hesitated and his lips moved like he wanted to say something. He shook his head as if clearing it. “Goodbye, Ivy.”
He reached down and gave me a peck on the cheek, and then without another word, he turned on his heel and headed back to the house. It was so abrupt I was left speechless. He’d said, goodbye, not goodnight. And that wasn’t the kiss I’d hoped for.
I was being foolish—obsessing way too much when I should just relax and enjoy what he’d done for me.
Once I got home, I rummaged through my purse, searching for my phone so I could hook it up to the charger before going to sleep. I couldn’t find it, so I dumped everything in my purse onto my bed, hoping I’d overlooked it. “Ugh!” I blew out a breath of frustration. Most likely I’d dropped it at Sawyer’s. I really hoped he found it because replacing the phone would be expensive.
Sammie and I didn’t have a landline, and I couldn’t use her phone since she was in California. I opened my laptop and sent him an email instead. I waited up for about an hour, but he didn’t reply.
As I slid into bed, I reviewed every detail of the dinner, playing the scene over and over in my head, remembering how he’d taken my hand, said I’d never looked more beautiful, and told me he cared. Then again, he’d refused to go home with me at Christmas, scheduled a time to see Madison, and left abruptly at the end.
What did it mean? It was like a puzzle that didn’t fit together.
That night, I dreamed Sawyer stood by the edge of the woods, calling out, only something or someone held onto me. I struggled and called out his name, but my legs wouldn’t move. And then he turned and disappeared into the woods, leaving me alone.
***
Monday morning, as I got ready to go to Sawyer’s house, I pulled a container of yogurt out of the refrigerator and peeled off the top. I scooped some out and took a bite, then put the spoon down. With all the twisting inside my stomach, I’d lost my appetite. I hadn’t seen Sawyer the previous day.
He’d emailed that he had a headache and wouldn’t be at church. I’d offered to come by, but he’d said he wasn’t up for a visit and planned on sleeping anyway. He told me he could either leave my phone on the mat outside the front door or I could pick it up the following day. I emailed back that I would pick it up on Monday since I didn’t want to bother him.
Sleep-deprived from tossing and turning the night before, all my fears and insecurities kept cropping up as I thought about the conversation we’d had about Madison Winter. Based on the photo I’d seen, I was nothing like her. At my interview two months ago with Sawyer, he’d admitted he’d always been the one to break up with a girlfriend.
Did he regret pushing her away?
When I arrived at Sawyer’s house an hour later, the morning air was crisp, and a shiver ran down my back as I crossed the horseshoe drive-way and moved towards the front door. I grabbed the handle to push it open, but it was locked. Weird. The door had never been locked before since the house was pretty isolated and the wrought iron gate kept everyone out. I tried it again, then knocked. Then knocked some more.
Nothing.
A minute passed, and I rang the doorbell again. It felt strange because I’d never had to do that before. There was no sound of movement anywhere, nothing that would lead me to believe anyone was inside. I glanced down at the ground and saw my cell on the welcome mat, right next to the door.
I picked it up and noticed two notifications. Flicking them off, I called Sawyer right away. His voicemail picked up and I left a message. I continued knocking, and a minute passed with no response from him. An uneasy feeling washed over me as I walked around the house and didn’t see any sign of life. The sunroom door was locked, and the curtains were drawn. He never left the house except on Sundays. He had to be home. I marched back to the front door, frustration mounting.
What if he was hurt? Or even worse, what if he’d hurt himself? He hadn’t been depressed since we’d confessed our feelings for each other, but what if our recent conversation about his family brought up trauma he hadn't been able to handle? He blamed himself. My brows scrunched together as I held down the panic rising in my chest. Breathe, Ivy. Just breathe.
It was then that I remembered I had a key. I’d never had to use it since the door had always been unlocked. Thankfully, I’d put the key on my keychain. I pulled it out of my purse and slid it into the keyhole, only it didn’t fit right. Had he changed the locks and forgotten to give me the new key?
My phone rang and when I checked the screen, it was Mr. Jeffries. Good, he’d know what to do. “Mr. Jeffries, I’m at Sawyer’s house, but the door is locked, and he’s not answering.”
“Ivy.”
My heart dropped at the sound of his voice. There was a note of finality in his tone.
“Is everything okay? Is Sawyer all right? He’s not answering and my key doesn’t work. It’s not like him to sleep in this late. What if he’s hurt?”
“He’s fine.”
“My phone was left on the front mat. I started to worry—”
“There’s something I need to tell you. Stay put, I’m on my way.”
A tiny kernel of fear took root as a horrible thought occurred to me. He’d said from the beginning he would let me go after two months passed. But I knew he wouldn’t do that. He’d said he was falling for me.
“I can’t wait that long. What’s going on?” My voice was frantic.
I heard him breathe in and out, hesitating. “I was supposed to be there, but I got delayed by an important meeting. This isn’t a discussion we should have over the phone.”
“Please, Mr. Jeffries,” I begged. “Tell me now. I can’t wait until you get here.”
He sighed. “I’m really sorry to have to tell you this, but Sawyer decided to replace you with someone else.”
The words blew through me like a hard sock to the gut. I could barely speak, so acute was the pain. “Wait . . . what?” My voice came out in a croak. “I don’t think I heard you right.”
“He feels it’s not working out between the two of you. He doesn’t want you to take it personally, but he’s decided someone else would be a better fit for the job.”
This couldn’t be happening. My throat went dry and I struggled to breathe evenly.
“There must be some mistake. We’ve been close. Why would he do this?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know.”
“But last night he threw me the most beautiful birthday dinner at the pond. There was no indication that something was wrong. He gave gifts . . . told me he cared.”
“I wish I had a better explanation, Ivy.”
This didn’t make sense. Especially since we’d grown to be more than friends. Granted, the relationship had never been defined. We’d never discussed being exclusive or referred to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend. But Sawyer had made it clear I was important to him, and he wanted more with me.
“Unfortunately, it’s not a mistake. I just got off the phone with him. I don’t understand what’s going on in his head right now.”
Trying to grasp what happened, I shifted from one foot to the other. Had he decided it would be better not to work together since we had feelings for each other? He should have talked to me if he’d felt that way. Why was he having Mr. Jeffries relay the news?
“I can’t believe this.”
“I hate this as much as you do. Trust me, I tried to talk Sawyer out of it, but he wouldn’t budge on the matter. We argued for a long time . . .”
Tears sprung to my eyes. “Why isn’t he telling me this himself?”
“He said it would be awkward. Said he needed me to inform you.”
So, the day had finally come.
He’d fired me.
Only he hadn’t had the courage to do it himself.
He’d locked me out and made Mr. Jeffries be the bearer of bad news. It felt surreal—like a bad dream.
Madison Winter’s face came to mind and comprehension washed over me. Of course. This was about her. He’d brought her up after dinner, and he hadn’t had the guts to tell me how he really felt. He wanted to rekindle a relationship with her, and if I continued to work for him I’d be in the way.
The pain in my chest threatened to overtake me. It filled my heart and sucked all the life from my body. My knees went slack, and I inhaled a ragged breath. Instead of losing a job, I’d lost something far more important.
All I wanted was to see Sawyer again—to confirm what we had wasn’t just in my imagination and he still cared. That firing me wasn’t about Madison Winter, but about him being ready for more independence. Maybe there was a chance we could still be together if we weren’t employer and employee any longer.
“Mr. Jeffries, I won't lie—I’m devastated by this news. I can find another job. That doesn’t matter. I just want to make sure Sawyer and I are okay. He never told me he was upset. Please ask him to open the door so we can talk.”
There was a beat of silence.
“His directions were very clear. He wants a clean break and said there’s nothing more to be said. He doesn’t want to talk. There's an envelope for you under the door mat with your final check.”
I lifted the mat and pulled out the white envelope. I stared at it for a long moment, but I couldn’t bring myself to open it.
Despite my attempts to be strong, tears slid down my face. My hear
t had become too involved. I’d crossed the line by allowing myself to fall for my boss. Like a fool, I’d believed he cared for me.
It was a bitter pill to swallow, now that he’d thrown me away without a word. Without even a face-to-face discussion. A moment passed with only the sound of my sniffling.
Mr. Jeffries was still on the other line. “Oh, no. You’re crying. I feel terrible about this, Ivy. I fought hard to keep you, but early on I told him he only had to try this out for two months.”
“Yeah . . . he told me.”
“I thought he’d had a change of heart. I don’t understand this at all. He cares about you. I know he does.”
“I doubt that. If he did why would he handle it like this? He’s been waiting to get rid of me since day one. He made me feel . . . never mind.”
“I’ll have another discussion with him. He may come around.”
“No, I don’t think he will. But thank you for your kindness, Mr. Jeffries. You’ve always been a solid force in Sawyer’s life, and I appreciate you going to bat for me. I hope he appreciates you.”
“Thank you, Ivy. Call me when you’re ready. I have a position at the office if you want it.”
Could I handle that? Knowing I’d still be working for Sawyer after what he’d done? “That’s okay. I’ll find something else.”
“Ivy, I hate this.”
“It’s not your fault.” I wiped away the tears that continued to stream down my face. “Thanks again for the job offer. I’d better go.” And then I hung up.
I walked back towards my car in a daze. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement from an upstairs window and whirled around, tilting my head up. Sawyer pulled back a curtain and stared down at me for a fleeting moment. He flinched. My lips formed a tight, thin line as reality hit. I’d served my purpose here. Now that the two months were up, he no longer needed a reason to keep me around.
His cold, hardened face sliced through my heart. How could he do this? I wanted to yell at him to come down, to stop being a jerk—to talk to me.
But then he dropped the curtain and was out of sight. As I stepped into my car, I took one final look at the house and the grounds, knowing this would be the last time I ever saw the place.
The Unwanted Assistant Page 21
