by Karen Booth
“I mean that if you are forthcoming about everything she asks, it will make Margaret feel like she came away with something special. The rooms aren’t as important as the story. She wants to know that she has what no one else has.”
Sawyer wasn’t sure about this, at all, but he had to trust Kendall. He didn’t have any other choice.
* * *
Kendall’s phone rang. She caught a peek at the screen and her stomach sank. Wes. “I’m sorry, Sawyer. I have to take this.”
“Hey, Wes. Good morning.” Wes would make her life a living hell if she was confrontational, but being pleasant with him was painful. She ducked into the service hall outside the speakeasy.
“Why is Margaret Sharp’s assistant calling me and complaining that you’re leaving her in limbo? What in the hell is going on, Kendall?”
“I have no idea why they’re calling you. I spoke to her directly this morning. Everything is under control.” Except she had nothing under control, especially if Wes was going to get dragged into this.
“I thought you were at the Grand Legacy. Wasn’t the interview supposed to be this morning?”
“I am at the Grand Legacy.” She hesitated before she said another thing, still paranoid about James Locke’s threats, especially after the flowers. Had the vandalism been prompted by her refusal to help him? It had been two days since she got the roses and she never responded, nor had she mentioned it to Sawyer. “We had to move the interview back a few hours. There was a chemical spill. I had to know the building was safe before she came in.”
He grumbled. “This is a nightmare. I need to get Jillian up to speed. She needs to know that things are falling apart.”
Kendall didn’t grit her teeth often, but she was now. “Do not bother Jillian with this. The interview is going to happen, it’s going to be amazing and Sawyer will do an incredible job. That’s all that matters.”
“You know, I can’t help but notice how fond you are of Sawyer Locke.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve seen the way you look at him when he comes into the office.”
“What? Like he’s my most important client and I want to make sure he has my undivided attention? How else do you suggest I look at him?”
“Calm down. I was just making an observation.”
“Well, it’s an inaccurate one and I need to go.”
“Is that who sent you those flowers?”
Kendall’s stomach churned. “I don’t have time for this. I have an interview to set up for.”
“Make it happen, please. I’m tired of putting out your fires.”
Wes hung up on her, which only annoyed Kendall more. She really wished she could’ve hung up on him. But there was no time to think about that now. The chemical smell was making her sick to her stomach, although it seemed like everything was making her queasy these days. She went downstairs to the lobby outside the grand ballroom, and made a quick phone call to Margaret’s hotel, first asking them to arrange an elegant lunch for Margaret and her photographer. Then, somehow, she talked Margaret into another postponement of the interview.
Sawyer emerged from the stairwell. She noticed for the first time that he was wearing exactly what she’d asked him to wear for the interview—gray suit, white shirt, dark tie. He looked good enough to eat, but she also saw the weariness in his eyes. The poor guy had been through the ringer with the hotel. However much she loved to look at him, she hated seeing him like this.
“Can you let me in?” She nodded at the grand ballroom doors. “I need to get us all set up in there.”
“Yes. Of course.” He pulled out his master key and unlocked the room, walking in with her and flipping on the lights. “I’m so sorry about today. I know this has made a lot more work for you.”
“Part of the job, Sawyer. It’s not a big deal.” She had to mention what was weighing so heavily on her mind. “Plus, there’s a good chance this is because of me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your dad. It’s so obvious he’s behind this, and I think it’s because I refused to help him.”
Sawyer placed his hand on her shoulder, leaving behind a warm tingle, followed by frustration. “No. Do not blame yourself. My father put you in an impossible position and you said no to his face, which isn’t easy. Most people crumble in his presence.”
“He sent me flowers. At work. Two days ago. Saying he wanted me to consider his offer.”
Sawyer ran his hands through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I saw how upset you got the day he waited on my street. And they were just flowers. I threw them in the dumpster behind my office and tried to forget about them.”
He reined her in with his arms. “I’m so sorry you got pulled into this. I want you to know that I’ll never forget your loyalty to me. You’ve really gone above and beyond.”
Kendall stood there, in his arms, wanting this instant to be her reality—where Sawyer protected her, wanted her, and they could ignore her boss or his dad if they chose to. “I can’t help but be loyal to you.” It was true. She couldn’t imagine being disloyal to him. Not now.
He patted her on the back and separated himself from her. “Part of the job, right?”
That was a dagger to the heart. She’d been loyal to no one but herself when she’d insisted the other morning that they stay away from each other. That couldn’t have felt good to hear. It certainly hadn’t been fun to say. “Yes, Sawyer. It’s part of my job. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care.”
“I know.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. Today is a nightmare.”
“Hopefully it’ll get better. I’d better set up for Margaret,” she said.
Sawyer nodded, seeming preoccupied. “Yeah. I need to make some phone calls and see about replacing everything that was destroyed.” He walked out of the room, leaving her all alone in the grand and elegant space.
She set up a table for the interview, making sure there was water and herbal tea, at Margaret’s request. Kendall’s stomach grumbled, and she fished a protein bar out of her purse, scarfing it down. Her mind wouldn’t stop whirring, fixated on work as she fielded calls about interviews with Sawyer and answered emails on her phone.
Two hours later, her phone buzzed with a text announcing Margaret’s arrival. Kendall rushed down the hall into the main lobby, where Margaret and her photographer were waiting. Margaret’s glossy white-blond hair was cut in a chin-length bob. She wore black from head to toe. Kendall had only met Margaret once, but it did feel as though a queen had arrived—with more than four decades of top-level experience, she was as close to media royalty as you could get. She wrote for only the biggest publications, and they were all honored to have her contributions. Margaret had a real knack for digging deeply personal things out of people. It would be interesting to see what she could pull out of Sawyer.
“Ms. Sharp.” Kendall held out her hand.
“Ms. Ross. I certainly hope we’ll have no more delays today. I have a red-eye to catch this evening.”
“Of course. We’ll get started right away.”
Kendall quickly got them situated in the grand ballroom after Sawyer gave a brief tour. Margaret pulled out a thick notebook and pen along with a digital recorder. The photographer was setting up lighting on the other side of the room. When the interview started, Kendall hung back, not wanting to intrude. This was Sawyer’s moment to shine.
Thirty or so minutes in, it was going well. Margaret had started out asking about the history of the hotel and what it meant to Sawyer. It brought a smile to Kendall’s face to hear the stories, especially those from his childhood.
“My brother and sister and I have always loved the hotel. When we were little, we rode the elevators, we played hide-and-seek in the halls. We were always trying to catch the
hotel cat.”
“Ah, yes. Mr. Wiggins. A fluffy Persian, right?” Margaret was known for meticulous research.
Sawyer smiled. “Yes. Precisely. Of course, Mr. Wiggins is long gone, but my brother and I love seeing everything else about the hotel come back to life. It’s nostalgic and special to us both. Charlotte has been overseas during the final phase of renovations, but I’m hoping she’ll be back for the grand reopening.”
“But the hotel means the most to you. You’re steering this ship.”
Sawyer sat back in his chair, seeming prideful, which he had every reason to be. “Yes. It definitely means the most to me.”
“Tell me why your great-grandfather willed the hotel to you and not your father.”
“I honestly don’t know when he made the decision, but I think it was during what ended up being my final visit to the hotel with him. He was very frail, but he wanted to meet me at the hotel restaurant for lunch one Saturday. I was sixteen. He and I had always had a great relationship. He knew how much I loved the hotel. It was declining at that point, which made him sad. He was well aware that my dad wanted it torn down, or at least gutted. I told him that it could be great again if we just showed it some love.”
“And then what happened?”
Sawyer shrugged. “We started talking about the Mets and finished our lunch. He passed away a little less than a year later and that’s when I found out he’d left the hotel to me.”
Margaret flipped a page of her steno pad, scrawling down notes. “I get the sense that although you and your father have a contentious relationship, that started before the Grand Legacy became yours. Your mother passed away when you were a boy.”
Kendall held her breath, sensing that this might be the moment when Margaret got especially personal.
“Yes. I was eleven.”
“That must’ve been hard, especially since your father was remarried quickly, wasn’t he?”
Sawyer was trying to play it cool, but Kendall had learned to read his body language by now. He rubbed the back of his neck, which was never a good sign. It meant he was stressed. “It was quick. Yes.”
Margaret flipped back through her notes. “Only five months after your mother passed away.”
“I guess that sounds about right. Give or take.”
“And your stepmother moved into the Locke family estate with her own four children. That must’ve been a big adjustment. Her oldest son, Todd, is a year older than you, isn’t he? So you were no longer the oldest.”
“It was hard. I won’t deny that.”
Sawyer’s answers were becoming shorter and shorter, and the tone in his voice edged toward defensive. Less telling. Kendall needed to intervene, to protect Sawyer and the interview. “Margaret, is it okay if we take a quick break? I’d like a minute with Mr. Locke, if that’s okay.”
Margaret turned around, looking square at Kendall. “Five minutes, Ms. Ross. I was just hitting my stride.”
“Five minutes. Tops.” She rushed over to Sawyer while Margaret got up from her seat. He was downing the remainder of a bottle of water while she crouched down in front of him. “Everything okay? You seem tense.”
“She’s getting into some unpleasant topics. I don’t like feeling like anyone is digging into my personal past.”
“Of course she’s digging. She wants to find everything she couldn’t unearth in her research. She’s connecting dots.”
“Like I said, not a fan.”
She set her hand on his leg and looked up at him. “Okay. I get it. I can’t force you to talk about something you don’t want to discuss, but let me just tell you one thing. It’s okay to show people a chink in the armor. It’s okay to share the painful stuff. I promise it will help the hotel if people know more about you. If you’re more real.”
He exhaled through his nose, looking into her eyes. “Okay.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I do.”
She patted his leg. “Okay, then. Talk to her. Answer her questions.”
Margaret took her seat again. “Let’s fast-forward a little bit. You went into the navy after college. You were injured and discharged.”
Sawyer told the story he’d told Kendall the night at his apartment. Kendall couldn’t stop picturing the scar on his shoulder. There was something so beautiful about it, a tiny glimpse of how human he really was.
“And what happened when you came back home? Was that a difficult readjustment?”
“It wasn’t easy to step back into civilian life, but mostly because I had it in my head that I would be serving for a while. Things changed quickly. And they were not the same when I got back.”
“Can you elaborate on that?”
Sawyer cast his eyes over at Kendall. From twenty feet away, she could see how wounded he was. It made her want to hold on to him and tell him everything would be okay. She’d sensed there was a lot bubbling beneath the surface with him, and some of that had come out the other night, but it seemed clear right now that there was more. She couldn’t breathe, waiting to hear what he was going to say.
Margaret rephrased her question. “Tell me what changed in your life while you were deployed overseas.”
Sawyer drew in a deep breath through his nose. “I got engaged the night before I shipped out. She was a girl I’d met in college. Stephanie.”
“You were in love?”
“I thought we were. I mean, I never saw myself getting married. Ever. My dad has been married so many times and it never sat right with me. I was determined I wasn’t going to be like him in that respect.”
“And why is that?”
“Because it felt like he never grieved the loss of my mother. He just moved on like it was nothing. Like she was nothing. Obviously my siblings and I don’t feel like she didn’t matter. She mattered a great deal to us.”
Kendall’s heart ached at Sawyer’s admission. No wonder he’d been so wistful, and untalkative, when she’d pointed out the photograph on his bureau.
“Tell me what happened with your engagement,” Margaret said.
“I’d asked my brother, Noah, to look after Stephanie while I was overseas. She lived in the city, not far from Noah. I guess it was just me being protective.” He shifted in his seat. “Anyway, my dad invited them out to dinner at the family estate one weekend. I thought it was a great idea. Despite my relationship with my father, I wanted Stephanie folded into our family if possible. Unfortunately, my dad had also invited my stepbrother, Todd, that night.”
Kendall was filled with a deep sense of dread. She already knew it hadn’t worked out with Stephanie.
“The older stepbrother from your father’s second marriage. What happened?”
Sawyer shrugged. “According to Noah, Todd went after her.”
“Went after her?”
“Romantically. Noah said he’d never seen anything like it. He and Todd got into a big argument that night. Noah always has my back. Always. He took Stephanie home and then didn’t hear anything about it, so he figured that he’d gotten through to Todd. That he’d convinced him that it was not okay for him to do that.”
“Then what?”
“Noah ran into her three months later and she was wearing a different engagement ring. She’d taken off the one I’d given her and had gotten engaged to Todd instead.”
Kendall’s hand flew to her mouth. Her heart was going to pound its way out of her chest. No wonder he’d been so incredibly upset about the fake engagement ring. No wonder he’d spouted off at her about how it represented love and commitment. An engagement ring meant a lot to Sawyer, even more than it meant to the average person.
“Why didn’t Stephanie tell you?” Margaret asked.
“I guess she didn’t want to hurt me, but she ended up hurting me anyway. She’d stopped writing as many letters
, and they’d had a very different tone to them, so I suspected something was happening, but I didn’t know for sure, and then I got hurt. I got home after my injury and I found out exactly how much my life had fallen apart.”
“Your own stepbrother.”
“Yes. It was a pretty deep betrayal, by two people I trusted. Todd and I became close when we were teenagers. At least I thought we were. And of course, nobody wants to get dumped for someone else.”
Kendall shook her head, aghast that anyone could do that, especially to a man as sweet and generous as Sawyer. And, of course, if his father had facilitated all of this, it was twice the betrayal.
“Those two actually ended up getting married,” Sawyer continued. “My dad invited them to Christmas that year, even though Todd’s mom wasn’t around anymore because she’d passed away. Even though he knew I was going to be there, too. I had to skip Christmas with my family because I couldn’t put myself through it.”
“Your dad invited them for Christmas?”
Sawyer nodded. “Yes. He has a real talent for going for the jugular.”
The hair on the back of Kendall’s neck stood up. He’d done it. He’d told Margaret Sharp the sort of story that she loved to print. And now Kendall had a good guess as to why Sawyer was so detached, never getting involved, never calling women after one night. He wasn’t being a playboy because he could. He was that way because he was protecting himself. He’d had his heart broken. That realization left her with a truth of her own—the only thing she could think about right now was kissing away his pain.
Ten
Sawyer hadn’t dared to dredge up those unhappy memories in a long time, but today he’d divulged painful things, many about his father. His dad had earned whatever Margaret Sharp was going to print. His father could hurt him, but Sawyer could hurt him right back.
Kendall, who had just bid Margaret and the photographer goodbye, was striding back into the grand ballroom, ever unflappable, and always—always—beautiful. She smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” She looked up at him with wide eyes, full of concern.