by Karen Booth
Sawyer pursed his lips and began to collect his things. “All the more reason for you to take me out to dinner.”
“Okay. I’m game.”
The brothers made their way downstairs and out onto the street. The chill in the air was unmistakable. Sawyer loved fall—crisp air and football season. Nothing was better than that. It brought to mind the day he and Kendall had spent at his apartment, the day he’d watched her sleep. Even though things had been complicated then, they were still simpler than they were now. It was all before the baby. All before the ugliest parts of him and his past had come to the surface.
“You okay?” Noah asked, hands shoved in his pockets as they marched up Eighth Avenue.
“Yeah. Just hungry. And preoccupied.”
They arrived at their destination—one of their favorite spots, an old Irish pub. They sat in their favorite booth and the waitress brought them waters and menus. “What are we drinking tonight?” she asked, with the perfect amount of attitude.
Sawyer loved the presumption. Drowning his sorrows in a beer was right on time. “Pint of Guinness.”
“Same for me.” Noah perused his menu for a few seconds before closing it. He sat back and draped his arms across the seat. “So are you going to tell me why you’re so especially miserable right now or do I have to drag it out of you?”
“We’re both under a lot of stress right now. Carrying out Kendall’s plan is a lot of work.” He didn’t go on. It was enough of a miracle that he’d said her name without his voice cracking.
“It’s brutal if you ask me, but I love it. Once the hotel is finally open, we can just move forward and start making our money back. No more treading water.”
“Right.” Except Sawyer couldn’t even see beyond the hotel opening. It was like his life narrowed to a dark point on December 5 and there was nothing else beyond that. Well, not exactly nothing, but Kendall had made it clear that until he got on board with the baby, 100 percent, anything between them was a nonstarter. She wasn’t about to put up with a halfhearted attempt at making things work between them. She wanted it all.
The waitress delivered their beers and took their orders. Sawyer couldn’t put any thought into making decisions right now, so he simply ordered the same club sandwich Noah did. Their food came out quickly and Sawyer had to admit that between the beer and some sustenance, he was starting to feel better. Or if not better, at least more human.
“Okay, now that you’ve got your blood sugar back up, do you want to tell me what’s really going on? Because the stress story only gets you so far. I might be stressed, but I don’t look like I’ve been living under a rock.”
Sawyer took another long drink of his beer, but it didn’t take away the pain. He didn’t know which way was up anymore. But he certainly knew which way was down. “It’s the Kendall thing, I guess.”
“Yeah. That was a bad way for it to end. That’s the cost of getting involved with a Locke, I suppose.”
“I guess.” Except Sawyer was starting to think it was all a lot of bull. Why was he subscribing to this idea? Simply because things hadn’t worked out before didn’t mean they would never work out. “No. You know what? That right there is the problem. I hate that thinking.”
Noah shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“No. I’m not living with that anymore. We might be Lockes, but we’re also half our mother. This isn’t what Mom would’ve wanted for us. She wouldn’t have wanted our family to be like this.”
Sadness crossed Noah’s face. “It’s easy for you to say that. I don’t remember her like you do.”
It was indeed true that Sawyer’d had more time with their mother. His memories of her were vivid and real, while he suspected those of Noah and his sister, Charlotte, weren’t as vibrant. None of this would be going on at all right now if she were still alive. She’d kept their father in check. She’d kept him grounded. Or at least it had seemed that way, from the vantage point of a little boy. What would she say right now if she knew about the hotel? Or for that matter, what would she say about Kendall and him? About the baby?
A vision popped into Sawyer’s head, one that made tears sting his eyes. He never cried, but sitting there in the dark of that bar with his brother, it might happen. His mom would’ve adored Kendall. His mom had been spirited and didn’t take any guff from anyone. And how would she have felt to know she was going to become a grandmother? She would’ve been full of glee. And maybe that’s where the sadness and trepidation was coming from. He couldn’t go to his own dad and tell him, “I’m going to be a father. You’re going to be a grandpa.” There would be no unconditional love or joy in that statement.
That was the real tragedy of the current state of being a member of the Locke family.
“Kendall is pregnant. The baby is mine.” Sawyer couldn’t keep it inside anymore. He needed someone close to him to know.
Noah’s eyes were as big as hubcaps. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. What kind of question is that?” Now Sawyer fully appreciated why that question had made Kendall so angry. It was insulting. How many jerky things could he have possibly said to her? Too many, apparently.
“I’m just asking. People have been known to lie about this sort of thing. Especially when one person has a vast personal fortune on the line.”
“Yes, I’m sure. I trust Kendall.” The realization quickly followed the words. He hadn’t even thought before he’d said them—they’d rolled off his tongue as naturally as could be.
“So what are you going to do?”
“I have no idea. I didn’t handle the news well when she told me.” Sawyer hated to do it, but he relayed every terrible thing he’d said to her. “I’m not proud of the way I acted.”
Noah downed the last of his beer and flagged the waitress, mouthing two more and pointing to their empty glasses. “I don’t think I would be proud either, and we both know that you are far smoother with the ladies than I am. I’m the one who gets myself into terrible situations.”
“So what do I do? I’m really not sure I’m cut out to be a dad. And that is a real dealbreaker for Kendall, as it should be. I told her I could try with her, but she said that wasn’t good enough.”
“Probably because it’s not.”
The waitress set down their two beers. “You still working on dinner?”
Sawyer pushed aside his half-eaten plate of food. Noah had demolished his. “I’m good. Thank you.”
“I don’t know why you say you aren’t going to be a good dad,” Noah said when the waitress left. “You’re practically a dad to me and you’re only three years older. I don’t know how I could’ve dealt with growing up in that house if you hadn’t been around to talk to.”
Sawyer almost couldn’t believe what his brother was saying. He’d never once thought of himself that way. If anything, he’d always worried that he leaned on Noah and Charlotte too much, complained too much to them about their dad. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Think about it. Who taught me to ride a bike? You did.”
“That’s only because the butler taught me to ride a bike and he was too old to be doing stuff like that in the first place.”
“Who talked to me about girls? Who bought me my first box of condoms? Who talked to me about college and about doing my own thing and not living in the shadow of our family name.”
Sawyer traced a groove in the surface of the aged wood table with his finger. “I did, I guess.”
“There’s no guessing. You did those things and I’m thankful to you for it. I’m thankful I have you as my partner. You are a rock, Sawyer. If anyone should be a dad, it should be you.”
The words echoed in his head like few anyone had ever said to him. If anyone should be a dad, it should be you. “How do I make things better with Kendall? How do I prove that I’m up for this challenge?
I’m not sure she’ll believe me.”
“First off, I’ve seen the way you look at her. I know you love her.”
How Noah saw these things in him that he didn’t see in himself were beyond him. Love? Really? “How do you know that?”
Noah rolled his eyes. “If you didn’t love her, you wouldn’t be so miserable without her. It’s not rocket science.” He took a swig of his beer. “I know you aren’t going to want to hear this, but you have to buy her an engagement ring. You’re going to have to ask her to marry you.”
Sawyer knew where this led, but it didn’t make the idea any easier to take. An engagement ring was a very emotional thing for him. Just the thought of walking into a jewelry store made him uneasy. He also wasn’t convinced a ring would be enough for Kendall. She would need more. A lot more.
“I gotta get out of here,” Sawyer said, fishing his wallet out of his pocket and slapping a credit card on the table. “I’ve had too much to drink.” He pulled out his phone and sent a text to his driver, asking him to pick him up outside the restaurant.
“Two beers and you’re under the table? I thought we were going to spend some time together tonight.”
He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. “That’s what happens when you don’t eat. It goes straight to your head. Plus, I need to get some sleep if I’m going to get through tomorrow. I have a meeting with Wes about media night.” God help me.
Sawyer and Noah wandered outside, climbing into Sawyer’s car. They dropped Noah at his place, only a few blocks away from Sawyer’s.
“You know what, Mike? Can you take me to Kendall’s?”
“Certainly, sir.”
Sawyer knew it wasn’t the right thing to do, but he wanted her so badly he could taste it. And it wasn’t the beer talking. It was his gut. Maybe it was time to start listening to his instincts. Maybe it was time to make an emotional decision for once in his life.
He pulled out his phone to call her, but she didn’t pick up. Hearing her voice only made the longing for her that much greater. “Hey, Kendall. It’s nice to hear your voice. I was just thinking about you. I wanted to see how you’re doing. And how you’re feeling. It’s so strange that I don’t know what’s going on with you.” His head was underwater from the beer, but those last few words out of his mouth were like coming to the surface and getting a gulp of fresh air, only to be pushed back under again. His brother telling him he loved Kendall didn’t make it true. It was this feeling he had right now. Like someone had hollowed out his chest.
They pulled up outside Kendall’s building. The lights were off. Hopefully, she was getting some rest. Hopefully, it was peaceful. She had to be feeling uncertain about the future. Or maybe she was prepared to tackle what came next all on her own. That would be the most like Kendall. “I wish you would talk to me. I wish you would pick up the phone. I just need to know that you’re okay.”
He dropped his phone on the seat. “We can head back to the apartment,” he said to his driver.
Phone calls were only going to get him so far with Kendall. Words were one thing and action was quite another. He needed to get to work if he was going to win Kendall back. He might have just gone through hell with the remodel of the Grand Legacy, he might be running on almost no sleep, but he needed to start another project. This one at home.
* * *
Kendall lay in her bed in the dark not sleeping. A voice mail from Sawyer waited on her phone like a ticking time bomb. She didn’t want to go there. But she had to. She still had this bizarre sense of loyalty to him, wrapped up inside a giant mess of a relationship...her career in ruins, a baby on the way, her future entirely uncertain.
It was best to just get it over with. If it made her cry or made her mad or just made her plain old upset, she wouldn’t have to endure the emotion for long. She was so tired right now, she would eventually fall asleep, especially after a few tears.
She pushed Play. In the inky blackness of her room, his voice blanketed her with profound longing and sadness, so heavy that it threatened to smother her. His words, the timbre of his voice, it all wore her down, syllable by syllable. I wish you would talk to me. I wish you would pick up the phone. And then there was the worst of it—I just need to know that you’re okay.
She turned onto her side and the tears came, rolling across her nose and onto the pillow. How had everything turned so upside down since the day she’d first put on the engagement ring? It was supposed to protect her. It was supposed to keep her on track. She not only didn’t feel safe, she was as far off course as she could’ve imagined. If she’d tried to anticipate the worst that could happen, she never would’ve come up with this.
In some ways, it would’ve been better if Jillian had just fired her. Then Sawyer could truly know the price she’d paid for their time together. Being in limbo left things far too ambiguous. It gave Sawyer an excuse and she didn’t want to give him a single one. Not even part of one. He was the golden boy, the wealthy guy who got everything he wanted.
Or was he? She flopped over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, which she could barely see through the darkness. The truth was that Sawyer wasn’t that rich jerk who got whatever he wanted, as much as she’d tried to put him in that pigeonhole. He’d suffered at the hands of his own father, all while trying to do the right thing and live up to his great-grandfather’s dreams. He’d been through hell with his ex-fiancée. Money might make life easier, but it didn’t give free passes on heartache.
She turned back and flipped on the bedside table light and climbed out of bed. She went to the closet in search of the thing she’d so innocently looked for that fateful morning—the box with the ring. She got it down off the shelf and sat on the edge of her bed. The ring was back in its safe place and Kendall didn’t have the strength to even look at it now. It was there and that was all she needed to know. What she really wanted were the pictures.
There weren’t many. Most had Kendall’s mother ducking out of the frame, putting up her hands to shield her face from the camera. When she was little, Kendall had thought her mom was playing a game or trying to make her laugh, especially when she’d say that she looked horrible. Her mom had always been gorgeous, even with no makeup and little sleep, after she’d been out late with one of her boyfriends. Her mom had a fragility that was always threatening to break through the surface. And it wasn’t because she was weak. It was because she was desperate to open her heart to someone she could trust. Was that Kendall? Had she learned these things from her mom?
One thing that came to bother Kendall more than anything was that her mom never was the one to end it. As bad as it got, she’d never send one of these guys packing. She waited them out, until eventually they’d stop calling her back and showing up. Before Kendall had figured it out, that part of the cycle had confounded her. How could anyone leave her mom? She was so sweet. So generous of spirit. But the truth was that her mom never saw it in herself. She only saw the reasons someone might leave. It’s hard to love someone who doesn’t love herself.
Was that Kendall’s problem? She was, after all, one half her mother—a suitably tragic and flawed person, however beautiful and kind she had been. The other half was her father—a man she never knew, the sort of guy who walks out on a woman with a baby, even when he’d had to have known he was sealing their fate when he did. Was that why she couldn’t forgive Sawyer for his doubts about fatherhood? Because she still couldn’t forgive her own dad, wherever he was, dead or alive, thirty years later?
Part of her wished she had expressed that to Sawyer more fully, helped him understand the reasons why she had high expectations of a man, but she didn’t want to force him into anything. She wanted him to want her and the baby. She wanted him to love her. Because she’d already fallen in love with him. Despite his smooth exterior, he was a caring and soulful man. He was a man of conviction, which was far more than she could
say about most people. He stood on his own two feet, often in direct opposition to his father, even when he had so much to lose by doing so. Yes, he’d lost his cool when he’d found out about the pregnancy, but he had a lot of complicated feelings wrapped up in the idea of fatherhood.
She put the photographs away and returned the box to its corner of the closet. Focusing on the way she wished things had turned out, for either her or her mother, wasn’t going to get her any closer to what she wanted—a future with some certainty. She’d call Sawyer back if she thought he was on board with the baby, but the reality was he’d only asked about her.
* * *
Nearly two weeks after Sawyer had left his last voice mail, Kendall was still having a terrible time getting him or his words out of her head. I wish you would talk to me. I wish you would pick up the phone. I just need to know that you’re okay. The ball was in her court. There were only so many pleading messages a man could leave and still hold on to his pride.
Kendall had been wrestling with it every day. Was there a way to resume the conversation with Sawyer and still keep her job? Or would that just invite more heartache? Things were bleak right now, toiling away on the Yum Yum Dog Food account and going home to an empty apartment each night, but at least they were predictably so.
Today, like every other day since she’d almost been fired, she was sitting at her desk, chewing on a pencil to keep from screaming. Her office door was open, and she could hear Wes and Jillian arguing about the Grand Legacy. Wes was pleading for his professional life, which wasn’t entirely upsetting. It was just that his future was tied to the success of the Grand Legacy right now and it had not been going well.
Tonight was the big media night—twenty carefully chosen writers, an exclusive tour of the Grand Legacy just four days before the reopening. By all reports, Sawyer and Noah had been working their fingers to the bone to get things ready. The problem was, Wes was in over his head. He was a whiz when it came to press releases and schmoozing at cocktail parties. But organizing an event? It was outside his frame of expertise, probably because he wasn’t used to taking other people’s needs into consideration.