He made a beeline for the bushes and Sadie sat on the back step, enjoying the sunshine on her face. Once out of the paperwork fog, her mind went immediately back to Wyatt. She shook her head. There was nothing to be done for that. He had Jules to look after. He didn’t need her messing up his life. Because that was what she did—messed up every romantic relationship she ever had. She would push and test and push until the man finally had enough.
Jack came back and she ruffled her hands through his fur. “Why, Jack? Why do I do this?”
Jack didn’t answer, but she didn’t need him to. She knew why. Trust issues. Abandonment issues. Blah, blah, blah. She could list everything every counselor, shrink or social worker had ever said to her. The real question was not why, but how. How to stop doing these things.
Immediately, the letter hidden in her desk drawer came to mind. She covered her face with her hands. Lito’s voice echoed. Promise me. And she had. She’d promised him she would give her brother a chance. Give her blood family a chance. As usual, he was right. If she wanted a future with Wyatt, she was going to have to face her past.
Before she lost her nerve and talked herself out of it, she herded Jack back to the office and locked the door behind them. Her heart was pounding, and she felt slightly dizzy as she spread the letter out on the desktop. Now was the time. No one was in the office to disturb her. Now, before you chicken out!
He had a nice voice. Young and upbeat. Hers, on the other hand, was tremulous. “Is this Grant Rogers?”
“Yes, it is.”
“This is Sadie Martin.” A long moment spun out in silence. “I got your letter.”
“Oh! Uh...okay...hi.”
“Hi.”
Another silent moment played out.
“Well,” Grant said. “This is only slightly more awkward than I imagined.”
Sadie laughed. “Yeah. I didn’t really plan what to say after ‘I got your letter.’”
“And I never thought of what I’d say if you called.”
“Wh...why do you think I’m your sister?”
“Like I said in the letter, I don’t want anything from you. I just need to know. I’ve wondered about this most of my life.”
“Wondered about what?”
“You. Or the possibility of you. It started when my mother was pregnant with my youngest sister. I was ten. I remember going with Mom to a doctor’s appointment. I can’t remember it all, but a nurse was, like, confirming the history or something. And she said ‘so you’ve had three full-term babies.’ And my mom said yes and it confused me because there was only me and Emmie at the time. When I asked her about it, she said I didn’t hear right. But I knew I had.”
“She wasn’t talking about the baby your mother was pregnant with?”
“No. She told me a few months ago. She told me the truth. I was moving out. I graduated from Wofford in December. I got that job in Raleigh and I was home packing when I found stuff in the attic. The baby pictures. Sapphire Diamond written on the back. And an envelope with papers from the Department of Social Services. I showed them to her.”
“What did she say?” Sadie asked through numb lips.
“She told me she’d gotten pregnant when she was very young. And she’d given the baby up for adoption.”
Her head bobbed in a nod. “Yeah.”
Wow. Even now, her mother was lying. The story skimmed over the ugly details and compressed the timeline to make her appear noble but it was essentially the truth. But she remembered almost everything. She’d been too young to remember being taken away, but there had been an entire childhood of being dressed up and taken to the social services office where there was a small room with a little table and chairs. Books and games. There she would sit with her mother and listen to her say how as soon as she got a place to stay, as soon as she got a job, as soon as she got everything together, Sadie would come home to live with her. She’d have a pretty pink room and a bike and a kitten.
Every month. Until she was five. Then it was maybe every other month. By age six, it was her birthday and Christmas. By age seven, she’d stopped coming. By age eight, Sadie had known it was all a lie. When Sadie had turned eighteen, her social worker told her some things. Her mother had never been able to stay sober long enough to get her back. She had been turned away on visiting days for showing up reeling drunk or high. She finally signed the papers terminating her parental rights when Sadie was eight. She could then be adopted. Except no one wanted her. No kid over four had a chance of a real home. Later, Sadie learned that two months after the papers were signed, her mother had gotten married. Five months later, Grant was born.
She simultaneously hated him and envied him. He’d had it all. House, parents, school, sisters, Little League. Bet he had a stupid bike. If only she could stop trembling. If only she could calm her arms and legs. She felt untethered from reality. Floating over her body. A warm weight touched her thigh. Jack had put his head there. Tears stung at her eyes. Jack loved her. Her dog cared about her. Unlike her mother.
“Was she a good mother? Did you have a good childhood?”
“I guess. They both, mom and dad, had had problems with drugs and alcohol in the past. Hell, they met in rehab. Dad had one short relapse when I was a baby, but that’s it. They’ve been good parents.”
Her throat hurt. Ached. She rubbed at her burning eyes. It was too much. Baby at sixteen. Overcoming addiction. Making a new start in life. All very difficult things to do. Sadness washed over her, pressing down on her, forcing a little of the anger away. She drew in a slow, wavering breath.
“Yes, I’m your sister.”
He huffed out a sound of relief. “Okay. Whew. I was scared to death I’d made a mistake. Mom’s been talking about you since I found out. Wondering about you. I think she’d like to see you.”
“No. And I’m not mad at you, but I don’t want our mother to know you’ve found me or talked to me. I have no interest in having any type of relationship with her.”
“I understand. I was just throwing it out there. But we can talk?”
“Yeah, sure. I mean, it’s a lot for me right now, talking to you. I’d like to meet in person. But I’m not ready to even think about meeting her.”
“Why weren’t you adopted?”
Because she waited too long. She held on and told me lies and made promises she never kept until it was too late and I was too old and no one wanted me. She swallowed it down. Whatever her mother had done to her, she’d obviously tried to make up for it by being a good mother to him and his sisters. Hurting Grant wouldn’t ease her pain any.
“I don’t know.”
They made plans to talk again over the weekend and said goodbye. Sadie crossed her arms on the desktop and lowered her head to them. She was still shaking, but there was also a strange brew of relief and giddiness coursing through her. The door opened at the same time there was a sharp rap.
“Hey, Sadie,” Josh said. He paused. “You okay?”
She sat up. “I don’t know.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I think.” She took a deep breath as she stood and walked to him. “I talked to Grant.”
He stared at her. “Your half brother?”
“Yeah. He found me. Sent me a letter. I just talked to him.”
Josh’s eyes went cold and his entire body stiffened. “He found you?”
Sadie lifted a hand to her mouth. “Josh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think...” She reached out for him, but he took a half step back.
“He wrote you? When?”
She shook her head, “A week or so ago. I don’t remember.”
“And you didn’t tell me about it?”
Josh, whose decade-long search for his baby sister was still no further now than on day one, took another step back. She could see the pain in his
eyes as he turned and left the office. She followed.
“Josh!”
“Not now, Sadie.”
* * *
THERE WAS SOMETHING going on. Wyatt noticed the tension in the air the instant he and Noah walked through the back door at the end of the day. Josh sat at the conference room table. Doing nothing. Wyatt couldn’t read the expression on his face. Either he wanted to kill someone or someone had killed his dog.
“Dude,” Noah said. “We’re done. Nothing to report.”
“All right.” Josh went back to staring a hole in the tabletop.
Wyatt looked at Noah. Noah shrugged. “Hey,” Noah said to Wyatt. “I’m out of here. See you tomorrow.”
Wyatt bumped Noah’s offered fist. “What’s up?” he asked Josh.
“Nothing.”
Wyatt stared for a moment. Whatever. He was out of here in two days. He went to his truck and got the formal resignation letter he’d written up for Sadie. She hadn’t asked for it, but he was going to do this as if he’d really been an employee. He turned the envelope around his fingers. For what seemed the millionth time, he tried to find a solution to this mess. He was falling in love with her. He dared to think she might care for him also. Last night had about blown his mind. Her body. Her response. He grew firm at the memory. And that’s all it’s ever going to be, man—a memory. You made it even worse. If you hadn’t slept with her, you might have had a chance to come clean and explain. But you slept with her under false pretenses; no matter how real your feelings were, it’s unforgivable. He slapped the envelope against his palm. Get it over with. Walk away. Live with the regret.
“I thought you guys were done for the day,” Molly said as he went back in through the front door to avoid Josh.
Even she looked stressed out. Her fingers played at the pendant hanging from the chain around her neck. He realized Jack hadn’t come out to greet them as he did whenever someone came in. There was a tense, gloomy mood hanging over the entire office. He held up the envelope.
“I have something for Sadie.”
Molly frowned and her hand clenched at the pendant. “Ah. I can take that for you.”
So whatever was going on involved Sadie. He hoped it wasn’t about last night. She’d seemed fine when he left. But then, she hadn’t been anywhere in sight this morning. A knot grew in his stomach. “I need to give this to her in person. She’s expecting it.” Not quite the truth, but not quite a lie.
Molly appraised him before drawing in a long deep breath and letting it out in a rush. “Fine. Enter at your own risk.”
He wondered what she’d meant until his light tap on Sadie’s door was answered with an extremely surly “What?”
He cracked the door open and peeked in. “Got a minute?”
She threw the pen in her hand down and rubbed at her face. “Sorry. Come on in.”
“Are you okay?”
Slumped back in the chair, she looked exhausted. “Crazy day.”
He perched on the side of the desk. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her for a while. “Anything I can do?”
“No.”
He lifted his eyebrows.
“But thanks.”
“It must have been industrial-strength crazy.”
“I’m sorry. It was. What can I do for you?”
Tell me why you are completely ignoring the fact we had some of the world’s most amazing sex last night? He’d like to start there. She was either very good at compartmentalizing or whatever had happened today had made her amnesic.
“It’s not anything to do with last night, is it?”
Her eyes met his and there was a flare of heat before the walls went back up. “No, not at all.”
He set the envelope down on the desk. “Letter of resignation. To keep it formal.”
She seemed to sag even lower in the chair. One hand came up to touch the edge of the envelope. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry about the short notice.”
“It’s okay.”
He covered her hand with his. “Can we talk about last night?”
Her guarded expression should have warned him to shut up. But he had to say something. He practically ran out on her last night.
“I’m sorry I had to leave like I did. I wish we could have spent more time.”
She pulled her hand out from beneath his. “It’s fine. It was great. Thanks. But it was sex. Thanks for the nice-guy effort, but I’m fine. I don’t have any expectations. We both knew that last night.”
Words that would make almost any guy happy. Would even have made him happy on a number of occasions in his life. Now they stung. Because he cared about her. A lot. And unless he told her everything, there was nothing more he could say. She was upset. Something bad had happened. Now was not the time to tell her about his lies.
“I’m not playing at something here. I wanted you to know that I feel bad about leaving so abruptly.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t feel bad. Don’t worry about me. Don’t do anything. I’m not who you think I am. I’m a messed-up-in-the-head loser...”
She broke off and looked away. Rock-hard lines of anger made her body stiff, but her throat worked as if swallowing down tears.
“You aren’t a loser. What happened today?”
She jumped to her feet and crossed the room to open the door. “Thanks for the formal letter. Good luck with your new job.”
He followed and stopped at the door. Torn. He hated seeing her like this. Hated hearing the pain in her voice. Hated knowing that if she found out the truth, it would only add to her pain.
“Sadie.”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Just go.”
“Can’t we talk? Maybe I can help.”
“You can’t.”
“You don’t know that. You never let anyone try. Let me try, Sadie.”
Her jaw clenched and she shook her head. He could see tears forming in her eyes and reached for her hand. “Talk to me.”
She jerked her hand away. “Stop it. Go. Please.”
He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her until the walls she put up crumbled. But he didn’t have a clue what to say now. What to do. So he left. The door shut loudly behind him. Not quite a slam. When he reached the front door, Molly called his name. He stopped but didn’t turn around.
“The closer you get to her heart, the harder she’s going to push you away. If you want it, don’t quit now.”
“I don’t deserve her heart.”
* * *
HE SAT IN his truck wondering what had happened. He should feel better. She’d all but pushed him out the door. It solved his dilemma about how to move forward with a relationship. She didn’t want one. The end. Still, it left a hollow feeling in his gut. He pulled out his phone.
“Hey, Charlie. It’s Wyatt. Can I talk to Jules?” He smiled at the little-girl giggling he heard as Jules came to the phone. “How’re you doing there?”
“We’re bowling. Can we get a Wii?”
“Honey, I don’t know what a Wii is.”
“It’s something I need. For my education.”
“Uh-huh. Good try. I’ve got one errand to run. I’ll pick you up when I’m done. What do you want for dinner?”
“Spaghetti and meatballs.”
“Got it. See you in about an hour. Love you, kiddo.”
She didn’t say she loved him back. She hadn’t yet. Instead, he was given smacking kissy noises.
One last meeting with Marcus Canard, two more days keeping up appearances at the Crew, and it would be over. He pulled open the door and strode straight to Canard’s office, bypassing the receptionist. He was expected. Canard was on the phone. Wyatt sat and stared. When Canard hung up,
he put the file on desk. “I gave you more than the extra time I promised. There is nothing illegal going on at the Cleaning Crew.”
He stood to leave.
“Well, son, I sure appreciate that.”
He turned to see Marcus leafing through the report. His piggy little eyes met Wyatt’s. “Sit down. I have some questions.”
Wyatt remained standing. “I have no answers.”
“There’s nothing in here about operations, training, services.”
“I told you before I don’t do industrial espionage. You hired me to find evidence of illegal activity. I found none. The end.”
“I need something for the money I’ve spent on this.”
“Your money. Your problem.”
Walking out was so satisfying, he wished he’d done it a week earlier. As he drove home, he left a message with Henry Moody.
“It’s Wyatt Anderson. If the job offer still stands, I’d be open to hearing the details. Give me a call.”
He drove home feeling lighter and freer than he had in weeks. Until he thought of Sadie. No way to fix that. Let it go.
* * *
“S-L-E-E-P.”
“Very good.”
Wyatt stirred the spaghetti sauce and checked the spelling list. “Dream.”
“D-r-e-a-m.”
“Blanket.”
“B-l-a-n-k-e-t.”
“Perfect, Jules. You’re going to ace the test tomorrow. Now finish your math while I get the pasta going.”
He watched her dark head bend over the paper as she worked through the problems. Amazing how much his life had changed. Six months ago, he was a single man who had no idea what to do with a child. Engaged. Now his fiancée had jumped ship and he was playing single father. And loving it. He had a family. Teeny tiny as it was, he and Jules were family.
“Uncle Wyatt?”
“You done?”
“Yes. Will we go to the dinner at Ms. Sadie’s house again? It was fun.”
He sat down next to her and covered her hand with his. “No. I’m only going to be there for a few more days, then I’ll start a new job. The dinners are only for people who work there.”
Spying on the Boss Page 18