by L. K. Gandy
Branson
“CARTER, IT’S BRANSON. Hey man, do you think you can handle things at the bar for a few hours while I head to town for a bit? I’ve got some things I need to take care of. Alright, thanks man I’ll see you later.” After hanging up the phone I grab the deposit bag from my desk and the keys to my truck. A quick stop at the bank is the only thing keeping me from seeing Sawyer for a surprise lunch. Well, I guess it isn’t much of a surprise since I told her I would see her sometime this week, but with it being Wednesday already I’m sure she’s gotten so wrapped up in work that she won’t be expecting me today. At least that’s what I’m going for. I have not been able to get her off my mind after seeing her last weekend. Her flirtatious and coy smile when I would say something suggestive, or the way her dirty blonde hair flows over her shoulders, not to mention her remarkable hazel-green eyes – these things are all freshly ingrained in my mind. There’s something about her eyes that is so familiar to me, but I haven’t been able to place it yet. I hate not knowing things, and it’s really starting to bug the shit out of me.
Making my way to the parking lot on the backside of the building I can’t help but smile at the thought of what our lunch conversation will entail. There’s something I need to get off my chest, but I’m not sure how you go about telling someone you have a son and that his mom is no longer in the picture. How do single mothers do that, constantly putting themselves out there for rejection in the hopes of acceptance? It’s isn’t like I’ve put myself out there, in fact Sawyer will be the first woman I’ve actually been interested in since his mother. Not for lack of offers, but I love my son more than life itself. I’m not going to subject him to every woman I meet just so he can get attached to someone and have them ripped away from him if it doesn’t work out. When he does meet someone I’m interested in, I want it to be serious on both of our ends.
Getting into my truck and starting it, I smile again. I still can’t believe she has the same truck I do. Not to sound too much like a damn girl, but it has to be a sign of some kind. I’m just happy to know that she has excellent taste in things, and hopefully that continues with me. After pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road, I head over to the bank. I usually like to go inside, but opt for the drive-up window today instead.
“Mr. Phillips, how are you today?” Clara the oldest teller asks me through the microphone while the drawer emerges from the building.
“Clara, how many times have I told you that you can call me Branson? I’m doing well today, how about you?” As I’m talking, several of the young girls working behind the line seem to form a congregation around Clara, waving at me. I swear every time I come here they manage to flock together, giggling and flirting with me. I’ve never seen such a thing before in my life, it’s like they know my routine and are expecting me to come in. It does wonders for my ego, that’s for sure, but I’d hate to see what would actually happen if I asked any of them on a date. They would probably revert to primal instincts and gang up on the chosen one like a pack of wild animals. The thought makes me laugh a bit, and I wave back watching the women giggle and elbow each other in the sides.
“I know, I know. Old habits die hard I guess.” I wait for her to process the deposit quietly. I normally like to chat with her or the other girls, but I have a few things on my mind - the main one being how Sawyer is going to react when I pick her up for lunch. “There you are Mr. Phill….Branson,” Clara says with a smile. I lean out of the tall truck to grab the deposit bag from the drawer and wave goodbye.
“Have a great day Clara. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“You too, thank you!”
The parking lot for Baxley & Turner Law Firm is rather small, and I’m not so sure my massive truck will fit in there, so I opt for parking at the curb. Looking in the mirror I try to fix my hair the best I can. Fuck you, I don’t care what you say, ladies love a man with nice hair. Walking up to the glass door, I hold it open for a young woman walking out who is barely paying attention to her surroundings with her head down, talking on her cell phone. I get a small wave of her hand and she’s gone, no eye contact. The nerve of some people. The receptionist at the front desk is busy answering phones so I wait patiently. The lobby surrounding me is decorated very modern with sleek lines, dark tones, and gold accents. Above the receptionist’s desk the company sign is hanging with its gold lettering gleaming from the lights.
“Can I help you?” The receptionist acknowledges me without lifting her head from her desk as she sifts through mounds of paperwork.
“Hello, I’m here for Sawyer. Do you know if she going to be leaving for lunch any time soon?”
“Who?”
“Sawyer. I’m told she works here.” Shit, maybe she was just leading me on the other night if this woman doesn’t even know who she is.
“Last name, sir,” she responds with a snooty attitude while pushing her glasses up her nose to their original position. If she wasn’t acting like such a bitch she might be pretty, but a bad attitude can turn me off from any girl. But it’s not like she is my type anyway. I’m not sure any girl I’ve seen comes anywhere close to Sawyer now that I think about it.
“Oh…umm…”
“Last name?” I seem to have her attention now because she raises her head at me, along with her eyebrows expectantly as she looks at me over the thin black rims of her glasses. Shit, I never got her last name the other night. I lean forward and put my hand on the desk and scratch my head with the other trying to think. Just then I hear two women talking as the sound of their heels gets closer as they click on the reflective marble floor. I hear the enchantingly beautiful laugh emanate from the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen as Sawyer walks around the corner. As her head turns toward me and she notices the ridiculous smile on my face, one of her own spreads across hers, and I’m left speechless.
“Well it’s about damn time you showed up here. I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten all about me.” She has made her way over to me and now has her left hand sitting proudly on her hip. My eyes wander down to her slightly curved hips that fit snuggly into my new favorite skirt. Not that I had a favorite one before this. Dude, chill the fuck out, you sound like a cross-dresser. I blink rapidly, trying to get my focus back on the task at hand. Hand...hip…tight skirt…cross-dresser….NO! DAMN IT! This is NOT the place I had pictured my mind going when I came to see her. Get your shit together.
“I, uh…” Clearing my throat before going on, I continue, “Excuse me, I got caught up with work and training the past few days. We got in a new POS system, and I want everyone to be ready to go for the weekend so it’s not one big shit show.” She giggles slightly through her parted lips at the last part and also because she watched me blatantly check her out. God, those lips look soft. Okay, that’s enough. Man up and grow another pair since the first ones seem to have been lost in the closet with the cross-dressing skirts. “Did you have plans for lunch? I’m sorry I should have called. Not that it would have mattered because apparently you people only go by a last name basis around here, and I’ve failed to get yours on either occasion.” I don’t miss the receptionists’ snarky facial reaction to my statement, but I couldn’t really give a rat’s ass about her.
“No, I don’t actually, and I’m starving,” she says with a smile. “What did you have in mind?” If she only knew what I really had in mind.
“I know a great place in town, kind of different. I think you might fall in love.” She doesn’t miss my double-sided insinuation, which I like about her. She’s quick-witted.
“Well then, let’s go cowboy,” she says patting my arm as she walks past me to the exit. “I’m starving, and you don’t want to see me hangry.” I walk to the door and hold it open for her.
“Hangry?” Good Lord, what is that? It sounds like an unfortunate illness.
“Yep.” Her right eyebrow rises on her forehead. “Don’t tell me you never get hangry.” I’m guessing by the puzzled look on my face that she gets her ans
wer. “You know…where you get so hungry you become angry, and say hurtful things to someone you shouldn’t because you don’t mean them…you only said them because you were hungry. It’s a real problem and trust me, it’s not pretty. So you better feed me, and soon.” I take her finger pointing at me as her way of warning me.
“Sounds dangerous! Let’s get out of here then. I’d like to keep my manhood alive for at least another day.” I give her a wink, because I know she loves them. She hasn’t said it yet, but I can tell by the way her eyes light up when I do it that she does. This girl’s going to give me a run for my money. Walking her to my truck I grab the handle for her door. “After you ma’am. I don’t need to start your hangry process already.” I give her my hand to help her into the truck and turn my head when she climbs to her seat. That skirt is too tempting to peek under, and she sounds like she’s on a mission right now-best not to get side tracked. I also like to think that I’m somewhat of a gentleman. Most of the time.
“Doesn’t sound half bad, cowboy,” she says as I start the truck. “Although I think I might have you beat.” She’s giving me a smirk that makes me weak in the knees. Holy shit dude, guys don’t say that. Just shut up...shut your mouth…shut the hell up right now.
“We’ll see about that.” I pull into the street and give it a little gas just to show off. She knows that’s what I’m doing but she smiles and shakes her head at me anyway. I think I could get used to seeing that gorgeous smile more often. My mind starts to wander and I’m trying to imagine what she’s going to say about me having a son. This is our first time being alone together, and that’s quite an overload of information to process. I’ve thought about holding off and telling her later. But I don’t think that would be fair – not only to her, but to myself and my son as well. We’re parking in front of Harvest before I know it. I came across this place a few months ago, and it became one of my favorite spots almost immediately. “I’d ask if you were hungry, but I think I already know the answer to that question.” I help her out of the truck and lead her inside.
“Oh my gosh, this place smells AMAZING! I want everything on the menu, and I don’t even know what they have.” Sawyer’s eyes are practically bulging out of her head, and I’m pretty sure there is a little drool coming from her open mouth. Hell, she’s still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, drool and all.
“I’m a fan of the ribs. But I’m sure you don’t want to get that messy since you have to go back to work. They have plenty of sandwiches and the best chicken noodle soup I’ve ever tasted. Take your pick sweet thing.”
“One thing you should know about me Branson- I’m not afraid to get messy,” she says looking me in the eyes, a sensual smile playing on her lips. “Bring on the ribs, they sound fantastic!” She’s practically bouncing with excitement.
I order for the both of us, and we choose a table. Harvest is a small café on a side road downtown. It has an urban country vibe going with dark metalwork on the walls and butcher block counters. The seats alternate between long benches, old saddles attached to stools, tractor seats, and modified whiskey barrels. The artwork consists of livestock and butcher diagrams hanging on the brick walls and lanterns hanging above the long antique farm tables for lighting.
“So tell me about yourself Sawyer. We haven’t really had the chance to talk much. Every time we’ve seen each other we’ve been at a bar, and even though I own one of those bars, I’ll admit it’s not the best place to really get to know someone. What are some of your hobbies? What do you want out of life? You must have some type of aspirations, dreams…” I leave her hanging, and I’m excited to see what she has to say.
“Well, let’s see-where do I even start? I grew up right outside of Nashville and went to Vanderbilt for law, obviously. I’m addicted to cowgirl boots and have a closet full of them to prove it.” She’s smiling and I can tell she’s proud of that. “My father’s a lawyer, so I guess you could say I followed in his footsteps, although he’s what you would call a money hungry workaholic. It’s caused my parents relationship to take a drastic downward spiral the past few years.” Her hazel green eyes show sadness that I can’t quite comprehend at the moment, and all I want to do is get up from my seat and hug her. “But you asked about me, not my slightly dysfunctional family. I’m an only child, which really sucks. That’s probably why Charlee and I are so close; she’s the sister I never had. I honestly don’t think my parents could have handled having two of me, so that’s probably why they never had another child. I love to dance, but what girl doesn’t? Hmm, dreams. Let’s see-oh, I always wanted to be a singer, but it freaks me out to sing in front of other people, so that wouldn’t really work out too well for me.” She’s lost in her thoughts, and I can’t help but let my eyes peruse her body. Her long blonde hair is in waves cascading around her slim face, the ends caressing the top of her rounded breasts that are being displayed wonderfully for my very appreciative viewing pleasure from her form fitting black blouse.
“Are those real?”
“Excuse me?” She looks confused and upset. Yep, she’s pissed. I know that look. Let’s be honest, every guy knows that look. We get that look more often than not.
“Your diamond earrings, are they real? They’re beautiful on you. I noticed them when we sat down at the table, but I’m surprised I didn’t when we were at your office. They’re rather hard to miss.”
“Oh, these old things?” She bites on her bottom lip while scrunching her eyebrows and grabbing at the earring on her right ear. “Umm, yes. They were a gift from someone very special to me.”
“An old boyfriend, perhaps?” I can tell it’s a touchy subject, but I want to know more about her. When I’m around her, I’ve got this feeling that I’ve never had with another person. I crave the sound of her voice, to know her opinion, knowledge, humor. I want to know her story. I’m just hoping she goes along with my questioning and doesn’t shut me down.
“You could say that. We dated throughout college. Oh, happy day, our food!” Just like that she’s gone. Good grief that woman can move fast! Before I get the chance to get up from my seat she already has both plates in her hands and is making her way back to our table. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were hungry. Remind me never to enter into a food eating contest with you. I’d lose, and I’m a pretty sore loser. It’s not that cute. Also, you should let me get the food next time. You make me feel like my balls are on display on top of a mantle in my house. I like doing manly things, that’s what I am. A man, damnit!” She’s giggling, so I know I’ve done my job of getting her mind off of our earlier conversation. I make a mental note to myself to revisit it some other time.
“Sir, yes sir!” She gives me a mock salute before diving into her ribs. “OH MY GOSH! These are amazing! Seriously the best thing I’ve put in my mouth.”
“Best thing you’ve put in your mouth yet.” I give her a devilish grin so she understands my insinuation. I love having a dirty mind.
“What was that Branson?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You said something. I’m pretty sure it was a perverted something judging by the look on your face and the smart remark you answered my question with.” She still hasn’t stopped eating. Seriously, where does it all go? She’s almost done with a half slab of ribs, and I’ve yet to pick my fork up.
“Majority of what I say is perverted, or has some kind of hidden meaning. Unless I’m sick, which doesn’t happen often.”
“Well save it Nancy Boy. I’ve got a plate to clear and don’t have time to waste listening to your wiener loving crap.”
“This ‘hangry’ deal is no joke. Easy killer, I promise I won’t steal from your plate.”
“You’d be stupid to even attempt it. I assume since you’re single you fancy your right hand. It’d be a shame to lose it by my knife.” I get a devilish grin in return, but somehow hers seems endearing.
“You’d be right in assuming that, if I weren’t left-handed. Eat up, you’re being mean.�
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“You haven’t seen anything yet cowboy.”
Sawyer
GROWING UP MY MOTHER ALWAYS told me it was rude to talk with food in my mouth. Although it’d be rude to neglect such an amazing meal too, and as usual, food is the front runner so I wait until I’m done to say anything to him. “You haven’t told me anything about yourself. How’d you get away with that?” If I didn’t know better, my question seems to have made Branson slightly nervous. His usual cheery mood has shifted to a more serious, somber one, and it worries me. Maybe there are things about him that I should be concerned about.
“Stop that.”
“I’m sorry?” What the hell is he talking about? He asks me questions but I’m not allowed to do the same? He’s got another thing coming if he thinks that’s how the rest of this lunch date is going to continue.
“You’re worried I’ve got some serious problems I’m hiding that will change your opinion of me. Stop it.”
“Oh.” Damn. I’ve got to hand it to the man, he’s good.
“Listen Sawyer, there are things about me that will surprise you, but I’m hoping you’ll have an open mind.” Please tell me this isn’t the time he tells me that he’s into men. I’m not sure my ego can handle that after the dreams I’ve had about him. More than once. Actually, it’s pretty embarrassing the number of times he’s played a starring role in my dreams lately. “You know, I’d pay a pretty hefty amount of money to be able to hear the inner monologue going on in that pretty little head of yours.”
“You’d get your money’s worth, that’s for sure.” I can’t help but smile, this man knows exactly what to say to get me out of a serious funk. “Well, go on, you should know better than to keep a woman waiting.”
“You’re right, I do know better. I guess I’ll start from the beginning. I’m from a small town outside of Nashville, that I still live in. I would live in the city but there are a few things holding me back from making the move as of now. My family owns a small farm that I still help out with when I can. I have a brother. Brooks is a year younger, but he likes to think he can try and boss me around. I’ll tell you right now, that shit doesn’t fly with me. We get along really well other than that. We’re actually very similar. You’d like him, but I’m hoping not too much. I’d hate to hurt him for coming onto you. Scratch that, I’d probably enjoy it a little too much.” He chuckles at himself, and it’s infectious. “I love owning a bar. You get the opportunity to meet such a wide variety of people that are looking to escape from something – maybe the stress from work after a long week, a breakup, or just looking to have a good time for the night. Everyone has a story, and fortunately for me, alcohol is an amazing accomplice to help those stories to be told. It’s hilarious what people will tell a complete stranger.”