by JoAnn Durgin
“Congratulations, but again, let’s not get off topic. Ava is gorgeous and so…refined.”
Refined. That was a new adjective he hadn’t yet thought of to describe the lovely ballerina, but it suited her well. Sawyer stretched out on the bed in his red flannel IU sleep pants and white T-shirt and propped one elbow behind his head. “You’re not suggesting I’m not good enough for her, are you?”
“I’ll decide that later. Right now I need more details. Speak to me.”
“Are you eating a snack? I hear loud munching in my ear.” Grabbing a ten-pound hand weight from the floor, Sawyer began his repetitions.
“Yes,” she said around a mouthful. “Plain cereal. The twins love it, bless their naïve hearts. The stuff is way too bland, but it’s healthy, so it’s better for my waistline than chocolate. Sophia tells me you flirted like a maniac with Ava. Then you smiled like you had a banana stuck in your mouth the entire time you were here at the house. I don’t think you heard half of what I said.”
“Which one of those things bothers you more? That I flirted like a maniac or—”
“I’m thrilled that you’re flirting again. When are you going out with her?”
“As a matter of fact—and I can’t believe I’m telling you this—I just got off the phone with her a half hour ago. Sorry, but you’re not invited along. I don’t need a chaperone.”
“Give it up, little brother.”
“We’re going to dinner at P.F. Chang’s downtown on Saturday night. She lives not far from there.”
“Sounds good, but promise me you’re not picking her up in the pedicab.”
Shifting the hand weight to the other side, Sawyer frowned. “No, but I don’t think she’d mind if I did. If I’m not mistaken, Ava finds a certain charm in my chosen profession.” He briefly explained how he’d met the ballet instructor and pedaled her home.
“Sounds like you got to know her pretty well. Why didn’t you ask her out then?”
He could hear swallowing noises and figured his sister must be gulping down her milk. Since they were kids, she usually ended the evening with a twelve ounce glass of milk.
“That wouldn’t be seemly since I was working and she was my customer. That’s also why I didn’t say anything to you when you gave me your little pep talk about finding a woman. For the record, Ava is very observant. I believe that’s the word you mentioned. I figured if God wanted us to meet again, He’d make it happen. Guess what? He did.” That came across as more smug than he’d intended, but he meant every word.
Allie was uncharacteristically silent. “Your faith inspires me,” she said after a few seconds. “I wasn’t sure how you’d react to losing Darcy. I know I tease you, honey, but I figured once you finally found another woman to date, you wouldn’t waste any time.”
Sawyer stopped his repetitions and dropped the hand weight on the bed. “We’ve discussed the whole Darcy thing before. You know we weren’t meant to go the distance as a couple. Look, Allie. I figure God’s giving me a blessing with the opportunity to spend some quality time getting to know a beautiful, intelligent, and fascinating woman. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that God’s got His reasons. I fully intend to explore those reasons.”
“Then more power to you and have fun. I actually had an ulterior motive in calling. I wanted to pass on something pretty exciting about the Valentine’s Day charity auction.”
With a small groan, Sawyer rubbed one hand over his forehead. “Must we?” The events of the day were quickly catching up with him, and all he wanted was to get some sleep. “I made the duty call to your friend Sasha. The deal is signed, sealed, and delivered. I’ll be there next Saturday night in my tuxedo, ready to smile, schmooze and—”
“You’re at the top of the list, Sawyer.”
He propped himself up on his elbows. “Should I ask? What list?”
“The early bidding list. They’re calling you Indy’s Hottest Bachelor.”
“Oh, man. That is so bogus. That would be Andrew Luck or any one of the Colts players, not me. Somehow I doubt they listed me as a pedicab operator. That pales in comparison to a pro football player.”
“Not every woman wants a pro football player. I checked the program and they listed you as an ‘entrepreneurial private business owner.’ Sounds impressive to me and it gives details about Mancini’s Pedicabs. This event will also be a nice bit of advertising for you. Matt’s using the usual blurb since he updated it last month for the brochure. And don’t sell yourself short, Sawyer. Women love those brooding Italian looks of yours. They find it sexy or something, especially your eyes. They’re calling them soulful.”
That made him laugh. “It’s called being tired.”
“The event photographer captured your innate charm. Shines right through the camera lens. A tip? You might want to get a haircut. Just an inch to even it all out and shape it up a bit. Facial stubble is okay. Women like that, too. Oh, and you might want to yank out those silver hairs.”
“Those silver hairs are a mark of distinction and well-earned. Leave my silver hairs alone and don’t come near me with tweezers. Don’t worry, Goose. Long hair or not, facial stubble and silver hairs or not, I’ll do my brotherly duty and make you proud. Promise.”
“Thanks again for taking the girls to their dancing lesson and then picking them up. I appreciate it.”
“My pleasure. All in God’s plan, as it turns out.”
“I’ve got to go, but I can’t wait to see what He’s planning next for you. Love you, Sawyer.”
“Right back at ya, Allie. Talk to you soon. ’Night.”
Chapter 8
~~♥~~
Hearing the buzzer, Ava hurried through the living room to the intercom on the wall. “Yes?”
“Mr. Mancini for Miss Carlisle.” She smiled at the sound of Sawyer’s deep voice. She pushed the button. “I’ll buzz you in and be right down if you don’t mind waiting in the front foyer. They change the paintings on a monthly basis. There’s one on the left wall now that’s really pretty.”
“I’ll check it out. Take your time.”
With a quick glance at her reflection in the full-length mirror, satisfied that her royal blue skirt, ivory silk blouse and black heels looked dignified yet fashionable, Ava grabbed her handbag and coat. Stopping at the door, she lifted her head and closed her eyes. “Lord, I really like this guy. I’d appreciate your help tonight so that I don’t talk about Cole too much or say anything that’ll drive him away. Sawyer’s hurting, too. Then again, you know all that, don’t you? Sorry for being redundant.”
She blew out a deep breath and resisted touching her hair. After spending the past forty minutes with a curling iron, she’d managed to achieve the perfect curls. “Okay, then. Here we go. You and me, Lord.”
In the elevator, Ava slapped her palm on her forehead. They’d changed the painting last week—a week later than usual—and the one she’d told him to see was…a nude. Not the city skyline that had been there the month before. Oh, no. The current piece was a painting of an intimately detailed woman. Completely naked. Not even a fig leaf in sight. That wasn’t even the worst aspect. The subject’s facial features faintly resembled her. At the thought, Ava’s cheeks burned with shame. She groaned and leaned against the back wall of the elevator.
What must the man think of me?
Ava lifted her gaze heavenward, immensely grateful she was the only occupant of the elevator. “Lord, I’m going to need your help here sooner than later. I’m sure we humans amuse you. Help Sawyer not to believe that I’m, um, suggesting anything.” An innocent mistake, but embarrassing didn’t even begin to cover this blunder.
Stepping off the elevator, Ava walked down the hallway with as much dignity as she could muster. And then she spied him. Oh wow. She almost wobbled in her heels. Sawyer looked incredibly handsome. Debonair and distinguished. He wore a long, black wool coat over dark dress slacks. As she’d suggested, he’d been studying the painting hanging in the front foyer but tu
rned at the sound of her heels on the entryway tile.
Please, Lord, don’t let him say anything.
Beneath the coat, he wore a medium blue dress shirt opened at the collar and a suit jacket. His hair was smooth on top with just a hint of the customary curls and looked slightly shorter on the ends. His face was smooth shaven and a hint of masculine cologne teased her senses as she walked closer. Dressed so stylishly and wearing cologne, this man surprised her. In the best of ways.
Sawyer’s smile reached his eyes. “You look beautiful.”
Ava inclined her head. “Likewise. I mean, you look very handsome tonight.”
After helping with her coat, he offered his arm. “Shall we?”
Thirty minutes later, they were seated at a table at P.F. Chang’s. Sawyer endeared himself to her when he again assisted her with her coat, draped it over a chair, and then asked her permission to sit in the chair next to hers. She didn’t mind a bit, and his proximity lent an air of privacy. His arm brushed hers on occasion and she caught the scent of his fabulous cologne. She’d always loved it when a man wore cologne.
They ordered the four course menu for two, and after her egg drop soup and his hot and sour soup were delivered to their table, Sawyer took her hand in his and asked the blessing. This man spoke so naturally to God, as if he was talking to his best friend but with a fitting reverence and respect.
“Want to try mine?” Sawyer dipped his spoon in the bowl of steaming soup.
“No, thanks, but I’ll try your Mongolian beef when it arrives. And you’re welcome to try my spicy chicken.”
“Deal. Sharing will be fun with you, Ava.”
A few minutes later, they were engrossed in a discussion of the pedicab business as their vegetable spring roll appetizers arrived. Ava listened as Sawyer told her he owned the company and had ten locations throughout Indianapolis, primarily based at hotels. They operated year-round except on Christmas, including in all weather conditions unless Sawyer decided to close or a state of emergency was called. She asked questions and he answered, impressing her with his business acumen and the marketing/advertising plan designed by his brother-in-law, Matt.
“Where else can I make a decent income, get great exercise, and meet people from all over the world?”
Ava ran her finger around the rim of her water glass. “Not to mention you’re contributing to a clean environment by not putting toxic fumes into the air.”
“You speak my language, Miss Ava.” Sawyer’s smile might prove dangerous for her heart, but at the moment, she didn’t care. “Since you’re obviously an independent businesswoman, time to tell me about your dance studio.”
Sawyer listened as she explained the story that still seemed unbelievable to her own ears. “About a week before he died, Cole—my fiancé—signed a codicil to his will. The codicil referenced property he’d purchased and then gave to me as a gift, free and clear. I had no idea until his mother called to tell me about it. She told me that Cole bought the property as a wedding gift for me.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I wanted to refuse, but then his mom told me Cole understood that operating my own dance studio was my dream. He wanted to see that dream fulfilled, and his family wanted to honor that gift. When I went to the address of the property, it wasn’t just real estate. There was a commercial building, and he specified in the codicil that it was to be used for my dance studio.”
Sawyer’s Adam’s apple moved up and down in his throat. “What a selfless gift.”
Ava lowered her gaze and cleared her throat. “Cole was one of the most practical men I’ve ever known. Once he made up his mind to do something, he did it as soon as humanly possible.”
“Cole left you a lasting legacy of his love.” A slight frown creased Sawyer’s brow and he took a long drink of his iced tea. “He sounds like an amazing man.”
Perhaps talking about Cole made Sawyer uncomfortable. She hadn’t meant to talk about Cole, so she needed to keep the conversation moving. When she asked him to tell her more about Allie’s family, he immediately brightened. Sawyer’s deep love and respect for his family warmed her. For years, she’d wished for a sister, especially, but her mother had never seemed to want more children.
“I keep telling Allie she’ll regret giving the twins names that start with the same letter. As usual, she didn’t listen to me. As her brother, I reserve the right to laugh when she gets confused and starts calling the dog Jason or Jacob. I’m just thankful Sophia’s name doesn’t start with a J.”
“And why do you call Allie ‘Goose?’?” Using her fork, Ava cut another bite of her spring roll.
“Did you ever play that Duck, Duck, Goose game when you were a kid?” When she nodded, he continued. “The basic idea is that the person who’s ‘it’ is the goose. Well, Allie came home from a birthday party when she was about seven, complaining that no one ever chose her as the goose. She threw herself on my mom and cried her eyes out. She felt like no one liked her because they hadn’t picked her. So”—he heaved a sigh and gave her another one of those adorably sheepish grins she was growing to like very much—“in all my five-year-old wisdom and to get her to stop wailing, I told Allie she’d always be my Goose. What can I say?” He lifted his shoulders. “The nickname stuck. For the pedicab, it somehow seemed to fit.”
“From what you told me the night we met, Allie became quite the party girl. I’m glad she got over thinking that no one liked her.”
Sawyer grinned. “You’re right. I can’t believe I never put that together before.”
“I love the story, and it’s obvious how close you are with Allie. Treasure that relationship.”
“I do, but you might need to remind me every now and then.” The implication that Sawyer wanted to see her again seemed clear enough, but she shouldn’t make assumptions about the future. Still, a thrill of pleasure ran through her.
Sawyer told her about his mother and how she’d fought breast cancer for eight long years before she’d succumbed to the disease. “My dad was a retired architect who’d always loved model trains and airplanes. Mom had to track him down when Allie was born. He was out in a field flying one of the airplanes. She was steamed when she had to get a couple of his Army buddies to go round him up, especially since Allie was born on Mom’s due date and Dad had promised to stay close to home.”
Ava laughed. “Let me guess. He wasn’t out in a field somewhere when you were born.”
“Your powers of deduction amaze me, Miss Carlisle. You are brilliant.” Sawyer toasted her with his iced tea glass.
He transferred a portion of his beef onto her plate and she gave him some of her chicken. Ava giggled when he made a comical expression of satisfaction after sampling his first bite of her dish. “Perfection.”
When Sawyer asked about her family, Ava told him about the special relationship she’d shared with her father, Tauarii. “His name means ‘my prince,’ a meaning Momma always loved. Polynesian names always have poetic significance. He was born in Tahiti and was the first one in his family to attend college in Hawaii. My mom’s from Edinburgh and her name is Isla, pronounced eye-la.”
“Pretty name. What does it mean?”
She smiled as their main courses arrived. “It sounds lyrical, doesn’t it? As far as I know, it’s the name of a Scottish island, but nothing more than that.”
“So, tell me how a Tahitian-born man named Tau”—Sawyer stumbled over the name and she helped him pronounce it—“met the lovely Isla from Scotland?”
“Momma joined a cousin who was vacationing in Hawaii one summer. She was nineteen and Poppy was twenty. One Sunday morning, she walked into the church where he attended. Poppy said he fell in love with her at first sight, and especially after he heard her beautiful singing voice.”
Ava scooted her chair closer to Sawyer’s and began to sing, being mindful to keep her voice low. She hesitated a few seconds later. “Do you know it?”
“‘When I Survey the Wondrous Cross?’”
“Exactly,”
she said. “Join me?” She resumed singing the hymn, grateful the restaurant was busy.
Sawyer joined her as she sang, “Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all.”
As she ended the song, Ava shook her head. “You must think I’m off my rocker to start singing at the dinner table like that.”
“Not at all. Notice I didn’t try to explain to those seated around us that you’ve recently been released from the mental ward. You must have inherited your singing voice from your mother. Isla,” he said slowly as though to reinforce the name in his mind.
“You have what I call a boy-next-door voice.”
He tilted his head to one side and took another long drink of his iced tea. “Explain, please. I’m hoping that’s not a backhanded compliment if not an outright insult.”
“No, no. Your voice is slightly off-key, but it’s totally charming. All good.”
Her compliment brought a smile to his handsome face that almost made her heart stop. She coached herself not to linger on his features, especially those beautiful, expressive eyes. He must have left behind a string of broken-hearted girls. The fact that he knew the hymn and didn’t hesitate to sing with her in the middle of a crowded place pleased her more than Sawyer could know.
Sitting beside him now, Ava knew she could so easily fall over the edge into a new relationship with Sawyer. That wouldn’t be wise no matter how wonderful a man he was. With Cole, they’d taken their time and approached the relationship slowly. That is, until Cole decided it was time to move the relationship forward.
Until Cole decided it was time. Why had she never understood that truth before? Not that he was controlling, but Cole always made the decisions for them. Everything from where they’d eat dinner to which party invitations they’d accept. She’d been young and inexperienced in matters of the heart, and he’d had one long-term serious relationship before meeting her. He hadn’t lived with the woman, but Cole had been intimate with her. Ava wished she’d never asked that question, but she’d needed to know. She appreciated that he answered her honestly, but the truth wounded her deeply and more than she’d ever confided to Cole. He was sophisticated, handsome, and from a well-respected Indianapolis family. Who was she, really? A semi-talented ballet dancer from a middle-class family who’d struggled to make ends meet, especially since the devastating fall that ended her professional dancing career.