by T. L. Haddix
“Would you like to apply for one?” the girl behind the counter asked her. “I just need two forms of ID and proof of a current address.”
“Yeah, I don’t have that yet, not the Kentucky license or address, I mean. I only got back in Kentucky this weekend. Um, my grandmother is Sarah Campbell. She used to be the director here. Well, at the old library, not here here. If I call her, she can verify my information. Will that work?”
The girl bit her lip. “I don’t know. I’ll have to ask. I remember Mrs. Campbell from when I was a little girl, and she and Mr. Campbell are in here pretty often still with that yummy guy. I guess he’s your cousin?”
“Mm-hmmm. He’s single, too,” Sydney said, all too happy to throw Noah under the bus if that’s what it took to get her library card. After all, he and his brother Eli were as close to her as brothers, and what else was a little sister to do? “I could get you his phone number.”
The girl glanced over her shoulder, then back at Sydney. “You’ll be staying here in Kentucky?” she asked, her voice low.
Sydney nodded. “I just haven’t had a chance to get moved in yet.”
“But you know the address?”
“Yes.”
The girl blew out a breath, going to the end of the counter to pick up a form and set of cards. She brought it back to Sydney. “Fill it out with the Kentucky address, then. We’ll let it slide by this time, given who you are.”
Once she was done, Sydney handed the form back. The girl slid a sticky note across the counter.
“Um, the phone number?”
Sydney laid her book bag down and pulled her phone out, thumbing through her contacts to find Noah’s number. “He does custom woodworking—cabinets, staircases, the like. This is his business number. If you have anything around the house that needs done, you might set up an appointment with him, have him come out and do an estimate or something. It would give you a chance to talk to him.”
The girl pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. “I’m in an apartment over Mom’s garage, but she’s been talking about redoing her kitchen. That’d be perfect. Thank you so much,” she said with a shy smile as Sydney handed the number over. “We’re really not allowed to use the patrons records here to access their numbers for anything personal, and I never can seem to catch the call when he has a hold in.”
“No problem. Good luck. And thanks for the card.”
“It was a fair trade. See ya around.”
As she went to her car, Sydney thought about what Noah would say if she knew he’d just been set up. The girl seemed sweet enough. And she was honest enough not to abuse the library’s policy, so that was a point in her favor. That said, Sydney didn’t have much hope that Noah would return the girl’s interest. He was a bit of a recluse who simply preferred to be left alone. He’d moved into Rachel’s old house nearly ten years ago when he’d come home after spending a few years in Europe, and aside from short trips here and there for weddings and funerals, that’s where he stayed.
Since she had the keys to the old house, she decided to swing by there before heading back to Sawyer’s. Her parents had left some of the furniture in the house, and if she was going to be moving in, it made sense to make a list of what she needed beforehand.
Even though the house was vacant, it didn’t have that neglected air some houses got when they were empty. The grass was cut, the flowers were blooming, and the windows still wore curtains. That said, it felt lonely. It was a bit stuffy inside, but that would clear out with open windows and air-conditioning. They’d left the couch and tables in the living room, she saw, as well as the dining room table and chairs.
“There were a lot of good years in this house,” she said, stopping in the kitchen door and remembered watching her parents cook dinner, helping as she got older, chasing her brothers around the open archways that led from room to room, playing with Noah and Eli and their sister Molly when they’d come over… As nice as her parents’ new house was, Sydney was glad they’d held on to this one. She wasn’t ready to let it go just yet.
A glance at her watch told her she’d better hit the road. She had about twenty minutes before she had to meet Sawyer, but she didn’t want to risk getting stuck in traffic. Even though it only took about ten minutes to drive from one side of Hazard to the other, she’d rather be safe than sorry.
Sydney was nervous. There was no hiding it. She hadn’t even been able to think about food, even though she was getting a little hungry. It wasn’t simply that she’d be working with Sawyer in fairly close quarters but that she didn’t want to let him down. She didn’t want to disappoint him. She wanted to show him she was competent, professional, and yes, she wanted to make herself invaluable to him.
Before her marriage, she would have entertained the idea of making the man’s head spin so much with her overwhelmingly terrific skills that he’d fall to his knees in gratitude and head over heels in love with her.
Now? She knew better than to even entertain that idea. Just thinking about the goal her younger self would have set made her cringe with embarrassment.
“After that stunt you pulled when you were nineteen, it’s a miracle he let you in the door, Sydney Marie, much less agreed to hire you.”
But he had let her in the door, and Sydney was going to do her best not to make him regret it. It had taken a while and some tough knocks that she’d wondered if she’d survive, but she’d finally grown up. Now all she had to do was prove it.
Chapter Seven
Much as she’d hoped, Sydney convinced Sawyer to let her start that very afternoon. It wasn’t hard—all she had to do was walk in the door to find him faced with a ringing phone, a tearful client, and a screaming baby.
“I’m sorry, Sawyer,” the woman was saying, her voice raised over the baby’s cries. “He’s tired, and he’s teething. I’ll have to come back another day to talk.”
From the frustration and concern on Sawyer’s face, Sydney guessed that whatever they had planned to talk about, it didn’t need to wait until another day. Fond of the notion that if a person acts like they know what they’re doing people would believe they do, she jumped in with both feet.
“Hi. I’m Sydney, Sawyer’s assistant. Why don’t you let me hold him and try to calm him down?” she asked, tossing her purse on the desk and extending her hands out to the baby. She was as surprised as anyone when he only hesitated a moment, then lunged for her.
“O…okay,” the mother stammered. She handed Sydney the large diaper bag she carried. “His teething ring is in there. I can dig it out.”
The baby had calmed down some, still crying but not as loudly as before. Sydney didn’t want to disturb that growing peace. “I’ll find it. You two go on in and talk.”
“Thanks, Sydney. Mina, come with me. He’s in good hands and we’ll only be a room away.” Sawyer shot her a grateful look over the woman’s shoulder as he ushered her into his office.
“He doesn’t need to know that I know next to nothing about babies, now does he?” Sydney asked the little boy in a soft voice as she settled him in closer against her. “No, he doesn’t. As long as we can figure this out, we’re good.”
She continued to speak in a low, soft voice as she eased around the desk to sit. Once the baby was situated on her lap, sniffling wetly but calm, she pulled the bag across the desk.
“Let’s see what we have in here, shall we, big guy?” The bag was tattered here and there, and Sydney could see that it had been mended carefully more than once. The contents were neatly arranged, and finding the teething ring didn’t take long. As soon as she pulled it out, the baby reached for it, grabbing it and taking it from her with surprising strength.
“Wow, Popeye. What have they been feeding you, huh? You’ve got muskles.”
The baby leaned against her, drool dripping down his chin as he gnawed on th
e hard plastic ring. His eyes drooped closed as he started drifting off, and Sydney took advantage of his quietness to clean his face with a wipe.
“There you go,” she whispered, placing a soft kiss on his head. “All better now.”
Nearly twenty minutes had passed before the door to Sawyer’s office opened and he emerged with the baby’s mother. She was still pale but appeared to have calmed down. When she saw the baby asleep in Sydney’s arms, she smiled tensely.
“I’m so sorry he was a bother. And thank you so much for taking him.”
“He was a sweetheart,” Sydney assured her as she handed him over. “What’s his name?”
“Carter.”
Sydney chuckled. “My baby brother’s named Carter. It’s a good name.”
This time the woman’s answering smile was more natural. “Thanks. He’s named after my grandfather.”
“Mina, I’ll be in touch as soon as I know something,” Sawyer told her. “Try not to worry too much. We’ll figure this out.”
She nodded, and something very much like resolve flashed in her eyes. “I know that. It just gets overwhelming from time to time. Thank you both.”
Once the door closed behind her, Sydney sagged back in her chair. “Wow. That was terrifying.”
Sawyer’s eyebrows quirked up. “How so?”
“I’ve not held a baby in years. Probably since Aunt Pip’s kids were that size. We got lucky that he liked me. She seemed nice. What’s her story?”
His mouth tightened. “Her father just remarried, and Mina thinks the woman he married is trying to kill him. At the very least, she’s determined to gaslight him and Mina. She lives at home with her dad and stepmother—Mina’s a single mother, works a lot of hours. She can’t afford childcare and she’s terrified of leaving the baby with the woman.”
“Good Lord. The poor thing.” Sydney was horrified. “And she can’t go to the police? Not that you’re not kind of law enforcement, I mean…”
Sawyer leaned against the desk beside her chair and picked up the small glass paperweight from the corner of the blotter, turning it over and over in his hands. “There’s nothing the cops can do. She did go to them, and they told her she needed to see a shrink. She knew me from a couple of years back when she got into trouble and still had my card. Dug it up and called me. I kept the same cell phone number when I retired just for that reason.”
“So people you’d helped in the past would still have that lifeline?” she asked softly.
The question made him uncomfortable, she could tell, but he answered. “Yeah. Though I wouldn’t call it a lifeline necessarily.”
“Mm. Of course not. What kind of trouble did she get into?”
“Running with the wrong crowd, mixed up with the boy’s father. She’s a good kid, just got put on the wrong path.”
Sydney’s smile was a little sad. “I know the type. So how can I help?”
He blew out a breath. “Start by answering the phone. For right now, take a message with every call unless it’s Nan Carson. I’ll always take her calls, especially if they’re urgent, no matter what.”
“Girlfriend?” she teased lightly even as her heart sank.
“Grandmother. And I’ll bring you the mail, have you sort through that. I’ve been putting it off. If you can find something else that needs doing, have at it. Just don’t start organizing records or redoing my filing cabinets or anything like that. I’ll show you that system when I have time.” He headed into his office, coming back out a minute later with a small box from the post office that was chock-full of mail. “Here you go.”
Sydney knew her eyes were huge. “Holy hell, Sawyer. How long’s it been since you went through the mail?”
He had the grace to look embarrassed. “A couple of weeks? I glanced at it, got the important things out.”
She shook her head. “Mom and Zanny were right. You do need help.” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “Let me at it. You take care of Mina.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? Work for me, I mean?” he asked, concern clear on his face.
“It sounds interesting. Like I said, I’m somewhat familiar with the industry as I worked in a law firm for the last three years. I think it might be a good fit. Where are the message pads?”
He didn’t look convinced, but since frustration was practically rolling off the man in waves, Sydney figured he knew she was his best bet. “There should be some in the drawers of the desk. If not, grab some paper from the printer and use that. Holler if you need me.”
She saluted him with a cheeky grin. “Will do, Boss.”
Once he’d gone into his office, leaving the door open halfway, she started looking through the desk. She found everything she’d need to get started easily enough, and once she had the desk lined out, she blew out a long breath.
“Showtime, girly girl. Let’s rock and roll.”
As she answered the phone and sorted the mail, she was surprised to find that her nervousness at the idea of working for Sawyer had largely faded. The routine felt familiar, like coming home, and she realized then how much she’d missed her job with Charles, even though it had only ended a few weeks ago.
One of the lessons her marriage had taught her was that feeling needed, feeling necessary, was vital to her mental wellbeing. Looking around the room at the somewhat disorganized office, she knew she could make a difference in Sawyer’s business life. While that might not be the position her girlish self had dreamed about having years ago, it was certainly one that her adult self could appreciate.
Chapter Eight
Sawyer was late. As Sydney stood in the doorway of her mother’s photography studio Monday morning, staring at the street, she tapped her foot impatiently, trying to mask her concern. “Where is he?”
Emma’s laugh sounded from behind her. “Honey, he’s only ten minutes late. He’ll be here.”
“I expected better of the man,” Sydney responded dryly. “As by the book as he is, I really expected better. Think he’s okay?”
“He probably got caught up in something. Did you try his phone again?”
“Yep. No answer. Straight to voice mail.”
“That’s a little odd,” Zanny put in. “If he isn’t here soon, we may have to send out a search party.”
When Sydney shot her an irritated look over her shoulder, Zanny grinned.
“Who would we call? Wait, there he is!” Sydney couldn’t pretend she wasn’t relieved to see his black truck coming down the street. “He’d better have a good excuse. Else I’ll never let him live this down.” She grabbed the small box of personal belongings she’d brought from home, shaking her head the whole time.
“Have fun, sweetie,” Emma told her.
“You two do the same.” She opened the door and stepped onto the sidewalk as Sawyer came past. “Hey, you. Where’ve you been? The boss will dock your pay, you know.”
He grimaced. “I slept late, got called in to look at something for a former colleague, and completely forgot about you. I’m sorry. I need to get you a key and the security code,” he said as he took the box from her, tucking it under his arm as they headed up the stairs.
She gasped, holding her hand over her chest. “You forgot me? Oh, I’m heartbroken. Do you know that I had to hide out at Mom’s? I was slinking on the steps, and the scary lady with Texas hair was heading out to defend her territory.”
“Texas hair—you mean Myrtle?”
“Yep.”
His lips quivered, but he managed to get control of the laugh before it escaped. “That’s scarily accurate. You work here now, you know. You have as much right to be here as she does.”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that yet. And from what Mom and Zanny said, she thinks you’re her personal property. Did you see the nails that go with the
hair? Nearsighted or not, I’m rather fond of my eyes. Getting in a cat fight over my boss on Monday morning is the last thing on my agenda. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“I’m not Myrtle’s personal property,” he responded with a deep scowl. “What in the hell did your mother tell you that makes you say that? And I didn’t answer because the phone is dead. DOA. As soon as I get you settled in and check a couple of things, I have to head out and get a new one.”
Sydney lifted her eyebrows and sighed. “You might not think you’re hers, but Myrtle apparently has other ideas. She’ll be up here quizzing me by the end of the week, wait and see.”
“I’ve only ever been polite to her. She’d better not be up here,” he grumbled as he put the box down on her desk. “I swear if I’d known about Myrtle, I’d have rented office space somewhere else.”
“Poor Sawyer.” She laughed outright when he huffed out an exasperated breath.
A short while after that, he was ready to leave again, promising to return as soon as possible. “You think you have things in hand here by yourself?”
“Sure. If I have any questions, I’ll figure it out or bluff my way through it. Not my first rodeo, and you won’t be gone all day, right?”
“Right.”
She worked on getting his files back into shape while he was gone as he’d familiarized her with the system during a lull on Friday. By the time he got back, she had a good start on things. This time, he was the one carrying the bribe.
“Peace offering, apology, whatever you want to call it. Fresh strawberry cupcake,” he said as he handed her the small pastry box from the bakery next door to the photography studio. “Your mom said you liked them.”
More pleased than she knew was healthy, Sydney smiled up at him widely as she accepted the package. “I love them! I found some great bakeries on the East Coast that made some pretty damned good desserts, but none that made strawberry cupcakes that came close to these. Thank you.”