by Hall, Traci
…
At seven p.m. on Friday night, Sawyer was dressed in his cheapest off-the-rack suit, because he knew Daniella would hate it. If she was wearing blue, then he would clash with an orange tie.
As he knotted the silk in the mirror over the chest of drawers, he glanced behind him at the large bed and the Frank Stella painting over the headboard. It meant a great deal to him, but not as much as Grace. He’d decided to place the artwork up for auction when the house opened Monday. Sawyer would find some way to get her the money.
He imagined Grace in his bed. He wanted her in his life. Gazing back into the mirror, he tugged the tie uneven and crooked. Brown hair mussed. Unshaven. He was tempted to put spinach in his teeth on principle.
A single knock rapped on his door, and then Tomas stuck his head in, with a whistle of appreciation. He came all the way inside and stood next to Sawyer. “You dressed better in middle school.” They were the same height, had the same nose. Tomas had a leaner build and that unfortunate beard. “What is that around your neck?” Tomas flicked it up. “I didn’t even know that was a color.”
“Any luck, this eyesore will hurry the evening along.” Sawyer stuffed his wallet into his pocket with his keys. “I want to be home by ten and never think about Daniella again.”
“Be strong,” Tomas said, clapping him on the shoulder.
The two brothers walked down the stairs to the living room, where Bobby sat on the couch with Kita and Diamond. Sky had commandeered the armchair.
“So, you got the confirmation that your show will be about a bunch of soldiers?” asked Bobby, brow arched. He leaned forward, his long ponytail on his shoulder.
“Hey, I don’t have to be center stage.” Sawyer raised his hands.
“Since when?” Bobby snickered.
“They love the idea,” said Sawyer, “and most of the guys are onboard.” Everyone except Lincoln was willing to sign on the dotted line to bring awareness to the veterans.
Tomas rubbed his knuckles across his shirt and blew on them. “I knew it sounded good. A reality show about vets.”
“Training dogs with the vets,” clarified Sawyer. “Rallying the community.”
“Whatever, I still like the timed dog wash idea. Girls in bikinis? Why not?” Turning to the poodle and giving a hand command, Bobby asked, “Want to go visit your fur mom?”
Sky put her paws over her head.
The brothers laughed. “I’ll take that as a no.” Sawyer scratched Sky behind the ears. “You’re safe at home.”
“You know, this means you can finally date your secretary.” Bobby smoothed Diamond’s fur in even strokes.
Grace was so much more than that to him. “She deserves better than me.”
“Better than you?” Tomas shook his head and eyed the ceiling. “What happened to my brother?”
Sawyer held his arms to his sides as he informed his brothers, “I’m no longer a diva.”
Bobby and Tomas grinned at each other. “Welcome back, bro,” Bobby said.
Sawyer wasn’t going to approach Grace until he could promise his undivided loyalty. If he thought she’d be awake on his way home tonight, he’d stop in with flowers and apologies, but that probably wasn’t the best approach, either. He needed a plan. He’d been gutted when she hadn’t come to work today. He’d picked up the phone to call a million times. What could he say? Proof was in the doing, and right now he had to finish this to prove himself to Grace.
Bobby gave Diamond another pet, and the old dog groaned without opening his eyes. “This has been nice. We understand you’ve been busy and all, but we missed you.”
Sawyer cleared his throat. “Knock it off. I’m back. We are back, and we need a family meeting about Luca.”
“He’s sleeping with her,” Tomas said. “Probably feels crappy about that.”
Sawyer’s heart sank at his brother’s betrayal. “He can have her, but she’s no prize.” The only woman he wanted was Grace. He could see them together, despite their differences, sitting on the dock and watching the sunset—hand in hand. He pictured them older, grayer, and it felt right that they’d be side by side. Partners.
Bobby extended his arm along the back of the couch. “Let’s get you free first, and Luca can be our next intervention.”
“Gary sent over the signed contract. Daniella has promised to never speak publicly about me again after tonight.” Sawyer strode to the front door.
Tomas tugged his beard. “You’ve got this. And I agree with Bobby. You should date your secretary. She genuinely cares for you.”
“Her name’s Grace.” He patted his thundering heart. She was the one he wanted to spend his life with.
The. One.
Chapter Thirty
Grace kept looking at the clock.
Then her phone.
Then the clock. Six turned to seven. Seven to eight.
She’d switched to chamomile tea after a single glass of wine in order to relax, but it wasn’t working. She and Lottie had spent the last hour talking about all the good times they’d had over the years, how change was inevitable. She didn’t share her feelings about Sawyer because they didn’t make sense.
Grace scanned the bay. Losing her home was a reality in line with the Mr. Havilands and Griffin Carlisles of the world. She certainly wasn’t expecting Prince Sawyer Rivera Charming to ride up to her little house with his Land Rover and save the day. It wasn’t what she wanted anyway. She would save herself. With eight thousand dollars, she could get a line of credit somewhere, even if the interest was high.
He’d really listened to her when they’d been in his office, sharing a heart connection that had given her hope. What had changed—what had Luca meant? Sawyer had seemed surprised by the date. Maybe he hadn’t set it up himself, like Lottie suggested.
She scrutinized her small place—the linoleum, the old furniture, the green wall phone. Was it any surprise he’d chosen a glamorous woman over her?
Her sense of fair play urged her to see the truth. Sawyer wasn’t like that.
“Lottie,” she said, shoving her teacup aside. “I want to tell Sawyer I care for him.”
Lottie grinned. “Even though he’s on a date?”
Grace would regret never sharing her feelings. It was nearly dark outside when she heard tires on gravel. Her heart leaped that it might be Sawyer, but through the front window, she saw the boxy outline of a delivery truck.
With a quick glance at Lottie, Grace walked out the front door to meet the driver. The woman was a frazzled-looking twenty-something. By the porch light, Grace made out a tinge of blue hair.
“Certified delivery,” said the driver, handing over a pen. “Please sign here.”
“Thanks.” Grace brought the envelope inside, and the delivery truck left in a spit of rock and gravel.
She brought the envelope to the table where her friend was pouring another glass of wine.
“What’s that?” Lottie asked.
With a shrug, Grace read the name on the label, Visionist Marketing Group, and quickly opened it. “This must be the money for the calendar, from Kasam.”
Lottie leaned in with a smile. “Twenty-five hundred buckeroos.”
Grace pulled out the contract, the legalese she would decipher later, and the check beneath. She stared at the number in disbelief. Tears welled.
“Thirty thousand dollars,” she said the words out loud, just to make sure they were true.
Lottie took the check and her eyes widened. “Dear God.”
She didn’t wipe the tears as they spilled down her cheeks, filled with all the gratitude in the world. “I don’t understand.”
Lottie picked up the paperwork and scanned through it. “How much did you say you were getting?”
Grace looked at her friend through blurry eyes. “Twenty-five hundred.”
Lott
ie set the papers on the table for Grace to read. “This is twenty-five hundred per photo. Twenty-five hundred times twelve.”
Grace rubbed at her eyes with a laugh of pure gratitude. She could keep her house! “I can’t believe it,” she said. “No wonder Kasam was such a hard negotiator.”
Lottie burst out laughing. “I’d say you were. You’ve got no problems at the bank on Monday.”
A wonderful peace enveloped the room, with Violet sleeping on the couch so soundly with Bert, her family home safe again. Something was still not as right as it could be. She wanted to share her joy with Sawyer.
Lottie propped her elbow on the table. “You were saying something about breaking up a date?”
It went against the grain to fight for something, but she had to try.
“I…” Grace bowed her head. “It’s too soon for this to be real.” Her emotions were in a riot. She patted her racing heart. She more than cared. How?
“Says who?” Lottie waved her hand in the air, wearing a big grin.
“Daniella and Sawyer are having a nice dinner somewhere. My dinner.” She’d wanted to feel more on equal footing. Now she could pay her taxes, fix her van, and she had freelance projects lined up. She was a successful artist. They were each entrepreneurs. What else could they have in common? Maybe she should focus on that rather than their differences.
Lottie’s gaze hardened with determination. “Follow your instincts, Grace. Why are you letting this model sweet talk your man?”
“I believe in peaceful protest.” He should call her and apologize. Then again, she’d told him to forget about her and their dinner. She’d pushed him away—what if he didn’t know she cared?
Lottie swept her foot out like she was making a soccer goal. “Sometimes you need to do a little ass-kicking.”
Grace eyed the clock. Were Sawyer and Daniella holding hands? Playing footsie under the table? “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“Is he worth fighting for?”
Sheer determination flowed through her body. “Yes.” She’d show him that sweet Grace had a feisty side. “He is. I think he’s having dinner at some place called the Billionaire’s Club.” A restaurant he’d wanted to share with her.
Violet and Bert slept quietly on the couch. “I’ll go check with Sawyer’s brothers next door to make sure. They must hate Daniella for putting Sawyer through so much trouble. I bet they’ll tell me and give me directions.” Lottie got up and gave Grace a push toward her bedroom. “You can’t go out with paint in your hair. Go, get ready, but hurry.”
Grace showered the paint and grime free and had gotten as far as lotion when Lottie arrived back from next door with a victorious grin. “Those Rivera men are hot, hot, hot. I especially like the one who looks like a pirate—with the beard?”
“Tomas.”
“Yeah, but it was Bobby who slipped me the directions. He makes a ponytail very sexy. Sawyer is having dinner at eight at the Billionaire’s Club in downtown Seattle.”
Grace eyed the clock in panic. Was this a mistake? “It’s almost nine.” She would do it. She had to.
Lottie nudged her encouragingly toward the front door. “Bobby said dinner there takes at least three hours. If you hurry, you can catch him before dessert.”
Chapter Thirty-One
“I’m so sorry,” Daniella said from across the intimate table at the Billionaire’s Club. Her dull brown eyes seemed boring to him after Grace’s vibrant blue. Would this night ever end? She squeezed his fingers and went off script. “I’d hoped we could try again. I still love you, Sawyer.”
Sawyer yanked his hand back in alarm and looked around the romantic restaurant. “That’s not what you’re supposed to say. You were an hour late. What game are you playing?”
“It’s not a game, Sawyer.”
He noticed Grace at the podium. The host urged her forward, but she stopped when she saw Sawyer with Daniella at the table.
“Ma’am?” The host glanced at her in confusion.
“I’ve made a mistake,” Grace murmured.
Sawyer shook his head. Grace hadn’t made a mistake—she’d come for him. To rescue him? He raised his hand to her.
Grace pasted on a tremulous smile. “Sawyer! I’m afraid the ferry was late, but I’m here for our dinner date.”
Daniella tilted her head as if trying to place Grace, then a tiny frown centered between her brows. Sawyer nearly swallowed his tongue at the gorgeous vision of Grace in some sort of fifties noir outfit. All she needed was lace at her hair and a long cigarette holder. She had flair and her own unique style among the stuffy suits and pearls.
His heart thumped off-beat. Why was she here? He braced for the worst even as he gestured for a third chair to be brought. The young man who’d followed behind Grace immediately returned with one, and staff arrived like magicians to make more room at their intimate round table by the window, with a view of Seattle’s city lights.
Daniella sputtered over her shrimp scampi and reached for her merlot. “What are you doing here?” She nodded toward a small camera in the potted palm behind the table. “You’re ruining everything. The deal is off, Sawyer.”
“The deal was off when you didn’t stay on script per your signed contract. I never should’ve accepted your idea of a truce.” It had been for his family’s sake as well as his own, but still…he shouldn’t have allowed himself to be taken in.
“I love you, Sawyer. Like you love me.” Daniella sang the words, but perspiration dotted her upper lip.
“That’s a lie.” He turned to Grace. “Daniella was supposed to meet me tonight to publicly apologize for her slanderous behavior.”
Daniella gripped her wineglass with fury.
“Why was she going to apologize?” Grace ignored Daniella, cutting her out of their conversation.
“Her agent can’t find anyone willing to book her because of her actions. Not just toward me, but in general.” He met Daniella’s glare. “She’s not very nice.”
Grace took his hand. “I’m glad I came, then.”
“You’re not welcome at this table,” slurred Daniella.
He kissed Grace’s fingers. “I’m thrilled to see you, but why are you here?”
“I care about you, Sawyer.” She gave him a shy smile that tugged at his heart. “If I didn’t tell you that, then I would regret it.”
Daniella snapped her fingers in the air to summon the waiter.
Grace stared into his eyes, and he projected the love he held for her, wanting her to know she wasn’t on this journey alone. “You said it was a trick,” she said, “but I didn’t understand. This wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. I didn’t trust myself not to tell you how I felt.”
“Go home,” Daniella said to Grace. “Or we’ll have to do this another night.”
“No. We won’t.” Sawyer shouldn’t have gone along with this in the first place, but he’d thought it the fastest way to be done with the situation. “I love you, Grace.” It was liberating to say the words.
Daniella stood regally and then plucked a tiny device out of the spray of orchids and slid it into her handbag. “I’ll contact my agent about this.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. I offered you a chance to make things right. Should I call you a cab?” Daniella’s eyes glittered as she accepted it was time for her to go.
“That’s all right, Sawyer. Your brother is waiting for me at our hotel.” She sashayed out as if on a runway in Milan.
Sawyer shook his head and waved toward the gaping waiter. “Check, please.”
Grace’s blue eyes glittered with emotion. “I’m not sorry to have ruined your date.”
“Oh, our date has just started.” He knew that it had taken a lot of courage for Grace to show up like this. “I’m not letting you go now, not when you look so beautiful. But I don’t want to spend it here—unless you d
o?” He gestured to the night sky and the city lights. “The view is stunning. And I promised dessert.”
She studied him, a black curl at her cheek. “You’d stay if I wanted?”
“Yes.” From now on, Sawyer would do anything to make Grace happy.
“Let’s get out of here.” Grace scrunched her nose. “How about Ivar’s down at the wharf? They’re open until eleven.”
He ran a finger over her shoulder. “You’re overdressed for a chowder stand.”
“No such thing, Sawyer.” She nodded at his chest. “And have I said a thing about your atrocious tie? No.”
Sawyer grinned and tugged it off, dropping it on the table. He quickly signed the bill, adding a generous tip for the drama. He didn’t need that in his life at all. He clasped Grace’s hand, and they left the restaurant.
“Now, Ivar’s might not be up to your standards, but it’s the best clam chowder around.” Grace dared him to disagree with an arched silky black brow. “And I happen to know that the Ferris wheel over the water offers an even better view of the city at night. And”—she squeezed his fingers—“we can make out at the top.”
“Make out, huh?” Sawyer wanted to skip dinner and have Grace for dessert. He kissed the back of her hand when they reached the street. She wrapped a shawl around her body.
“Should we drive?” he asked.
“Let’s walk.” She raised her face to the moon. “It’s only a few blocks to the pier.”
“You’re okay in your heels?”
“I am. Thank you. Are you all right?” Her tone teased him for being a gentleman.
He put his arm around her and dropped a kiss to her now. “Better by the second.”
She smiled up at him, leaning into his side.
When they reached Ivar’s, they shared clam chowder, and halibut fish and chips with malt vinegar, eating while standing at the wooden bar overlooking the water. There were too many buildings to see the stars. She shivered from the wind over the bay, and he slipped off his suit jacket to drape it over Grace’s shoulders. She snuggled into its warmth.