A Song For Rory. Cerella Sechrist
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took her cue from her coworker and followed.
Before the two men could continue their argument, a customer approached and held out her napkin, along with a pen.
“Excuse me? Mr. Landry? My daughter is a big fan, and she’d just love it if I could get her your autograph.” She held out her napkin and a pen, and he took the items in hand.
“Sure, what’s her name?”
The woman beamed. “Allison. Allie, that is. Or whichever you prefer.”
He scribbled a quick note, wishing Allie all the best, and then signed his name with a flourish.
He sensed Connor’s mounting irritation.
“Oh, thank you, thank you so much.” The woman paused. “And...would you mind taking a picture with me? Just so I can prove to her it was really you?”
“No problem.” Sawyer stepped to the side so the woman could move in beside him.
She turned to Connor and handed him her cell phone.
“Would you mind terribly?”
Connor did mind, Sawyer could see it, but he wasn’t about to deny a customer. He wordlessly took the phone, framed the shot and clicked as Sawyer grinned broadly for the camera.
“Oh, that’s just wonderful. Thank you!” The woman was speaking to him, barely sparing Connor a glance as she reclaimed her cell phone. “Thank you so much! Allie will be so excited.”
Sawyer looked at Connor, eyebrows raised as though daring him to allow this to continue. A few chairs scraped, and Sawyer had the sense a receiving line was about to form. Connor must have realized it, too, because he grabbed Sawyer by the arm and hauled him away from the table.
“In the back. Now.”
Sawyer shot one last look over his shoulder and saw several crestfallen faces as he was dragged away. Once the dining room disappeared from view, Connor warned him, “I’ll take you to her, but if she doesn’t want to talk to you, you leave through the back. You got it?”
“Got it.”
Connor hesitated, his green eyes cold. “You don’t deserve her forgiveness, you know.”
Sawyer grew serious. “I know. But I’m hoping she’ll grant it anyway.”
Connor gestured for him to follow and didn’t comment further one way or another.
* * *
RORY PACED IN Connor’s office, her black Converse sneakers squeaking on the hardwood floor each time she pivoted on her heel. Normally, she found this room soothing. After the fire that had damaged a large part of the building, Harper had seen to it that the back office was remodeled into a charming work space for Connor. Though it wasn’t overly large, the slate-blue walls and sea-glass collage artwork were calming. Harper shared the space with Connor, too, and while his half of the room was usually a jumble of papers and notes, Harper’s tiny glass-topped desk remained neat and tidy, often with fresh flowers in the pottery vase displayed on the corner surface. Rory had caught Connor adding flowers to that vase on more than one occasion. It warmed her to think her brother could be such a romantic where Harper was concerned.
Today, however, she spared little thought for her brother’s love life. She was too overwhelmed with her own.
Sawyer was here. Back in Findlay Roads. In the restaurant. Sawyer was here...for her? After the last couple of years trying to separate herself from the idea of ever seeing him again, he was suddenly back. And he’d sought her out.
She was still trying to wrap her head around this revelation when a soft knock sounded on Connor’s office door.
A second later, it eased open, and Connor stuck in his head.
Behind him, she caught a glance of Sawyer. She stepped back and shook her head.
“No. Connor, no. I said I don’t want to talk to him.”
Connor grimaced. “I know, but I can’t have him in the restaurant.”
“Then kick him out!”
“He won’t go without talking to you first.”
She scowled.
“Rory, please.” Sawyer’s voice sounded from the crack in the doorway. He edged it open and stood next to Connor. “Just five minutes. Five minutes, and then I won’t bother you anymore. Please.”
She raised her chin. “I can’t. I’m on the clock.”
“Not anymore,” Connor said. “You’re taking a break.”
“I just got here,” she protested, but Connor’s gaze pleaded with her.
“Vanessa can fill in for you for a bit.”
Rory opened her mouth to protest and then closed it. If Connor was asking her to do this then she should. He wouldn’t make such a request of her lightly.
“Fine,” she snapped. “Five minutes.”
Connor appeared relieved and then sheepish. “Um, would you both mind discussing things...elsewhere?”
Rory raised an eyebrow.
“I think it would be better if Sawyer left the premises,” he explained.
“Oh.” Rory wasn’t sure what that was about, but decided that if she was going to talk to Sawyer, it didn’t matter whether it was here or somewhere else.
“Why don’t we take a stroll on the promenade?” Sawyer suggested.
Rory folded her arms across her chest.
“Fine. But your five minutes starts the next time you open your mouth.”
Sawyer nodded but wisely didn’t utter a sound.
* * *
THE PROMENADE WAS blessedly vacant this time of day as people spent the late afternoon hours shopping or sailing on the bay. A few couples were scattered along the boardwalk and one man was fishing over one of the railings, but they were spread out so that Rory and Sawyer were mostly alone.
Sawyer had taken her at her word about when the timer on his five minutes would begin. He said nothing as they’d walked from Callahan’s to the promenade and still remained silent as they began strolling the stretch of boardwalk. After a good three minutes of silence, Rory grew too uncomfortable to allow it to continue. She stopped and turned to face him, crossing her arms over her torso. She made a point of tapping her wrist.
“Okay. You can start talking now.”
But he didn’t, not right away. At first, she thought he was antagonizing her, but then she realized he seemed to be searching for the words. His struggle gave her a moment to study him more closely. His light brown hair was trimmed short around his ears and behind his neck. She couldn’t see any more, since he still wore the baseball cap he’d been sporting in the restaurant. He didn’t wear any sunglasses, despite the afternoon sunshine. A part of her wished he had. It was difficult to stare into the familiar warmth of his blue eyes. He had a faint dusting of scruff along his jaw, and she wasn’t sure if it was an intended effect or whether he’d just not bothered shaving that morning. Maybe he’d been in too much of a hurry...to see her?
She tensed. She couldn’t let herself think such things.
It was hard not to, though, when he kept stealing glances at her, his mouth twitching slightly every time she met his gaze. It was also strange to be standing so near to him, after so much time apart.
He was somehow different...and yet still Sawyer. The way he carried himself was new to her. He moved with an easy confidence, maybe even a touch of arrogance, as if he’d finally found his place in the world, and no one could take him from it.
She hated that. She admired it. She envied it.
“I’m going to