Part 3 (2/2)
Erica only hoped it didn't blossom into anything; maybe Jori's shyness would hinder Sawyer's efforts.
She felt a little guilty for rooting against Sawyer's success.
But she was still irritated with her a.s.sumption that she could solve all of her problems by simply hiring someone. She didn't expect Sawyer to understand what it meant to sacrifi ce her desires for the good of the business. After all, she was free to fl it from one job to the next and one relations.h.i.+p to the next, never caring about the state of the one she left behind.
Five years earlier one of Erica's closest friends had confi ded that she'd started seeing Sawyer. Erica had tried to stay neutral and wished them the best. But when Sawyer broke her heart, Erica lost a friend as well. Sawyer, however, went on about her life unaffected, as always.
Now that Erica had to make decisions for the good of Drake's instead of herself, her resentment of Sawyer was twisted up with jealousy of Sawyer's apparently carefree life.
Sawyer shoved through the swinging kitchen door and yanked off her ap.r.o.n. She resisted the urge to sling it onto the nearest surface and instead draped it over her arm. The aromas of that night's menu mingled in the air, each competing for her attention. She drank them in and they separated inside her senses-something fried, roasting meat, and a dish with a touch of jalapeno. She'd grown up in this kitchen; sorting the fl avors was automatic and something she'd done since she was a child.
Brady moved effi ciently between two saucepans, a frying pan on the range, and the large oven nearby. Sawyer pa.s.sed him up in favor of the counter where Jori worked. As she approached, Jori swiped her forearm across her temple, then picked up a * 38 *
lemon and rolled it between her palm and the metal surface. She pulled a knife from the magnetic bar attached to the wall. The sharp scent of citrus accompanied the smooth glide of the blade through the fruit.
”Hi.” Sawyer leaned against the counter, one palm pressed to the cool surface.
”Hey,” Jori said, barely glancing up.
”Sawyer.” Erica crossed the kitchen, and when she got close enough to keep her voice down, she said, ”I need you out front.
Not back here hanging out.”
”I've been running my a.s.s off out there, Erica. My tables are covered, I'm taking a break.” When Sawyer ignored the frustrated look Erica cast her, she rolled her eyes and walked away. ”How do you work for her?” she asked Jori.
”She's a great boss.”
”Yeah. Try being related to her. I think personal relations.h.i.+ps interfere with supervisory ones.”
”You're right about that.”
Jori's tone piqued Sawyer's interest. ”Are you speaking from experience?”
”It's a long story. Would you like to sample my lemon meringue torte?” She held up a plate she'd just fi nished garnis.h.i.+ng.
A square of lemon cake was topped with fl uffy white meringue, the tips of the peaks tinged golden. A sprig of mint and a fan of thinly sliced lemon added to the visual effect.
”Ah, you're a quick study. You already know how to distract me.” Sawyer took the plate, forked a bite into her mouth, and groaned. The tart lemon fl avor that practically burst on her tongue was tempered by the lightest meringue she had ever tasted. ”This is amazing.”
”Thanks.” Jori smiled and again rubbed her arm against her forehead. ”I have a piece of hair that keeps getting in my eye.
Could you push it back for me?”
”Sure.” After setting down her plate, she studied Jori's face.
A lock of dark hair rested close to the corner of her eye. Sawyer * 39 *
brushed it back and tucked it under the edge of her bandana, resisting the urge to rub the silky strand between her fi ngertips to determine if it was as soft as it appeared.
”Thank you,” Jori said quietly.
Sawyer searched her eyes and noticed for the fi rst time that her pupils were ringed with a halo of silver and the darkest gray irises she'd ever seen.
”Sawyer?” The question in Jori's voice made her realize she was still lightly touching Jori's temple.
She jerked her hand back and shoved it awkwardly in the pocket of her black slacks. ”Sorry. I guess I zoned out for a minute there.”
”I should get these orders done.” Jori appeared as fl ustered as Sawyer felt.
”Yeah.” She backed away from Jori. ”I need to get out there before Erica comes looking for me again.”
Sawyer walked through the front door to her apartment and dropped her keys on the table by the door. After only two days at the restaurant she was exhausted, her feet ached, and her back felt tight. Her only thought was of sinking into a steaming bath.
”Honey, I'm home,” she called as she walked into the living room. Her roommate, Matt, sat at one end of the sofa with a book open in his lap.
He glanced up from his book. ”How was your day?”
”Very long.” She dropped down on the sofa opposite him.
His faded T-s.h.i.+rt and disheveled brown hair belied the smooth car salesman he portrayed during the day. She was always a bit taken aback to see the disorganized boy she'd met in college put on a s.h.i.+rt and tie, slick back his hair, and run his game. But he was actually very good, having garnered multiple awards for top sales. ”Did you sell any cars today?”
* 40 *
”Two. My streak continues. How do you like working for your sister?”
”I don't know how long I can do this. Erica seems determined to treat me like hired help.” She rested her feet on the oak coffee table in front of her.
”Well, she's probably under a lot of pres-”
”Don't you dare take her side, Matt. Erica has never been helpless a day in her life. Why, all of a sudden, does everyone want me to feel sorry for her because she's pregnant?” Erica was one of the strongest women Sawyer knew. Outside of their conversation earlier that day, Sawyer had never seen even the tiniest crack in her composure.
”I'm not taking sides, but you have to admit Erica is dealing with a lot right now. After your dad's heart attack and their retirement, then she found out she was pregnant and that deadbeat she was dating took off-”
”And I'm a heartless b.i.t.c.h because I don't want to run the d.a.m.n restaurant,” Sawyer fi nished for him.
”Come on, Sawyer, this isn't you versus the world. Besides, martyrdom doesn't suit you.”
She didn't respond. It wouldn't do any good to argue with him now, even though she felt like he should have her back instead of being so rational. After all, he was her best friend and he'd been supporting her since that time, freshman year, when Misty Simmons had accused Sawyer of cheating on her, when really she'd been in a gay bar with Matt all night. As it turned out, Misty was much less interesting than Sawyer had originally thought anyway.
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