Part 4 (2/2)
”What didn't I do? You name it and I think I've done it.
Waited tables, worked at a law offi ce and at the zoo.” Sawyer ticked them off on her fi ngers.
”But you didn't stay at any of those places?”
Sawyer shrugged, unable to explain why she'd never felt settled. There was no great drama or deciding factor, but with each of those jobs she had suddenly become restless and had to get out. She'd hoped that if she found a career that fi t, she might begin to feel more comfortable in her own skin. ”So what about you, did you always want to be a chef?”
Jori considered the question, trying to decide how much to reveal. ”Yeah, I used to cook a lot when I was younger. After high school I went to culinary school during the day and waited tables at night and on weekends.”
As a child she'd begun planning early to be on her own. She had known since she was old enough to understand what it meant to be in foster care that she would someday have to survive alone.
In the last of a string of foster homes she had been charged with caring for the younger children while both parents worked late every night. She quickly learned how to cook for them, and since the pantry was rarely well stocked, she also fi gured out how to be creative with few ingredients. So when it came time to choose a career, she'd gravitated toward food. It had taken some time and a lot of work for her to get there, but all the work had been worth it. She loved her job, especially since she had come to Drake's, and she constantly challenged herself to create new recipes.
”You worked full-time while you were in school?”
”Sure. I had to pay the rent somehow.” When, the day after her eighteenth birthday, her foster parents told her she needed to fi nd someplace else to live, she was prepared. She packed her few belongings, retrieved the money she'd hidden in a coffee can in the back of her closet, and found a tiny apartment in the warehouse district.
”My parents paid for our education, because they a.s.sumed * 47 *
we would work at Drake's, and I guess they considered it an investment in the restaurant.” Sawyer gave a self-effacing grin.
”Two out of three ain't bad, huh?”
”You're there now.”
”Yeah, but that's temporary. And don't think my mother didn't ask for a refund when she found out I got a job as a tour guide on a trolley after college.”
Jori wasn't successful in smothering a laugh. ”You were a tour guide? Did you have a uniform?”
”Yes, I did.” Mischief fl ashed in Sawyer's eyes. She leaned close and lowered her voice. ”And I looked d.a.m.n cute in it.”
”I'll just bet you did.” Jori pictured her in a sharply pressed khaki uniform pointing out tourist attractions and thought her square-framed gla.s.ses would make her seem even more knowledgeable. She was probably popular among the guests, friendly and engaging.
Sawyer laughed and, taking Jori's empty plate, she stood.
”Can I get you anything else? Another drink?”
”No, I'm fi ne.”
”Okay, I'll be right back.”
Jori watched as Sawyer disposed of their plates and strode confi dently through the crowd, occasionally pausing to return a greeting. She was surprised at the slight clench of jealousy when Sawyer leaned close to a pretty young woman and smiled as they spoke. Sawyer laughed at something the woman said, then moved on.
She looked comfortable and relaxed, and Jori was envious.
She'd never had that level of ease. Merely being there-sitting apart from the group-had her stomach in knots. She'd been fi ne while they were talking, but without Sawyer at her side she again felt nervousness build inside her.
”Miss me?” Sawyer asked with a grin when she returned.
”Oh, yes, terribly.” Jori purposely injected false enthusiasm into her voice.
”Okay. You don't need to patronize me.”
* 48 *
Jori held back her response as a blond boy, a miniature Brady, ran over.
”Aunt Sawyer, we're gonna play T-ball and we need an umpire.” Sawyer barely kept from falling out of her chair when he yanked her hand. She glanced at Jori.
”Go ahead,” Jori said as he continued to tug.
”Come on,” he grumbled.
”Come with me. The boys could use a cheerleader.”
”Maybe later,” Jori hedged. She wasn't the cheerleader type.
”They could be at it for a while. My kids have endless energy,” Paige said as she approached Jori's spot under the tree.
”Mind if I join you?”
”Please.” Jori gestured to the chair Sawyer had vacated.
”Which are yours?”
”That's my oldest, Daniel, playing fi rst base.” She pointed to the blond who had come to persuade Sawyer to join them. Paige searched the group of children before indicating a smaller boy wandering around in the outfi eld. ”And there's Quintin.”
Instead of paying attention to the action at home plate, he bent down to study something in the gra.s.s at his feet.
”He looks just like you.” His hair was a halo of s.h.i.+ny strawberry curls, and Jori guessed if she were close enough she would see freckles dotting his pale skin.
”Yeah, poor kid.”
”What are you talking about? You're beautiful.” Jori had spoken without thinking, and as soon as she realized what she'd said, she felt her face fl ush. ”I mean-I-”
”Thank you.” Paige touched her arm fl eetingly. But her easy acceptance did little to cool the heat in Jori's cheeks.
”Um, so, Erica said you're a stay-at-home mom,” Jori said in an effort to draw attention from her embarra.s.sment.
”Before the kids, I worked in an offi ce downtown, but with * 49 *
the hours Brady keeps it was sometimes hard to plan for child care. Eventually we realized it made more sense for me to stay home.” Her eyes followed the action on the makes.h.i.+ft diamond.
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