Part 6 (1/2)
As the hostess hung up the phone, she turned to Sawyer with a friendly smile that was undoubtedly one of the reasons Erica had hired her. She had seemingly endless patience no matter how full the lobby got, and on more than one occasion, Sawyer had seen her talk a patron out of his irritation at having to wait for a table.
Sawyer reviewed the section a.s.signments for the night's servers, including the cl.u.s.ter of tables she would be handling.
Then she walked around the dining room, stopping to check on each table.
Her fi nal stop was a full circular booth in the corner. A man with thick salt-and-pepper hair that feathered back from his forehead sat in the center, fl anked by several young men in dark suits.
”How is everything this evening, gentlemen?” she asked.
The men didn't look up from their plates, clearly deferring to the older man.
”Everything is wonderful as usual, miss. My compliments to the chef. If I may ask, where is Miss Drake this evening? We're * 57 *
here every Monday and I don't recall a single night she wasn't working.” He waved his hands as he spoke and Sawyer noticed several gold rings pushed over thick knuckles.
”My sister is not here this evening,” she answered politely, keeping her answer general in deference to Erica's privacy. The young man closest to her s.h.i.+fted slightly, and through the gap in his jacket she caught sight of a compact handgun tucked into a shoulder holster. Instinctively, she took a step back, and when she jerked her eyes back to the ringleader she saw that he'd noticed her reaction.
”Sister? Then you must be Sawyer,” he said with a friendly smile. When she gave him a curious look, he said, ”Erica talks about you. Please, tell her that Lieutenant Ames said h.e.l.lo.” He casually eased his jacket back so she could see the fl ash of his gold s.h.i.+eld.
She wondered if he could hear her sigh of relief. ”I certainly will, Lieutenant. Well, I'll leave you to your meal. Let me know if I can get you anything.”
”Certainly. And you can call me Derrick.”
Laughing at her overactive imagination, Sawyer headed for the kitchen. She always loved that fi rst moment when she entered the room. There was something nostalgic in the bustling energy of the various chefs rus.h.i.+ng to plate appetizers and meals.
Her mother said the kitchen was the one place that stimulated all the senses. Sawyer paused to enjoy the sizzle from the saute pan and the cloud of steam roiling from a large pot on the range.
She inhaled and envisioned Tia standing at the kitchen door and identifying the exact foods and spices that composed the mingled aroma.
”d.a.m.n, no wonder Erica's exhausted,” Sawyer said as she pushed through the kitchen door after closing. She'd just fi nished * 58 *
a fi nal check of the dining room and bar area. She crossed to the table where Jori still worked. ”What are you making?”
”Frosting for tomorrow's cake.”
”Jori, I just closed everything up. It's late. Why don't you go home and do that tomorrow?” Secretly she was happy to fi nd Jori here alone. There was something intimate about the nearly tangible stillness of the partially darkened kitchen. Jori had left on the row of lights closest to her, but the ones at the far end of the s.p.a.cious room were unnecessary for her workstation. Her dark eyes appeared even more mysterious and the low light softened her features. It had been a busy day and she looked tired, but her beauty still made Sawyer's chest ache.
”I'm almost done. I'm making three other desserts tomorrow, and the cake is the only one that will keep until then. Besides, I love the peace of the restaurant when no one else is here. But I can go if I'm holding you up.”
”You're not keeping me from anything.” Sawyer pulled a stool close to Jori and sat. ”I hope you don't mind the company.”
”Of course not.” Jori slid a stainless steel bowl of melted chocolate under the mixer, added sour cream, and turned it on.
”I thought you were making frosting,” Sawyer said when Jori turned the mixer off and extracted the bowl.
”I am.” Jori felt Sawyer's breath sweep across her forearm as she leaned closer to peer over her shoulder. She dipped a spoon into the thick frosting, testing the consistency.
”With sour cream?”
When Sawyer wrinkled her nose, she smiled. ”A skeptic, eh?” She held up the spoon. ”Taste.”
Sawyer took the spoon, but her expression said she was still unsure. ”You fi rst.”
The challenge in Sawyer's voice struck a compet.i.tive vein in Jori. This was her domain and if Sawyer wanted to test her, then she had to answer. When Sawyer would have handed the utensil back to her, Jori simply dragged one fi nger through the * 59 *
sweet concoction. She met Sawyer's gaze and sucked her fi nger into her mouth seductively, letting the rich icing melt on her tongue. Sawyer's eyebrows lifted and she gasped softly, which surprisingly made Jori's stomach tighten.
”Perfect,” she rasped, unable to keep the trickle of excitement out of her voice.
”I think”- Sawyer paused and slowly ran her tongue over the back of the spoon-”you're right. It's heavenly. And I think you are secretly a tease.”
”No.”
”Not even if I want you to be?”
Jori smiled. ”No.” She wasn't a tease. At least, she never had been. But she hadn't been able to resist the attempt to fl uster the normally confi dent Sawyer. What she hadn't intended was her own body's reaction or the fact that she could so easily shed her usual self-consciousness. The protracted drag of Sawyer's tongue over the spoon gave her time to imagine that tongue against her own skin, and the vividness of the vision shocked her. Their fl irting, which had begun with a buzz of arousal, had ratcheted into full-blown l.u.s.t in a matter of seconds.
”Hmm. Pity,” Sawyer murmured.
Jori watched Sawyer deliberately place the spoon on the counter in front of them. Her slender fi ngers seemed to caress the arch of the utensil as she released it, and suddenly Jori wished she were braver, but her shyness reappeared. She could easily close the small s.p.a.ce between them and- What? Idiot. What would she do with her boss's sister, who, from everything she'd heard, had the shortest attention span in the world?
* 60 *
CHAPTER SIX.
I'm ready,” Jori called as she fi nished wiping down her work surface.
”Just let me set the alarm, then I'll walk you out.” Sawyer waited for the series of beeps that signaled she could leave. ”Are you in a hurry to get home?”
”Not really.”
”Then how about a walk by the river?” The c.u.mberland River wound through the city like the curled end of ribbon on gift wrap, coiling around downtown and then doubling back to fl ow past the Opryland Hotel and into Old Hickory Lake.
”Sure.” Jori waited while Sawyer whipped the tie from her collar and tossed it in the open window of her car. At some point during the evening, she had rolled up her sleeves. Now she freed the b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt from her waistband, then took off her gla.s.ses and tucked them in her breast pocket. A strand of hair the color of dark honey fell across her cheek, and when Sawyer reached up and slipped it behind her ear the gesture seemed familiar. Jori realized she'd seen Sawyer do it often throughout the evening as she pa.s.sed through the kitchen, and it was unsettling to discover how much she'd been watching her.
”By the end of the night I can't wait to get out of that tie.”
Sawyer led her across the street toward the park. The night air * 61 *
was warm and heavy and carried the scents of the city-exhaust mingled with the smell of fried foods wafting out from the bars that lined the street. The glow of neon beckoned patrons to the various establishments, and blues and reds bled into the orange halos of the streetlights.
Riverfront Park was comprised of a large swath of land between the river and First Avenue. At one end was a scaled-down replica of Fort Nashborough and, at the other, a large commercial dock where the General Jackson riverboat stopped during the dinner cruise.
Oversized concrete steps were etched into the gra.s.sy bank providing a place for people to sit during outdoor events. In the summer, a collection of the downtown businesses sponsored a free weekly concert series intended to draw people into the area.