A Place to Rest Part 12

"Come on, boys, it's past your bedtime." Brady corralled them toward the door. To Sawyer he said, "I'll see you tomorrow at work."

Sawyer nodded and accepted Paige's hug and her whispered "Thank you."

When they'd gone, Jori and Sawyer stood in awkward silence. Jori shifted from foot to foot and wondered how best to excuse herself from the room.

"Jori, I-"

"Sawyer-" They spoke at the same time.

"I guess I'll be seeing you at work." Sawyer's voice was hesitant.

Jori took her words as an offer of truce. She knew Sawyer was trying to avoid apologizing, but knowing Erica's health was Sawyer's foremost concern, she decided to let it slide.

"I want to say h.e.l.lo to Erica before I go," Jori said, avoiding her eyes and carefully keeping her tone neutral. She could be professional despite the tension that still wound tight between them.

Early the next morning, Sawyer climbed the fl ight of stairs at Drake's, the thick soles of her boots echoing on the steps. At the top, she dropped the suitcase she carried long enough to dig Erica's key out of her pocket. She shoved open the heavy metal door and pushed the bag inside with her foot, leaving it just inside to deal with later.

Erica hadn't changed much in the apartment since Sawyer * 101 *

was there last. Gleaming honeyed hardwood fl oors stretched from the front door to the far wall, where a large window looked out over Riverfront Park and the c.u.mberland River. Considering the downtown locale and the view, if they ever decided to lease out the apartment they could ask a fortune.

Erica, favoring a modern touch, had chosen bright colors throughout the open s.p.a.ce. As in the offi ce, she had apparently chosen the red sofa facing the window for its dramatic lines rather than for comfort. The boldly patterned accent chair sitting perpendicular to the sofa was the one piece of furniture Sawyer could actually get comfortable in. She wasn't entirely sure she could live there for even a month. But she had decided by the time Erica had the baby and was ready to move home, she would know what she wanted to do. If everything worked out between Matt and Davis, and she hoped for Matt's sake it did, she would be looking for a new apartment.

As she circled the counter that divided the kitchen from the main living area, she remembered how she'd teased Erica the fi rst time she'd seen the renovation. Despite the full professional kitchen just a fl oor below, Erica had kept things top-of-the-line in her personal s.p.a.ce as well. The kitchen was laid out in an effi cient manner, with stainless-steel Pro-Series appliances and a wooden block housing her favorite set of knives.

The dark granite countertop accented the light maple cabinets with frosted-gla.s.s door inserts, but Sawyer grimaced at the kiwi-colored walls. She and her sister had completely different taste.

Well, I can't criticize her for at least making an effort to decorate.

My beige apartment doesn't exactly scream "me."

Now that she thought about it, she hadn't lived anywhere that felt like home to her in years. The last place that inspired any nostalgia in her was the house in the suburbs she'd grown up in. When she sought the comfort of sepia-toned memories, she recalled the home her parents had provided. While she would admit her childhood hadn't always been idyllic, it had been good.

She suddenly remembered how Jori had trusted her with the story * 102 *

of her own less-than-perfect upbringing and was ashamed of how she'd fl ung it in her face the fi rst time Jori challenged her.

Since she'd moved out of her parents' house, she had fl oated from one apartment to another, rarely staying longer than the length of her lease. And with the exception of a fi replace or washer and dryer here or there, they were all pretty much the same. She'd spent all of that time transferring her belongings from one cookie-cutter box to another.

"Did you get Erica settled?" Sawyer asked Brady as she walked into the restaurant kitchen. She'd spent some time getting settled upstairs, then worked in Erica's offi ce for a while. When she'd heard the sound of rattling pots and pans that signifi ed life in the kitchen, she had come out.

"Yeah. She wants you to drop by tomorrow so she can go over things with you," Brady said, smiling.

"She's miserable already, isn't she?" She smiled at Jori over Brady's shoulder, but the pastry chef was either too engrossed in the chocolate she was shaving or purposely avoiding Sawyer's eyes.

"You know she hates not being in control." Brady dipped a spoon in one of the pans on the stovetop and handed it to her.

She tasted the savory reduction. "Red wine, shallots, and garlic," she guessed, falling easily into a game their mother had played while they were growing up. Though only Brady and Erica worked in the business, all three of them owed their practiced palates to Tia Drake.

"And chicken stock." Brady tested the sauce and added more wine. "She's already made a list of things she wants to tell you about running the place. Just go over there and humor her."

"I'd planned to stop by tomorrow anyway. I have a few questions myself."

"Please, don't give her a hard time."

* 103 *

"Why would you a.s.sume I'd give her a hard time?"

"Because you're the two most stubborn women I know." He handed the saucepan to Chuck.

"You mean besides Mom, right?"

"Well, I guess we know where you both get it from. It's a d.a.m.n good thing I inherited Dad's tolerance."

Sawyer glanced at Chuck in time to see him smother a smile.

She narrowed her eyes and he pretended to look chagrined, but she knew Chuck saw right through her mock sternness.

"Don't worry, little brother, I'll play nice tomorrow." She watched Chuck pull one of the perfectly seared steaks from the grill and place it on a plate, then spoon some of Brady's reduction over it. She separated a sprig of parsley and garnished each plate as Chuck slid it in front of her.

"See that you do."

Brady's attempt at peacekeeping annoyed her. As usual he focused on keeping Erica satisfi ed, which always made Sawyer feel like an outsider in her own family. "Your wife is rubbing off on you, Brady."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment, even though I know you didn't mean it that way."

When Sawyer stalked back to the dining room without responding, Jori watched her go. She'd carefully avoided looking at her while she was talking to Brady, though several times she thought she'd felt Sawyer's eyes on her. She probably shouldn't hold on to her anger about the way Sawyer had handled things when she'd left. That had been over a week ago, and so much had happened since then it seemed silly to cling to those hurt feelings.

She wondered if she'd read too much into the situation. She had taken Sawyer's leaving personally when, as Sawyer had so cavalierly told her, it had nothing to do with her. Why should Sawyer consider Jori's feelings when deciding whether to quit her job? Aside from an incredible attraction, what was really * 104 *

between them? The beginnings of a friendship...maybe. But that wasn't reason enough to keep Sawyer at Drake's.

Whatever her personal issues, Jori knew she would set them aside in deference to Erica's condition. The Drake family needed to focus on her health and the safe delivery of the baby. So she and Sawyer would have a truce by way of avoidance, even if that was all they could manage.

* 105 *

* 106 *

CHAPTER TEN.

One of the servers caught up with Sawyer as she circled the dining room. "The guy at table twenty-three wants to speak to the manager."

She sighed. "I'll be right there."

They were halfway through the evening and she hadn't had even a few minutes of downtime. She had developed a circuit of sorts between checking in at the hostess stand, making the rounds of the dining room, and sticking her head in the kitchen. But she didn't have time for more than a quick exchange with Brady and a glance in Jori's direction. Often Jori continued to work, her head bent over the plate in front of her. But when she did look up and their eyes met, Sawyer immediately lost her concentration. Once she stopped right in front of the door and one of the waitresses hurrying to pick up an order nearly ran over her.

She smoothed her hand over her hips and focused on adopting a professional air as she wove through the tables. As she reached number twenty-three she pasted on a polite smile.

"I'm the manager, sir. Can I help you with something?"

"You certainly can." The rotund man puffed out his chest and glared at her from under heavy gray brows. "This is overcooked."

He handed her his plate. The goat cheese and arugula ravioli was one of Brady's most popular pasta dishes.

"I'll bring another right out for you."

* 107 *

She crossed the dining room, pushed through the swinging door, and slid the plate in front of Brady. "I need another ravioli.

The customer says this one is overcooked."

Brady glanced at the plate in disgust. "It was perfectly cooked."

"I'll take care of it, Chef," Chuck jumped in, obviously knowing that Brady hated complaints.

Sawyer had learned that he refused to believe that either he or his staff could make a subpar entree. Before coming to work at Drake's, she hadn't known her brother was such a temperamental chef. Erica was the same way, and Sawyer understood that, considering her sister's need for control. But she'd always thought of Brady as easygoing in the kitchen, so she was surprised to fi nd him so stubborn when it came to critiques of his food. She was getting to know her family members better than she wanted to.

"Better make it al dente, Chuck," she suggested, glancing at Brady to see if he would protest. He ignored them both.

Her phone vibrated against her hip and she glanced at the display. Grimacing, she took several steps away from the chefs before she answered. "Erica, what a surprise. It's been more than an hour since the last time you checked up on me."

"Paige yells at me every time I get off the couch. What else am I supposed to do?"

"Make a list of books you want to read and I'll go to the library for you."

"I wouldn't know where to begin. Do you know how long it's been since I had time to read?"

"Come on, Erica. You can fi nd something to do besides bugging me when I'm trying to work." She paced the far end of the kitchen, stepping quickly out of the way when Jori walked into the cooler.

"Sawyer, that place is my life. I rarely have time for anything else."

"Well, now this baby is going to be your life, too. So you may as well learn now how to give up some of the control here."

* 108 *

"What's the big deal? I just want to make sure things are running smoothly."

"And you don't trust me to do the job." She paused as she heard Chuck call out from behind her that the ravioli was ready.

"I don't have time for this now. Everything's fi ne here. I'll stop by in the morning. Don't call again tonight."

Irritated, Sawyer fl ipped her phone closed and stowed it. As she spun around she nearly ran into Jori, who was emerging from the cooler carrying a carton of cream. She caught Jori's upper arms and held her just inches shy of crushing the carton between their bodies.

"Sorry," Jori murmured.

"No. I'm-sorry." Sawyer was sorry for more than just the near collision. She fought the urge to slide her hands across Jori's shoulders and up the sides of her neck. She could cradle Jori's jaw and kiss her before she even had time to react. Jori made no attempt to move away, so Sawyer held her there for a moment.

Judging by Jori's sharply indrawn breath, Sawyer wasn't the only one affected by their nearness. Even though they weren't alone, she was confi dent if she leaned forward, Jori wouldn't resist.

"Ravioli's up," Chuck repeated from behind her, fracturing the connection. Sawyer dropped her hands, stepped backward, and waited for Jori to pa.s.s.

She returned the new entree to the dissatisfi ed customer and waited patiently while he sampled it. When he nodded his head in approval, she smiled politely, then stopped his waitress and told her to comp the entire table. The young woman looked surprised but didn't argue.

As Sawyer turned away, she noticed a group of men cl.u.s.tered around the hostess stand. She quickly placed the tall man in the charcoal suit and, pleased to see him, crossed the dining room in time to hear him give his name to the hostess.

"Well, h.e.l.lo, Lieutenant. Is it Monday already?"

"Miss Drake." He took her outstretched hand, turned it over, and touched his lips to the back of it. Gesturing to the nearly full * 109 *

dining room, he said, "It looks you have things under control in your sister's absence."

"Yes. I hear you've visited her."

"I checked on her when she was in the hospital and she invited me to stop by your brother's place." He looked hesitant.

Sawyer studied him, fi nding sincerity in his kind eyes. "Good.

She's getting bored over there. She must enjoy the company."

She narrowed her eyes as guilt slid across his expression. "She asked you to report back after dinner tonight, didn't she?"

"As a matter of fact, she did." When he smiled, the warmth lit up his eyes and Sawyer could see why Erica liked him. "And I plan to tell her that while her presence is surely missed, you have everything well in hand."

"Very diplomatic."

He nodded in return before following the hostess to his table. Sawyer watched him go, contemplating her sister's interest in the lieutenant. Paige had reported the visit to her house and, she'd added with a grin, he seemed to be quite taken with Erica.

Certainly he was charming, but he exuded a solid confi dence that Sawyer guessed made Erica feel safe, especially after her last boyfriend had proved so unreliable.

"Are you coming, Jori?" Brady asked after he fi nished cleaning up for the night. He paused on his way to the back door.

She closed the lid on the bakery box she had carefully fi lled with tarts. "I'll be a bit longer."