12. Sawyer
Sawyer
T he crisp morning air hits me as I jump from my truck and head into my new office. I have a spring in my step that’s not usually present on a Monday morning. Taking a deep breath in, I feel like I could take on anyone and anything.
The weekend in Whispers wasn’t as bad as I was expecting. Between the baseball game and dinner with Annabelle, Saturday was busy, and then on Sunday, I buried myself in work.
Opening the office, I wonder what time the town wakes up. It’s only just eight, but in the city, I would’ve been at work for an hour at least already. I look out the front window, seeing Rochelle at the diner, and I walk to my desk, already dreaming of her coffee.
Looking around, with the new paint job now complete, it’s starting to feel like mine.
Jerry has taken most things or condensed them into the small office down the hall, which is where he’ll work from to close his remaining cases.
The furniture’s now all replaced, my branding on the window, and I can’t help but smile. It feels kind of nice.
As did Saturday night with Annabelle. I’ve been thinking about her all weekend, wondering if I should send her flowers as a thank-you for dinner. That would be my usual thing to do, since flowers are my go-to. But to send them to a woman who has fields of them seems a bit thoughtless.
I run my hand through my hair, feeling so sure about her it’s startling. I need to be in New York, I need to focus on work, I shouldn’t even be entertaining the fact that there’s a woman here who has completely knocked me off my feet. But I am.
I’m also acutely aware that she’s not like anyone I’ve met or dated before.
She isn’t going to be impressed by my bank account or my law success.
I can’t just roll up with a bunch of flowers and impress her with my nice car.
No, Annabelle is a woman of substance, and I have no idea how I can put my best foot forward with her.
Hell, she might even chop it off with her hoe if I step a foot wrong. That thought makes me smile.
I put my briefcase on my desk and walk back outside, beelining for the diner, expecting it to be empty, but it’s a hive of activity.
“Good morning, Sawyer. Good to see you,” Rochelle greets me with a big smile that I find myself reflecting.
“Morning, Rochelle. Got the coffee on?” I look around at who’s here.
I see Bob, the baseball manager and hardware store owner, talking to a guy I haven’t met yet but who’s wearing a taxi uniform.
He gives me a wave, and I offer one back.
This should feel weird. I normally don’t have time to talk with my barista in the city; hell, I barely get my own coffee, that job reserved for Wendy.
But I find the more time I spend here in Whispers, the more I’m at ease.
I’ve worked my ass off for years to get where I am, and as I think about it, I know I lost my way a little.
The Sawyer I am now is not the Sawyer I grew up being, and spending time in this quiet small town is making me realize that even more.
“Sure is. Let me grab you a cup.”
“To go, thanks,” I add quickly, and she nods to me.
I spot a young boy sitting at the end of the counter, having a small breakfast, probably close to Kevin’s age.
He’s talking with the young woman who works at the diner.
They’re clearly related; they look alike, but she seems awfully young to be a mother.
Glancing at her name badge, I see her name is Nikki, and I wonder if Kevin and the young boy are friends.
“Counselor,” a man says next to me, and I look at him. In uniform, the local sheriff is a man I haven’t met yet but probably someone I should get to know.
“Morning.” I extend my hand. “Sawyer Silvers.”
“Tony.” He smiles, and I could make some quip about a policeman in a diner, but I refrain.
“Jerry tells me you’re settling in?”
“Getting there. Starting to meet people, learn about the town.”
“Well…” He stands, his breakfast clearly all eaten.
“Don’t hesitate to stop by the station. I’d be happy to give you an overview of the legal issues we face.
We’re a small town, but don’t let that fool you.
We may not be New York, but we have our own kind of crazy out here. ” With a nod, he puts on his hat.
“Sure thing.” I make a mental note to stop by to see him at some stage.
While I don’t suspect my work in Whispers will be focused on criminal cases, I’m familiar with some of the issues, given my history of working with Tanner, Connor, and Hudson.
So I understand better than he thinks about the crazy that can be found in a small town.
As I wait for my coffee, I feel my cell vibrate, and I grab it from my pocket. Seeing my brother's name on the screen, I frown. I’ve heard from him more this past week than I have all month.
“Sutton?”
“Hey.” He sounds weary. Rochelle comes back with my coffee, and I drop some cash on the counter for her before giving her a small smile and fleeing out the door.
“Why are you up so early?” I walk back across the street, that same pep in my step.
“Some asshole sent an overnight courier to my place, and they were buzzing the gate this morning.”
I roll my lips to keep from laughing. “I thought you’d be up early, working on your tan or your six-pack,” I tease him, not feeling bad at all about having the box of soaps shipped to him overnight.
“She must be pretty special if you’re giving me a fucking box of rose-scented soaps. I’m going to smell like a fucking florist.”
I can hear him making a coffee, his machine whirling in the background.
“At least I got them to you in time for your morning shower.” I ignore his comment as I walk into my office, then to my desk and fire up my laptop.
“Yeah, well, my co-star might like them, so I’ll get her to soap up in a minute too,” he says, implying that she slept over.
“Just tell her to tag Gertie’s,” I add, feeling like I’m doing something good. Helping a small business get a leg up, helping Annabelle.
“Now you’re her marketing guy? Damn,” he teases me right back, and I scrub a hand down my face.
“I don’t think she likes me very much.”
“So she’s smart too, then.”
“Ha. Ha. Asshole.”
“I need to go. The shower and soap are waiting. You owe me.”
“Fine. Talk later.” We hang up, and I grin, knowing that the orders for soap are going to increase and hopefully put Gertie’s on the map a little more for Annabelle and Victoria.
Before I dive into my emails, I call Hudson.
“Sawyer?” Hudson says, and I sit forward, his tone sounding panicked. I wonder if I’m the only one fucking relaxed today. My mind briefly flicks to Annabelle once again.
“Bad time?” I hear voices around him, making me think he’s in the middle of something.
“I have no idea how Annabelle does it.” Now he has my interest.
“Does what?” I try to connect the dots.
“Teach these fucking kids,” he hisses to me quietly. “They’re out of control.” It’s then I hear kids giggling in the background, noise from yelling and laughing coming through the phone, and I smirk.
“Why? What's happening?” I lean back in my chair, enjoying hearing our usual unflappable doctor sounding completely stressed.
“She’s late. She’s supposed to manage the class today, and she isn’t here yet, so me and a few other parents are trying to get them all into the classroom.
It’s like herding cattle.” I laugh at the image, knowing that Annabelle would have those kids following her every word; she has that way about her.
“Where is she?”
“Car trouble.”
I frown. I saw her car on Saturday. It isn’t new, but it looked in good condition.
“Is she alright?”
“Yeah, flat tire or something. I think she’ll be here soon.” I don’t hear as much noise now, assuming he has walked somewhere quiet.
“So I just spoke to Sutton.”
“Oh yeah, how is that lucky bastard?”
“He said to say hello.”
“Hopefully. we get to see him soon. Ahhhh. She’s here now. You know, I’ve never been more relieved to see someone as I am Annabelle right now.”
“Yeah, she has that effect on people,” I mumble, not really thinking.
“Does she now?” Hudson asks curiously, and I pause.
“Well, so I’ve heard.” I try to cover up my loose tongue.
“Hmmmm. I gotta run, so you’re off the hook. Talk later.” Hudson ends the call, and I throw my cell on my desk and rub my eyes.
I try to go through emails and reply to a few before I let my thoughts get away from me.
I hardly know Annabelle, and I sure as hell shouldn’t be starting anything with a woman with two kids, on a farm on the outskirts of a town I have no permanent ties to.
But here I am, unable to focus, as she’s at the center of my mind.
While a flat tire is usually a quick fix, now that I think about it, her tires were all looking a little bald.
Knowing she’ll be stressed about it and worried about how to pay for it, a thought comes to mind, and I call Tanner.
Because looking after the townspeople is what he wants me to do, so I might as well start today.