26. Sawyer
Sawyer
I sit at my desk, looking over the files for what feels like the hundredth time.
The criminal case that my firm is currently working on is an absolute shit show.
We’ve had early starts and late nights, and I’ve had to make two statements to the press.
Our client had been hiding things from us, which put us in a terrible position, one I wasn’t prepared to stay in for fear it would completely tarnish my firm.
So I made the decision to end our representation, unfortunately leaving him scrambling to find new lawyers, which had the whole thing playing out in the press.
It’s only been a few days, and I’m itching to get out of here.
My bed in my penthouse is hard and cold and empty.
My dinners have been late-night takeout, making me feel bloated and sick, and nothing like the home-cooked goodness that I’ve been enjoying.
And Annabelle, I think of her every morning when I wake and every night when I go to sleep, and probably every hour in between.
Not sure how it happened, but it’s true what I told her before I left. I would rather be with her and in Whispers than here dealing with work, and that scares me to death.
I’ve been hustling in high-profile business law for almost my entire adulthood.
It’s what drove me in my youth, the need to get a law degree so I could help my mom, not only with money from my job, but legal expertise, because of the constant roadblocks she came across as a struggling single parent. I wanted better for her, better for us.
Over the years, my career turned into my lifeline.
I wanted the biggest and best business clients, I wanted to manage multimillion-dollar deals, and I’ve succeeded.
I have everything I’ve always strived for.
But every night, I sleep alone. For years, I loved it.
The silence was golden after a stressful day at work.
But now, after spending time with Annabelle and the boys, experiencing the craziness of their house and dinners at their table, the calm comforts of relaxing at the end of a long day with someone by my side, the appeal of a life outside of work is growing.
As is my need to find out what’s happening with her.
Just the thought of her being hurt is too much to bear. The scar from the gash on her forehead still makes my shoulders tense, knowing she isn’t telling me everything. But I see it in her eyes, at times when she doesn't know I’m watching her.
My eyes flick over to the three bags on my desk.
The one thing I’ve managed to do already is get to the Mets team store.
After an owners meeting I had yesterday with the Mets business team, I grabbed gloves, mitts, tops, balls, jackets, caps—you name it, I bought it.
I guessed on both the kids’ sizes and Annabelle’s, hoping it all fits.
I even got a sports bag and drink bottle for Kevin for his games.
Next week, he’ll be the best dressed kid there.
I see a media alert come though on my screen, and I quickly read it. Sutton had a vehicle incident last night. Photos of his car, a pedestrian, none of it looks good. Feeling uneasy, I grab my cell to call him.
It rings with no answer, so I shoot him a text.
Just saw the news, what’s going on? Are you okay?
I’m in a meeting so can’t talk, but shit hit the fan big-time last night.
My brow furrows, not liking this.
What’s going on? What do you need?
I ask, not just as his lawyer, but also as a brother. I’m ready to fire up the jet and go to him, if that’s what's needed.
I had some fans push their way into a restaurant where I was eating and one jumped in front of my car as I left. He’s okay, but it’s a fucking nightmare.
I just need a break. Bad things keep happening, and fans are out of control. Media follows me everywhere, even camping outside my home.
I’m already two steps ahead of him.
Come to Whispers for a while.
They’ll find me; they’ll track the jet.
I balk. What the actual fuck is wrong with people? I think about it, knowing I can’t send him my jet, because they will likely track that too.
I’ll send you Tanner’s.
I offer it up quickly, knowing Tanner will help if I need it.
It’ll have to be at night because they’ll follow me. The paps are vultures. They seem to know exactly where I am at all times. The media have blown up the story about the girl in my bed. Apparently she was underage and they’re making up all sorts of lies.
“Fuck,” I murmur, clicking on the story again, looking through image after image. Sutton in different outfits and at different places, the latest ones all with a full media pack swarming him as he tries to walk down the street.
I’ll have Tanner’s jet at the airport for you this week and meet you in Whispers.
Thanks, Sawyer. I knew you would know what to do.
I hold my cell in my hand, looking at my laptop screen and feeling protective. By the looks of things, my brother has completely taken over the internet. He’s on the front page of every gossip site, every Hollywood forum and magazine. I blow out a breath. It’ll be good to see him.
Scrolling through my contacts, I press Tanner's name, wanting to get this all sorted.
“Sawyer, where are you?” he asks, and I roll my eyes.
“New York,” I tell him, even though he already knows.
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? I have meetings with other clients. I had that shit show of a case to deal with.”
“Yeah, how’s that going for you?” Tanner’s tone is sarcastic, already aware it was a fucking disaster.
“In our defense, when we took him on, all evidence indicated he was innocent.”
“Innocent until proven guilty.”
“Well, hopefully we got out of it soon enough. Although the media are having a field day with it.” I look back at the newspapers on my desk, seeing the legal pages full of stories about us removing ourselves from the case and basically indicating that the client we were representing is guilty without doubt.
“You need to put down roots. Here in Whispers. Get out of all that criminal side of things. You’re so much better at business law anyway,” Tanner pushes, and I rub my eyes, feeling a headache coming on.
“You know I’m not a country boy, Tanner.
” My words have almost no meaning anymore.
I don’t believe them, and neither does he.
But I’m scared to admit it out loud. My life for years has been this office, this business.
Leaving it all for a small country town and a woman I barely know sounds crazy.
But my feelings are hard to deny, and every minute I think of her, I fall a little more.
The pull toward her takes me away from all I’ve ever known, from the security of what I’ve built.
“I don’t know about that. I’ve noticed quite a change…”
“What do you mean?” I ask him.
“I mean, you’ve changed. For the better. You’re no longer as rushed, you seem to enjoy life a little more, and while I know Whispers is special, I have a feeling it’s because of Annabelle.”
I inhale a deep breath. I’m not prepared to tell Tanner anything about my feelings before I tell Annabelle directly, so I stay the course.
“She’s great. Whispers too. But I’m also needed in the city. You know that.” The words taste bitter.
“Yeah, I know. Anyway, we have a situation.”
I nearly groan. This seems to be the week that keeps on giving.
“What situation?”
“Bob wants to sell off some of his land. The fields closest to Annabelle. He needs legal advice on what to sell and the documentation drawn up.” I go to say something, but he continues.
“Peter is looking at expanding his taxi business from one car to two. He needs help with the legal paperwork on hiring staff, as well as the business registration information changes.”
“Need I remind you, I’m a high-profile New York lawyer. I don't need to be looking into land titles and basic business expansion contracts.” I eye the certificates on my walls, the ones I worked my ass off to get me where I am today.
“Yeah, but aren't you sick of it?”
I heave an exasperated sigh. “I grew up in the city, Tanner. I’m not built the same as you.
” It’s the truth. I can’t work the land or live in complete isolation.
Shit, I still wear a suit every day. I look so out of place, not only in Whispers but with Annabelle.
I wonder briefly if I should buy some shirts and jeans, maybe some more boots.
I rub my face again, feeling like a moron, continually perplexed by my current situation.
“No truer words have been spoken,” he mumbles, giving me no assurance whatsoever.
“Anyway, just be back by Thursday. We have the Van Cleef team coming. They’re checking out the distillery and Connor is chatting with them about extended distribution.”
I stretch my neck, willing the tightness to dissipate.
“You couldn’t start with that?” I stand, needing to move.
The past few weeks, I’ve been quietly working on trying to understand the Grant Holdings business.
There’s opportunity there, so if we can keep Van Cleef to domestic partnerships, we can build a global partnership with Grant Holdings.
It’s a juggle, as we don’t want to piss anyone off, but legally it’s doable.
“Why isn’t that meeting happening here in New York? ”
Most of our dealings of this nature happen here, which is why working for Tanner all these years has been fine. My trips to Whispers haven’t needed to be too regular.
“Because Valerie wanted to come to Whispers because she knows how amazing it is, so she and AJ are flying in and staying at Marie’s Place for a few nights for a break after our meeting. Now make sure your ass is here so you’re prepared. It’s a big deal. Lots of dollars on the table.”
I nod, not that he can see me. “I’m always prepared.”
“True, that’s why I hired you. I always said you’re the best, and I mean it.”
“On that note… I need a favor.”
“What do you need?” he asks.
“Your jet,” I tell him.
“You've got your own, why do you need mine?”
“Sutton needs a late-night jet to bring him to Whispers. Things are getting out of hand for him over in LA, so he’s gotta lie low and hide out for a while. They will track his jet and mine.”
“Hmmmm, okay. Victoria has to go over to LA with Griffin and quote a job. Maybe she can take the jet over and they can fly back with Sutton. She’ll take some photos for her socials while she’s there, giving the media no reason to suspect we’re picking up Sutton for you.
” Tanner comes up with the plan, obviously thinking as he speaks.
With that, I breathe a little easier. “Sounds perfect. Thank you. See you later in the week.”
“See you then.”
We end the call, and I look at my watch, my headache now coming on stronger.
This is much harder than I originally thought.
Each time I’m in the city, the phone calls bring me right back to Whispers.
Each time I’m in Whispers, the work calls me right back to the city.
But regardless of where I’m located, Annabelle is always on my mind.
She’s becoming my North Star, and where she is, is where I want to be.
I rub my eyes for what feels like the hundredth time today. I can’t be in two places at once; it’s already grinding my gears. The talk with Jerry comes back to me. How he gave up his firm in the city for life in Whispers, and I scoff at myself, not believing I’m even entertaining such a thing.
With my cell in my hand, I pull up our text exchange.
Coming back on Thursday. Can I see you when I land?
I shoot the text off before I can think about how desperate I sound, yet smile when I see the bubbles dance immediately.
Thursday night is casserole night.
I miss you.
I miss you too.
I swallow, letting the warmth her words provide me to sink into my bones. She makes me feel that no matter what happens, everything is alright. I think about heading home early tonight to start packing, and I frown, realizing that I never unpacked.
My suitcases are all still full. I’m treating my penthouse more and more like a hotel that I’m visiting, rather than the home I’ve had for years.
I guess it’s true what they say… Home is where the heart is.