The Story Of Us - Teri Wilson Page 0,42

in his hands. Sawyer didn’t believe him for a minute.

Rick looked back up. “You’re going to help me out and make me look good like you did the other day?”

“You don’t need me for that.” Sawyer snagged a bottle of Bordeaux for himself and gave Rick a solid pat on the back.

His presence hadn’t made any difference whatsoever at the cooking class. But at least he could take heart in one simple truth—he wasn’t the only one whose love life was a complete and total disaster.

Chapter Twelve

The next morning, Jamie took advantage of a quiet hour at True Love to pop over to Anita’s Flowers and get a few things off of her chest.

She’d vented to Eliot the night before, but he’d dozed off mid-rant, purring up a storm. Waking him would have just been rude, so she’d bottled everything up inside until Lucy turned up for work earlier. But every time Jamie mentioned Sawyer, Lucy’s expression morphed into one of amusement, as if Jamie would be talking about Sawyer for any reason other than the proposed Ridley project. Honestly, it was like Lucy thought Jamie was spending time with him because she still had feelings for him, which was definitely not the case.

Then what was yesterday about, exactly?

Business.

Mostly, anyway.

Jamie paced up and down a row of potted orchids while Anita polished the deep emerald-hued leaves of a plant. She tried her best to ignore the knowing look on her aunt’s face, which bore a striking resemblance to the one Lucy had worn earlier. “They were just shaking hands—just Sawyer, Chuck and Chuck’s dad. Like they’re old friends.”

“Or former employer and employee,” Anita said. So not helpful.

Jamie rolled her eyes. “From an eternity ago.”

Seriously, what could they possibly have talked about all afternoon? According to the business district’s rumor mill, Sawyer had stayed at the pizzeria for hours. Someone had even seen him throwing pizza dough up in the air.

What was next? Was he planning on donning a tutu and pirouetting his way over to Olga’s Dance Studio?

“I remember every person I’ve ever employed.” Anita regarded the shiny leaf in her hand and, seemingly satisfied, moved onto the next plant in the row.

“Yeah, well. You’re good like that,” Jamie said. Then, upon further reflection, “And so is Chuck…and Chuck’s dad.” That was yet another thing she loved about the business district exactly as it was.

She shook her head, as if doing so could help her focus on the real problem at hand. “It’s Sawyer I’m mad at.”

“Mad?” Anita abandoned her plant-polishing efforts to turn around and aim a skeptical look in Jamie’s direction.

Her face went warm.

Busted.

She wasn’t necessarily angry at Sawyer. Not anymore. She felt…a lot of things, actually. Far too many to try and untangle.

“Okay, I’m frustrated. I’m not mad.” She shook her head. “He is winning people over right and left. And now I think Olga’s Dance Studio is going to back the proposal.”

Anita’s lips pursed. “Well, it’s not just Sawyer’s charm.”

Jamie paused. That didn’t sound good. “What do you mean?”

Anita held up a finger, then strode past Jamie and made her way to opposite side of the sales counter. She pulled open a drawer, retrieved a sheet of paper and slapped it on the countertop.

Oh, no. Not another one.

“Is that…?” A flier. This was one white instead of blue, but it had Ridley’s logo in the upper left-hand corner. Jamie recognized it from the paper cups at Sawyer’s coffee and hot chocolate stand.

Anita nodded. “Mm-hmm. Twenty percent increase from their last offer.”

Jamie’s head spun as she scanned the words on the page. It was official—Ridley had upped its buyout offer by twenty percent.

This changed everything. The initial offer had already been generous enough that most of the business owners Jamie spoke with had been at least tempted to accept the deal, and now Ridley had gone and sweetened the pot.

She felt like she might be sick.

“I’m not going to accept it.” Anita held up her hands.

Jamie shook her head. The effort it took to keep her chin from quivering was monumental, but she couldn’t ask her aunt to turn down such a large sum of money. She just couldn’t. “Aunt Anita.”

“No. This is my home, and this store is still my joy. Besides, I’m too young to retire just yet.” She reached out to give Jamie’s hand a reassuring pat.

As relieved as Jamie was to hear that her aunt still didn’t want to accept Ridley’s offer, she still felt sick to her stomach. “Yeah, but if you