4
Oran
“Mr. Santino! Sir!” Pausing at the call, I turned toward the sound and surprise rose my brows as a pretty woman in business casual attire came rushing down the sidewalk. “Excuse me. I apologize for bothering you. Do you have a moment to spare?”
“Depends on how that moment will be used.” Her sleek cherry-blonde hair fluttered in the breeze of cars speeding past, and I glanced down at my watch briefly. When I looked up, big greenish-hazel eyes locked on mine, and the woman nodded firmly as she straightened her thin shoulders.
“At Hansen’s on Monday, you got someone fired for abusing my sister.” Pursing my lips thinly, I nodded in confirmation, and she stuck out a fragile-looking hand with gratitude drenching her features. “Thank you. I just . . . I wanted to thank you in person for going above and beyond.”
“You’re very welcome.” Her long fingers wrapped around my palm, but I was at a bit of a loss as I cocked my head quizzically. “Did you go out of your way just to thank me for some common decency?”
“Yes, I did.” She kept shaking my hand, and I couldn’t help but laugh at how matter-of-factly she spoke. Her cheeks pinked, and she smiled as the twinkles brightened in her eyes. “Ah, I’m May. I just . . . thank you very much, Mr. Santino.”
“Call me Oran. You know, I believe I do have a few moments. Would you like to grab a coffee before you head into work, May?” The day itself seemed brighter when she smiled broadly, and May finally withdrew her palm from mine to grab her purse straps. “Wonderful.”
“Yeah, okay. You know, that job at Hansen’s, Iclearlyexplained Sarah’s mental condition to the owner, and that she’s not supposed to serve tables in the bar area. Technically, Sarah’s not supposed to serve alcohol at all because she’s only sixteen, but you know how it is. No one really cares much about the particulars.” My breath caught at that, and I frowned under furrowed brows as May inhaled deeply. “No one takes mental illness seriously. They look at Sarah and think that because they can’t see something broken, nothing is.”
“Do you mind my asking what her condition is?” We began walking, and May pulled her elbow-length hair over her shoulder to exhale a shaky breath. “You don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“She’s got autism, pretty mild. You know, mild enough that she can be a functioning human being for all intents and purposes. The thing is, Sarah’s people skills are rock bottom. I’m a regular at Hansen’s, so I talked to the manager. Nothing serious, just eight hours a week. It’s not for money— I make enough for us both.” Clenching my jaw hard, I ducked my head in thought as May combed her slender fingers through the ends of her hair. “She’s terrified of going back, and I can’t convince her otherwise. She doesn’t go to school, either. They couldn’t handle her. My parents couldn’t handle her. I canbarelymanage. Sarah does what she wants, when she wants, and if she doesn’t want to do something, she won’t.”
“What is it she likes to do?” Curiousness tainted my voice, and I could see that girl when I blinked— she refused eye contact or made too stern eye contact. Nothing so serious struck me, but our encounter was a minute,if that, and I was more concerned about getting the attention off her than putting my own on her.
“Oh, Sarahlovesbirds. That’s the obsessive part of her condition. She loves one thing and one thing only, and she’s so inquisitive about it. I encourage it, but, I mean, how do birds help her be a developed adult?” The more she spoke, the more emotion showed in her voice, and May cast me a sheepish look when I gazed down at her.She’s short, even in heels. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain about it, and everyone’s entitled to their passions . . . I just don’t want her to bethat kid.”
“And it’s just you two, yes? Do your parents live in Washington?” May nodded, her lips thinning, and she puffed softly as a delicate crease appeared between her brows. “I assume they don’t come by as often as you’d like.”
“They haven’t seen her in over four months, no. I get calls, but they stopped asking about Sarah. It’s frustrating, but I feel like trying to force a relationship will do more harm than good. Even, you know,indulgingin her hobby of birds, and the online classes she takes, I’m not entirely convinced that she’s happy. I have full guardianship of Sarah right now, which . . . I’m only twenty-three. I have a great job that I like and want to advance in, and Sarah and I are great sisters, just not much else.” We reached the hole in the wall a block from my building, and I opened the door for May as my mind churned. Sarah honestly soundedfascinating. Who the hell had a passion for birds, anyway? Gesturing May through the threshold, I followed her and wondered how those slim shoulders draped in white silk could possibly hold all that responsibility.
“So, do you think Sarah has improved since she moved in with you?” I was so unsure of how such a simple concept as saying ‘thank you’ to my face turned into a . . . a life story. Letting May in line before me, I reached to rub my jaw and cover my mouth as I frowned. The smell of coffee flooded my lungs, and May turned to me with a determined set in her features. “You know, May, I have no idea what to say to any of this. As much as I appreciate you seeking me out to thank me, and as admirable as you are, I don’t see where this is going.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened and flashed greener, and she shook her head and held up her hands in surrender. “I was just talking. I didn’t mean to make you think I wanted something from you. I mean, I did— I wanted to thank you, Mr. Santino. It’s . . . it’s just that you seem very trustworthy.”
“Right. I’m curious— where do you work? In a nice corner office, I presume?” She glanced down, and I arched a brow quizzically when she glanced up from under her thick lashes. “No? Really?”
“Not usually, no. I’m on a trip to Corporate for my boss. He’s a bit, um, irresponsible with his schedule. I actually design ships. My official title is ‘Nautical Vessel Architect’ which is weird because nautical vessels by definition are ships with sails and wood and . . . ” She trailed off, her cheeks flaming as an appreciative smile stretched my lips, and I chuffed a laugh. “So . . . yeah. That’s what I do. My team leader scheduled two meetings at the same time, so he took the one with the big boss, and I’m being sent to the sharks. Pardon the pun.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Do you not know what you’re talking or listening to? At the very least, you look the part. They’ll go easy on you in there because you’re cute.” The compliment earned me a giggle, and she tucked her hair behind her ear before the line actually started to move. Now that I thought about it, I did have a meeting in about an hour with someone about shipping, and my eyelid twitched at the revelation. “You don’t happen to have that meeting on the thirty-first floor of the building around the corner, are you?”
“Yeah, why? Are you going to be there?”Do I or don’t I?What kind of dumbass question was that? Nodding firmly, my smile widened when May’s brightened, and I checked my watch absently. “So, what’s your strategy? Are you going to try to pass the idea off as your own or admit you’re a know-nothing underling out of your depth?”
“Oh, no, it is my plan. Most of the plans he brings up are mine, but he can sell them a lot better than I can. I’m being looked at for a promotion.”
“Ah, well, allow me to congratulate you by paying for your large coffee. You’re going to need it.” May nodded, mouthing ‘thank you,’ and I turned to the barista just as the customer in front of us shuffled to the side.
