She took the phone with her into the living room and curled up on her white sofa. “Then what?”
There was a long pause. “Charlie told me that someone else is vying for your ChefAid gig.”
“It’s Candace. Your mom found out.”
“Damn, the woman knows how to get even, doesn’t she? Where are you and are you okay?”
“I’m home. And I’m fine.” But she wasn’t fine. She was hanging on by a thread. But she had too much pride to tell him—or anyone, for that matter.Fake it till you make ithad always been her motto.
“I would’ve come with you, Gina, if you’d only told me.”
“Everything was last minute, including the chartered flight. Besides, you weren’t talking to me at the time.”
“Ah, stop with the bullshit. I went home to get some work done. Don’t turn it into something it’s not.”
She got off the couch, went outside onto the balcony, and stared out at the sea. It was nearly dark, shrouding the water in shadow. “You were angry when you left the creek. You said it yourself.”
“I was frustrated, not angry.”
“Frustrated over what? Because I don’t want to open a restaurant on the ranch?”
“No,” he said and remained silent until the quiet became awkward. “You want to know the truth? I’m falling for you and I don’t like it. Besides the fact that I wasn’t looking for a relationship, our lives don’t mesh. Not even a little.”
The words stunned her. Not the part about their lives not meshing. They didn’t. He thought she was a pampered celebrity and she’d cop to that. She wasn’t interested in changing who she was, not for a man. Not for anyone.
But he was falling for her.
She’d known he was attracted. He’d made that clear every night they slept together. She’d known he enjoyed their little game of wordplay. She’d even known that he genuinely liked her, despite his opinion that she was a spoiled brat. She’d known all of that.
But falling? As in the L word?
“What do you mean by falling?” She wanted him to clarify to make sure she wasn’t misconstruing this conversation.
“Ah, for Christ’s sake, Gina, what the fuck do you think I mean?”
Not the most poetic declaration, but her heart skipped like the flat stones Sawyer sailed across Dry Creek. Still, she was cautious. Other than her father, no one had ever loved her. Certainly not Sadie. And Sawyer? He was the finest man she’d ever known. She couldn’t bear to even hope.
“What are you planning to do about this Candace situation?” he segued, either to give her an out on responding to his pronouncement or because he didn’t want to talk about it anymore.
“My lawyer has written a letter to ChefAid, reminding them that they’re contractually obligated to me. Whatever good that’ll do.” The evening chill bit through her thin loungewear and she hugged herself before deciding to go in, shutting the doors behind her.
“The woman isn’t wasting any time capitalizing on her victimhood, is she? It gives a suspicious person license to wonder, doesn’t it?”
“What are you saying?” She grabbed a light throw blanket and wrapped it around her like a shawl and curled up on the couch again. Just hearing Sawyer’s voice went a long way to taking the sting out of the day.
“Someone set you up. Opportunity stands out as a good motive, don’t you think?”
“Are you saying Candace is the one behind the picture, the texts, the gossip? Seems like a cheating husband is a humiliating way to enhance your career.”
“In the beginning I would’ve agreed,” Sawyer said. “But I’m starting to wonder. She definitely appears to want your life in a big way. Your time slot on FoodFlicks. Replacing you at ChefAid. Either it’s payback because she believes you slept with her husband or she’s one cunning woman.”
“So you think this is all a publicity stunt to bolster Candace’s career? Wow, it seems a little out there.”
“Perhaps. Nothing wrong with considering all possibilities. When are you coming home? Or are you?” His voice trailed off, almost like he was holding his breath.
“I don’t know yet. We’re trying to decide whether to move up our meeting with ChefAid. It would help if I could prove that this whole thing with Danny is a hoax. He’s still trying to call me, by the way. Did you ever get in touch with him?”
“Nope, he’s not taking my calls. He probably knows I’m a reporter and thinks I’m using you to get a story. I’ll keep trying.”
