Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 94585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
I wanted Daisy. I couldn't stand the idea someone else had gotten there first, had claimed her before I even met her.
If the field was clear, it was time to make plans.
“Any advice?”
Hope shook her head slowly. “Don't give up. Don't push too hard, but don't give up.”
“Thanks, Hope.”
She smiled and took another spoonful of soup before setting the spoon down with a clink. She rose, a little unsteady on her feet. Griffen shot up beside her, reaching out to wind his arm around her waist, steadying her.
“I'm sorry. I'm okay. I'm not going to get sick,” she said for Griffen's benefit, “but I need to go lay down. I'm sorry. My list is on the desk.”
“I'll walk you up,” Griffen said, already steering her to the door.
“You don't need to do that, I can get myself upstairs.”
“Shut it, Buttercup.” Griffen looked over his shoulder at me. “I'll be back.”
“Take your time.”
When they were gone, I dug into the roast beef sandwich and soup, pulling Hope's list in front of me to get a jump on the afternoon's agenda.
For most of my life, Sawyer Enterprises had been made up of the businesses in Sawyers Bend and various larger concerns, including a logging company, several quarries, furniture manufacturing, and commercial real estate all over the Southeast.
Over the years, Ford and Prentice had sold off the quarries and the logging along with the furniture manufacturing, choosing instead to invest in a diverse array of businesses across the country.
For the most part, Brax oversaw the company's real estate investments. Tenn and I handled The Inn at Sawyers Bend, Avery the brewery, Quinn her guide business. Prentice and Ford had focused on managing the company's assorted investments. With Prentice dead and Ford in jail, Griffen and Hope had spent the last six weeks getting up to speed. Now it was my turn. I couldn’t wait.
Sawyer Enterprises offered an array of continually shifting challenges. So did The Inn, and I loved it there, but this was on a bigger scope, going beyond the hospitality industry to everything from tech to emerging resources to manufacturing. It was fascinating, and I was grateful Griffen had so easily agreed to let me join him.
I was ready when Griffen came back.
“She okay?” I asked.
He sank into his chair looking a little green himself. “Her doctor swears this is completely normal. If that's true I have no fucking clue how women do it. You have any idea how many times she's puked today?”
I shook my head. I didn't know, and I didn't want to.
“Too many, man. Too fucking many.” Griffen sighed and picked up his sandwich. “Hopefully, she'll sleep most of the afternoon and wake up starving for dinner. Did you take a look at her list?”
“I did. Do you want me to cover The Inn business while you eat?” Griffen nodded and I picked up my own list.
Before I could get started, our younger sister Sterling strolled in, throwing herself into the chair beside me. “I figured you two would rate better than soup and sandwiches. I hate to agree with Finn, but the new chef sucks.”
“You're welcome to take on the job if you think you can do better,” Griffen said, the corner of his mouth curled up in a half-smile. I expected him to deliver a set-down, but Sterling and Griffen seemed to have reached a semi-affectionate truce.
The youngest of the Sawyers, Sterling had a raw deal from the start. By the time she started school, her mother was dead, Prentice’s final wife, Darcy, had also died, and Prentice decided he was done with parenting. Not that he’d done much of that in the first place.
Sterling was mostly left to run wild. Miss Martha had done her best, but she’d had a house to run and the rest of us to distract her. Sterling had no one. She'd made it through high school mostly because the boarding school where all the Sawyers went was too afraid of losing Prentice's generous donations to kick her out. She'd been thrown out of three colleges before she managed to graduate and had spent her time since then drinking and spiraling out of control.
Griffen had taken her in hand when he moved into Heartstone Manor, and since then, she'd been a lot better. I hadn't seen her drunk in over a month. That was saying a lot for Sterling.
I had a disorienting moment of déjà vu when she looked at me—her golden hair, blue eyes, and perfect bone structure so like our cousin Bryce’s—and said, “There isn't any money in my bank account.”
“That's unfortunate,” Griffen said mildly. “What are you going to do?”
Sterling stared at him, nonplussed. “I'm going to ask you to put money in it. Obviously.”
“You can ask all day, but it's not going to happen.” Griffen set down his pen, his eyes on her patient. Gentle.