Chapter Nine
“A life is meant to be lived, not placed upon a shelf.”
~Shamus Callahan
Life took on a new pace, a sort of rapid momentum that never quite waned. Winters unfurled into springs, followed by sweltering summers, and everyone seemed to be on the right path, heading toward different goals.
Although Isadora still didn’t have the time to be a full time student, she moved around her schedule and made room in her life to take some classes here and there. She’d taken a pottery class and created some dreadful art pieces. Tap dancing, which turned out to be a humiliation she couldn’t bring herself to share with others, but a decent workout. And then she moved on to Italian, which was just challenging enough.
She promised herself if she mastered the language she’d treat herself to a long vacation on the Amalfi coast one day. Perhaps Sawyer would go with her and they could openly be a couple there.
Lucian, to no one’s surprise, did exactly as he said. As soon as the market turned in his favor, he pulled half of his investments and made an offer on their family’s country home. Their father had the good sense to turn him down, appearing to have a conscience for a split second, but when Lucian came at him with a better offer the following winter he crumbled.
Toni was too preoccupied with her own life to care that the family she hardly remembered was tearing at the seams. She seemed satisfied enough just to know they had another home to visit, one with a heated pool in a beautiful countryside, where she claimed her brother would host her sweet sixteen—which was still three years away. But according to Toni, such parties took as much time to plan as a wedding.
Her sister seemed in such a rush to age. Isadora tried to explain that nothing fun happened once you were an adult, but her sage advice fell on deaf ears.
Sawyer had become a constant in Isadora’s life. They still met on Mondays, and very rarely in between. Sometime around their two-year anniversary Isadora admitted—only to herself—that she was in love with him.
He never made any promises about their future, and as time passed Isadora’s need to know where things were leading faded. They were clearly committed to each other, and whether he labeled it or not, they were in a relationship.
Sawyer was more than her lover. He was her closest friend, her confidant, and her happiness.
By the time Lucian entered his junior year of college, he started making comments about how tedious his education was becoming. She feared he wouldn’t finish his degree, but on the same hand, she feared encouraging him to stick it out was a waste of time. Lucian did what he wanted.
There was no doubt her brother had arrived, a man bursting with ambition and wise beyond his years. She supposed certain traits were simply genetic.
It was impossible not to envy him, his confidence, his courage to demand satisfaction from every corner of the world as if it was his due. He was a distant storm that fascinated her and although he was younger, she admired him greatly. His determination to make something of himself often encouraged her to do the same.
The invitation to Vivian Callahan’s wedding came the following spring. The event was scheduled for that August and Toni was thrilled that she’d garnered a place on the guest list, claiming this was some implication that she was one of the grown-ups.
According to her sister, no ordinary dress would do. Their summer consisted of multiple shopping sprees and many disagreements.
“But I like this dress,” Toni argued one afternoon in the Neiman Marcus dressing room.
“Toni, you can’t wear that. Daddy’s going to be there and he’ll have my head if he sees you dressed like that.”
“Why?” she scoffed, clearly outraged. “I like the way I look.”
Perhaps a little too much.
For all the curves Isadora lacked, her sister certainly made up for the both of them. On the cusp of fourteen, she was built like a seventeen-year-old pinup model.
“I said no. Take it off.”
“Damn it, Isa. Why can’t I get it? You’re not the one paying for it.”
“Hey, don’t you swear at me. Either try on something else or we’re leaving with nothing.”
Her sister glared at her for a long moment, but Isadora didn’t bend. With a huff, Toni turned and marched into the dressing room, muttering under her breath.
“Everyone else gets to buy whatever the hell they want with Daddy’s money, but I don’t get a choice in anything. I hate being the baby.”
“Antoinette.”
“Fine,” she grumbled. “I’m almost sixteen you know.”
“Let’s get through fourteen and fifteen first, hmm?” Yes, they all knew she was growing up, but no one else credited teenage milestones with the significance her sister presumed.
They settled on a classy “pink” dress that exposed her shoulders, but hid superfluous cleavage.
“What about you?” Toni asked, as they searched for shoes.
“Oh, I’ll just wear one of the dresses in my closet.”
Toni rolled her eyes. “Buy something new, Isa. It’s a wedding. Your future husband might be there.”
“A wedding isn’t a sophomore mixer, Toni. It’s supposed to be about the bride and groom.”
“I’m happy for Vivian,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to miss out on a chance to dance with my future husband.”
“Lord give me strength,” Isadora muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You are aware that most of the guests will be adults? Vivian invited you as a courtesy to us. I don’t think many kids will be there.”
“You’re wrong. She invited me as a courtesy to Shamus. He promised to dance with me.”
Isadora frowned. “Toni… You know Jamie’s just a friend, right? He’s too old for you.”
“He’s only seven years older than me.”
“And you’re only thirteen. It’s illegal. I don’t want to hear anything more about it. It’s totally inappropriate.”
A twinge of hypocrisy gave her pause, but what she had with Sawyer was certainly not comparable to her thirteen-year-old sister having a crush on her brother’s twenty-year-old friend. She wanted to make sure Toni understood why her feelings were not okay.
“If a twenty-year-old came near you in that way he’d go to jail, Antoinette.”
She snorted, not measuring Isadora’s warning with any sort real concern. “So would Lucian, because you know he’d kill the guy. Trust me, Isa. I know what’s appropriate and what’s not. But I’m going to dance with Shamus at his sister’s wedding and I don’t need you making a big deal about it.”
She decided she’d have a word with Lucian about their sister’s little crush and let him make sure his friend wasn’t unintentionally encouraging her feelings in any way.
Toni talked her into buying a gown that—by the time they were on their way home—Isadora regretted purchasing. The back was cut so low the slightest draft would tickle parts of her best left hidden. But Toni, with her impetuous persistence, insisted she needed this dress.
It was deep violet, which was as good as black to Isa, and cut rather simply in the front. But the back… That was going to make her uncomfortable all night. She’d likely wind up wearing one of the plain gowns in her closet.
She mentioned the Shamus situation to Lucian, who assured her his friend was not interested in some kid . He’d even gone as far as asking Shamus, which, in turn, mortified the poor man and embarrassed all of them for even thinking such absurdities needed clarification.
In the end, Isadora was relieved, but Toni was furious when her brother teased her about her crush.
“How could you tell him? I trusted you! God, I can’t talk to you about anything!” He sister stormed off to her bedroom.
Isadora contemplated the value of friendship with her sister and hoped moments like that didn’t damage their chances of getting along in the future.
Their father would return to Folsom for the wedding, but announced he’d be staying at his hotel rather than at the family estate—something they were all grateful to hear. Knowing he’d be in attendance at the reception meant Isadora couldn’t expect a moment alone with Sawyer, so she made the most out of their time before her father returned to town.
Lying next to Sawyer in his bed, she trailed her fingers over his chest. “You know what I was thinking?”
“What?”
“I think we should take a trip to Italy. I haven’t been there since I was little and I’m getting pretty fluent at Italian. We could take a vacation, rent a vista overlooking the Mediterranean, make love with the windows wide open in the warm sea air. No one would bother us there.”
He smiled and caught her hand. “That sounds lovely. But people would notice we both went at the same time.”
“Only if we told them. You could say you’re going to Spain. Who would know?”
Her stomach pinched with familiar longing. She was growing tired of hiding their relationship, certain if people knew they’d been dating for so long they’d understand outside opinions were insignificant at this point.
“But you would tell Lucian and Toni you were going to Italy?”
She shrugged. “You could just tell Slade the truth.” Maybe starting with Slade was the first step. Then over time they could broach the subject with her family.
He sighed. “Isadora, things are peaceful. No one bothers us the way things are. And if the news got back to your father…”
Her father missed nothing and he was the last person she wanted involved in her personal life. Things had gotten very nasty between him and Lucian in the past year. She wasn’t sure if learning of his daughter’s ongoing affair with his trusted partner might push him over the edge. She certainly didn’t want any severe consequences to affect Sawyer’s job.
“It was just a thought.”
“And a nice one.” He lifted her hand and kissed the backs of her fingers. “I’m not saying no, but I don’t know if this is the right time. I promise I’ll take you one day—when the time’s right.”
Satisfied that he’d made the promise, she let her other concerns go for now. Eventually they’d find normal and all of this sneaking around would end.
Lucian had somehow acquired a private driver for the wedding. The chauffeur, not much older than herself, was named Dugan and had a very intimidating presence. But despite his gigantic height and unshakable expression, he seemed like a nice man. The limo, one from their father’s fleet, had been washed and readied for the evening.
Dugan wasn’t the only unexpected guest. Just as Isadora fastened the clasp on her earring, her bedroom door burst open.
“Oh my god, Isa, you’re never going to believe this!” Toni exploded, shutting the door at her back.
“You scared the crap out of me! What’s wrong?”
“Lucian brought a date. ”
She frowned at her sister. “So?”
“Not just a date. A girlfriend . She said she’s been dying to meet us, and her and Lucian have been seeing each other for over a month!”
Isadora’s mouth opened. “ Our brother?”
“Yes!”
Her lips slowly curved into a smile and she quickly collected her clutch. “What’s does she look like?”
“Super pretty. Blonde—not natural, but flawless. Skinny. Tall.”
Her heart raced with anticipation to meet this woman who had spent a considerable period of time with her brother. “He didn’t tell me he was in a relationship.”
The idea thrilled her. Lucian needed a steady woman in his life. Someone who could ground him and make him see there was more to life than financial advancement spurred by their vindictive father.
But the second she set eyes on his date—Monique—she knew she wasn’t the right woman for her brother. She couldn’t decide what was off about her. She was stunning to say the least, but not right for Lucian.
After only five minutes in the woman’s presence Isadora picked up on a shallowness that could make anyone unattractive. While Monique showed great interest in Lucian’s attire, cars, and assets, there was a lack of any deep interest in Lucian himself. It struck Isadora as odd that this was the woman he chose to settle in with after years of proclaiming he didn’t have time for anything serious.
The ceremony was lovely and the reception was a lavish affair. Shamus’s sister—the newly titled Dr. Vivian Sheffield—was a stunning bride. She’d certainly grown into a striking woman. The fact that she was also smart made her the whole package. Isadora hoped this Sheffield man was everything Vivian deserved.
While there was a familiar flicker of envy in watching another friend get married, Isadora harbored no resentment. It was Vivian’s time. Isadora’s time would come. Eventually she’d have her happy ending just like the rest of her friends.
They were seated adjacent from their father and Tibet’s table, which she also suspected was where Sawyer would sit. What she hadn’t anticipated was his plus one —or the fact that he’d bring a date, knowing full well she’d be in attendance.
Unfortunately, life lessons sometimes had a way of creating natural consequences that needed little translation. Painful truths were indeed excruciating.
Sawyer’s date appeared in her mid-forties. Her clothing spoke of a secure bank account and her jewelry was tasteful. None of that mattered, however, because Isadora hated her on the spot.
The moment her gaze crossed with his, Isadora started to shake. How could he humiliate her like this with no warning? This was not a benefit for some charity. It was a wedding for a mutual friend.
When Slade sat himself beside Monique at their table, Isadora casually gathered information. “Is your father dating?”
Slade’s eyes, much like Sawyer’s, danced with humor. “Hardly. You should have seen what I had to go through to convince him to bring a date tonight.”
So this was partially Slade’s doing. That helped ease a bit of her outrage. Although, if they’d just come out of the closet, no one would be trying to fix either of them up.
Very aware that she was frowning, she distracted herself by staring around the room, but her jaw wouldn’t unlock and her scowl wouldn’t relax.
Although no one else knew Sawyer had humiliated her with his date, her response to the situation was not flattering and people at the table were starting to give her questioning looks. Escaping to the bar, she ordered a glass of chardonnay and prayed it was a good year.
“You okay?” Lucian asked, surprising her at the bar and ordering a cocktail of his own.
“Fine.”
“You look like you’re going to be sick. Do you want to get some air?”
She hesitated, glancing to Sawyer’s table where his date held court with all the men. “Yes, okay.”
Lucian walked her outside and they took a path into a garden lined with stone benches. “Is it Dad? Did he say something to upset you?”
“No, I’m just bad with crowds.”
He frowned, likely wondering when that had happened. Providing a distraction, he said, “Vivian’s a beautiful bride.”
“She is. Classy. There’s always been something timeless about her.”
He nodded.
She wished Lucian would find someone like that—beautiful without realizing how much. Maybe that was what was wrong with his girlfriend, she seemed too in love with herself to form any real affection for anyone else.
“How long have you been dating Monique?”
He chuckled. “I wouldn’t call it dating.”
“What would you call it?” That was the impression the woman gave Toni.
He shrugged. “Passing time.”
“Does she know that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe you should tell her.”
“I will at the right time.”
Why were men such procrastinators in matters of the heart? Other guests drifted onto the path, commenting on the beautiful landscape and remarking about the happy couple.
He finished his cocktail. “You ready to go back inside?”
No. “Sure.”
When they returned, Monique was dancing with Slade. Isadora glanced at Lucian who appeared to take little issue with his friend and his date sharing a moment during a slow song.
They weren’t dancing like people who just met.
“She knows Slade?”
He nodded. “They’re friendly.”
Apparently so, going by the way his friend held her in his arms. She glanced back at Lucian. Didn’t he see what she was seeing? There seemed a shared intimate knowledge between the two. Very intimate.
She bit her tongue, deciding it wasn’t her business to comment. Lucian wasn’t a fool and he would realize if anything inappropriate were going on.
Toni scowled at them as they returned to the empty table. “You left me alone.”
“You weren’t alone when we left,” Lucian commented.
“Well, everyone else left me.” Toni’s glare turned to the head table.
“It’s a wedding, brat. Try not to look so miserable,” Lucian teased, nudging her shoulder.
Brothers weren’t always good at noticing subtleties, but Isadora noted the way her sister’s eyes shimmered a bit more than usual and the way her arms wrapped around her ribcage as if holding herself together. Isadora followed her gaze and immediately understood.
Shamus’s date was a beautiful bombshell. Dark hair pinned high on her head, accentuating her long neck and trim build. There was no arguing with exquisiteness.
Empathizing, she scooted her chair closer to Toni’s and whispered, “It’s sort of an unwritten rule that those in the wedding party should bring dates. I bet half the groomsmen don’t even know their guests’ middle names.”
Her sister blinked up at her and her eyes cleared, a fragile smile trembling to her lips. “Thank you, Isa.”
She smiled and patted her knee. “You’re prettier than her anyway. But he’s still too old for you.” She scanned the room. “That boy over there looks about your age. He’s cute.”
Toni followed her gaze and made a face of absolute revulsion. “Ew! Gross, Isa. That’s Brice McCleary. He’s a total dickwad.”
“Language.”
“Can’t curb the truth.”
Isa laughed and leaned close to her sister’s ear. “Then learn to whisper.”
After dinner the dance floor filled and Toni’s mood lightened. Her concern for her sister overshadowed her own turmoil. Which, in a way, helped Isa mask her own pain so not to exacerbate Toni’s.
Taking her own advice, she pasted on a smile and pretended not to care about things she had no control over at the moment. Later, in private, she would care very much.
Certain men, unfamiliar men she had no interest in knowing, occasionally glanced Isadora’s way, but she used those moments to talk with her sister, appearing too preoccupied to be disturbed.
Monique was what Toni called “an attention whore”. But Lucian hardly gave into his date’s nagging, which bordered on relentless. Slade didn’t seem to mind playing stand-in, acting as Monique’s dance partner most of the evening and Isa was starting to see why Lucian didn’t care.
“I think it’s about time I took my daughter for a spin around the dance floor.”
Isadora looked up as her father stood across from her table, his hand held out expectantly. Startled and pleasantly flattered, she smiled and placed her napkin on the vacant seat next to her—
“Annie?”
Toni tensed and Isadora suffered a sharp pang of envy, angry she still, after all these years, fell prey to his vapid attention. She should be happy to see him acknowledging Toni, who’d gone the longest without a father figure. But being overlooked still stung.
She nudged her sister. “Go on.”
Keeping her expression blank, Toni stood and took their father’s hand. As they moved into the crowd, Lucian turned to Isadora, but she ignored his assessing stare, hating to be the source of anyone’s pity.
“Do you want to dance, Isa?”
She shut her eyes and forced herself not to laugh. If Lucian danced with her after his date had begged him all night to no avail, the other woman would surely throw a fit.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
She stared at Toni and their father, hoping to see some sort of bonding, but his focus was elsewhere and Toni looked as if she were about to have a root canal.
“Care to dance?” Her body tightened as Sawyer’s voice carried over the crooning vocals of Louis Armstrong.
As she stared up at him, she casually noted her brother’s obliviousness. Still, what the hell was he doing?
“I don’t think—”
“One dance. This is one of my favorite songs.”
She glanced at his table, wondering where his date had gone. “Okay.”
She rose and he took her arm like an uncle might take his niece’s. The intimacy they usually shared in private was completely masked by his impeccable propriety.
“What are you doing?” she asked though a tight smile.
“Dancing with the most beautiful woman in the room.”
“Sawyer—”
“It’s just a dance, bella. Try to enjoy it.”
“People will—”
“People will hardly notice. Your father’s dancing with Toni and you were sitting alone— a crime . I’m merely being a gentleman.”
He took her hand and pulled her into step, leading her gracefully across the floor. It was the first time they ever danced together, the first time they ever did anything remotely intimate in front of others, yet it wasn’t intimate at all. It was hiding in plain sight and she hated it.
Her frustration from earlier returned and despite knowing she should wait until they were alone to discuss his actions, she couldn’t help herself. “Who’s your date?”
He grimaced. “A colleague. She’s on the board at the shelter with me.”
“She’s pretty.”
“Do you think?”
“I do. What’s her name?” Her voice pitched with blasé inflection, fully patronizing him.
“Paula. Where’s your date?”
“Slight miscommunication.”
“Bella, you know we couldn’t be ourselves here. Your father’s sharing my table.”
That point was made clear the moment he held her arm like a valet driver would assist a stranger. “I don’t want to talk about it. The least you could have done was told me you were bringing a guest.”
He waited a moment, then whispered, “You’re right. I’m sorry. Slade insisted I bring someone and I assumed you’d do the same.”
“Why would I do that, Sawyer?”
He frowned at her like she was speaking gibberish. “Isadora, I’m always encouraging you to keep your options open.”
How open could they be when they’d been in a monogamous relationship for years?
“I’m not discussing this here. I didn’t bring a date, because I didn’t want to. End of story. But in the future, a little advance notice on your end would be nice.” But she couldn’t let it go. “So much for exclusivity.”
“She’s just a friend, bella. I told you there would be situations when social conduct dictates how I attend certain functions.”
“Fundraisers and things that raise money for causes based on head counts. This is a wedding.”
“I already apologized. I can’t change anything now.”
“Then let’s drop it,” she snapped, regretting she’d brought it up at all.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
The song played and he led her easily with the tempo. “You really are the most beautiful woman here tonight. The bride likely hates you.”
That got a chuckle out of her. “She does not. Vivian’s my friend.”
“Sometimes friends hate each other. Jealousy can do nasty things to a person.”
“Are you suggesting I’m jealous?”
“No, I know you’re smarter than that. You wouldn’t waste jealousy on a meaningless association. You know where my interests lie.”
She hated that she needed to hear that, but his assurance eased some of her tension. “We could sneak away for a moment.”
“Not here.”
His quick rejection struck her with the preciseness of a bayonet.
He studied her for a long moment as they glided beside other dancers. “You’re disappointed, but I think you know better. Everyone knows us here. We would get caught.”
Oh, the horror.
He sighed. “I’d understand if you danced with other men.”
“I said, we’re not having that discussion here.” Her jaw locked and she blinked rapidly.
“I’m not the only man watching you tonight. Look around. You could have your choice of any bachelor in the room.”
“I’ve made my choice.”
“Make another. At least dance with someone.”
“Sawyer—”
“Please,” he whispered. “I deserve it.”
Her vision blurred and she tried to hide the rush of tears prickling her eyes. A dance was all she was able to get from him tonight, so dancing apparently meant a lot more to her than it meant to him. “You’re ruining this song.”
“You’ve spent the entire evening talking to Toni and using her as a buffer every time men approach your table. I’ve been watching you. What’s the harm in talking to other people?”
The song ended and a much faster one began. He released her hand and she glared at him. Surrounded by strangers, there was no proper way to say all she wanted to say without making a scene.
She loved him, and she truly believed he loved her on some level, too. Yet here he was, trying to pawn her off on the other male guests.
Maybe he was trying to ease his own guilt. It made no difference. His persistence and pretended indifference infuriated her, insulted her on so many levels.
Dancers crowded around them, laughing and smiling while her heart trembled in her chest. “What do you want from me, Sawyer?”
“I worry you’ve made this so much more—”
“ We made it more,” she snapped, refusing to accept that he couldn’t take accountability for his part.
How could he say such things here, in public, where she couldn’t react? Why now? Because she didn’t bring some meaningless date with her? What would that prove? This was more than his date. There was something else going on, a distance she hadn’t felt a few days ago.
Her jaw quivered. “Are you breaking up with me?” At a wedding?
“Our relationship isn’t like that. You’ve always been free to do as you please. I want you to explore your options.”
“I’m not some caged creature and I don’t need permission to socialize. Maybe I’m enjoying my sister’s company. Stop trying to change things.”
“Because she’s safe and familiar, just like I’m familiar. Every safety net has holes, bella. You’re letting opportunities slip through the cracks, because you’re too afraid to step outside of your comfort zone.”
His expression was so casual, as if they were only two distant acquaintances playing catch up at a wedding, but his words… His words sliced through her until she was shuddering inside and struggling to remain still.
“Why are you saying this now? Here?”
“Because you’ve completely closed yourself off to everyone. And seeing you like that, when I know everything you have to offer… It’s infuriating. Especially when I feel partially responsible.”
“So this is about your guilt,” she snapped.
“No, it’s about you using everyone around you as an excuse. It’s Toni. It’s Lucian. It’s your father’s absence. I refuse to be one more excuse for why you aren’t living.”
She. Was. Shaking.
Her hands balled into fists, the urge to slap him making her dizzy. “Are you finished?”
“Yes, we should probably return to our tables—”
“Just a minute,” she caught his arm. “Despite your wisdom, there are some things I know that you don’t. For instance, I know I’m more than a Monday night booty call to you. I know you have feelings for me. But I also know you’ll never admit them. You’re so worried I’m not living. Well, I am!
“I’ve felt more alive in the past three years than I have in my entire life. There are two people in this relationship—and it is a relationship—so you don’t get to make decisions without giving me a say. I don’t tell you how to live, so don’t assume you have any right to decide for me.”
His expression was blank as he stared at her. Voice level, he said, “You’re making a scene. People are watching us.”
Was he even listening? Looking up at him, knowing another song was about to end and they needed to get off the dance floor before people really got suspicious, she drew in a deep breath.
“I love you, Sawyer. I’m tired of lying. If we have to hide what we have, that’s one thing, but I’m not going to hide my feelings from you . What’s the point?”
He looked down, away from her face and shut his eyes, slowly shaking his head. Of all the responses she expected, she wasn’t prepared to see his obvious regret. “We don’t have the time it takes to have this discussion here.”
Unbelievable. All of that and he still didn’t get it. “You see, Sawyer, to most couples it doesn’t require a lengthy discussion. They’re just three simple words.”
His gaze narrowed as he leaned closer. “Those words are anything but simple! If you knew what real love was you’d know those words are the most complicated in the entire English language.”
She drew back as if he’d slapped her. If you knew what real love was…
Her skin prickled as a chill chased down her limbs. Her breathing labored as she fought to keep her composure. A lifetime of lessons in decorum trembled as she lost sight of proper etiquette and lost control to her emotions.
“Fuck you, Sawyer!” She spun away from him and shoved her way through the throng of dancers.
Stalking past the tables of smiling guests she bee-lined right to the bar, her body shaking so intensely it was difficult to stand in her heels.
“May I have a shot please?”
The bartender looked at her expectantly. “A shot of…?”
“A fucking shot! Anything! Vodka. Tequila. Whatever’s closest!”