Chapter Thirty-Seven

Sawyer glanced out the taxi window as New York City passed by in a blur. He’d left the SUV with Alex to use, while he beat feet out of town at the earliest possible time. He couldn’t get away fast enough. Alex had volunteered to drive him and he should’ve taken him up on the offer. Instead, he was headed to an Upper East Side address he had no desire to visit.

That wasn’t completely true. He did want to see Celia, his mother’s personal assistant. Celia Hargrove had worked for his mother for over thirty years. Why a woman who’d never held a job in her life and her days were filled with shopping and volunteering for any committee that would have her needed an assistant was beyond him. When he was growing up, it was so that she didn’t have to sully her hands raising a rambunctious little boy. Celia had been more of a mother to him than Colleen Louise Sawyer Oldham.

He wondered what the odds were that his parents had flown out of town after the gala last weekend. Maybe they were staying at the beach house in the Hamptons, or the chateau in Aspen, maybe their flat in London. One way to find out. He dialed a number on his cell. When the ringing stopped and a voice answered, he knew lady luck had once again turned her back on him.

“Hello?”

“Celia, it’s Sawyer.”

“Sawyer! Oh, I’m so glad you called. Your mother said you were in town.”

He felt bad for not having notified her of his trip, but it’d been last minute. Plus, he knew she’d want him to visit and that meant seeing his parents. Not something he planned on doing.

“I’ve been watching the news and worried for you,” she said. “I’m glad it’s over.” He rubbed a hand across his forehead, wishing he’d resisted calling. He knew what was coming next. “You are stopping by to visit, aren’t you?”

Sawyer sighed and checked his watch. He could head there now and then his commitment would be over. “I have a few minutes before my flight.”

“Oh, Sawyer, I know your mother will be happy to see you again. Me, too. I’ll go let her know you’re on your way.”

Sawyer highly doubted that. It wasn’t only his father who’d been pissed when he decided to join the FBI, his mother had been, too, although she eventually accepted his decision.

He disconnected and brooded all the way to Fifth Avenue. He grabbed his bags, paid the cabbie and stood on the sidewalk in front of the high rise. He’d faced down serial killers, he could handle one middle-aged debutante. The only reason he talked himself into stopping by was to see Celia. Plus, he knew his workaholic father would be at his luxury offices on Wall Street so he didn’t have to worry about any uncomfortable confrontations.

He left his bags with the concierge and headed for the private elevator to the penthouse. The doors opened and Celia was waiting inside for him. “Sawyer!”

His heart squeezed. Though they spoke weekly, he hadn’t seen her in person in a few months. She came to visit him in the hospital when he’d been shot. His parents hadn’t. “Hi, Celia.” She wrapped him in a hug and her scent enveloped him. It reminded him of his childhood…before everything went to hell. She’d held him when he had nightmares and she’d tended to his many boo-boos.

She sighed and didn’t seem to want to let him go anytime in the near future. He maneuvered them inside and hit the button for the top floor. He wanted to get this reunion with his mother over with and get home as soon as possible.

“How are you? Are you recovered?”

“One hundred percent. How are you doing?” He was a little worried about the shadows under her eyes. When he hugged her, she felt so delicate.

“I’m just fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“You know I will anyway. Have you given any more thought to my proposal?” When she’d been holding vigil beside his hospital bed, he’d confided in her about his plans to resign from the Bureau and apply for a job with COBRA Securities. He’d asked her to retire and move to Indiana with him. She was getting older and she didn’t need to be attending to the whims of a spoiled socialite anymore. He had money and he wanted to take care of her.

“I can’t leave your mother. Especially now.”

Before he could ask her what “especially now” meant, the doors opened into the foyer of his parents’ luxury apartment and his mother stood waiting for him. Celia released him and he moved forward like a prisoner headed to the gallows. She airbrushed kisses to both of his cheeks, the scent of her 24 Faubourg Hermes perfume gagging him. She placed her hands against his cheeks in a typical motherly gesture that was atypical for her.

“Sawyer, darling. It’s good to see you again. I hoped to spend more time with you at the gala but every time I looked, I couldn’t find you.”

That’s because he actively avoided her. “I’m sorry, Mother. I was on the job.”

“I’ve seen the news where you caught the Vigilante. I’m proud of you, dear.”

Huh. He’d never heard those words from her. “Thanks.”

“When Celia told me you were on your way over, I called your father. He has meetings all morning and couldn’t get away.” Meetings. Sure. “Can you stay for dinner or maybe longer? Your room is just as you left it.”

Was that a hopeful tone he heard? Surely not. And never in a million years would he stay here. He was a little surprised she offered. He looked at her face, shocked to see her eyes shiny with unshed tears. It threw him for a loop. “I uh, I’m sorry, Mother, I have to catch a flight soon. I need to take off.”

“I’ve missed you, Sawyer.” This time, she pulled him in for a hug. He was struck numb, unable to move. He forced his arms up to pat her back awkwardly. This was uncharted territory for him. He could count on one hand the number of times his mother hugged him.

She loosened her hold and he took advantage, stepping back. “You look well, Mother.” For as long as he could remember, he’d called her mother instead of mom.

“I’m good. Your father has me worried. His blood pressure is up and he refuses to slow down. He’s already had one…incident.”

So this must have been what Celia meant when she said she couldn’t leave right now. “What kind of incident?” To her it could mean getting shot, having a stroke or getting run over by a rogue cab in Times Square.

“He was lightheaded and started having chest pains. The doctors said he had a mild heart attack. He was supposed to change his diet and not work so hard, but he doesn’t listen. He forbade me or Celia from telling you, but maybe you could talk to him?”

He gaped at the hopeful look on his mother’s face. What did she think he could do? His father didn’t even speak to him. Pretty damn doubtful he’d take any advice he had to offer. “Mother, you know he wouldn’t listen to anything I have to say. He doesn’t even speak to me.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “You know how stubborn your father can be, but you’re his only child. Can’t you try to mend the rift?”

Sawyer rubbed at the headache that was brewing behind his eyes. He couldn’t deal with this. He’d accepted his father’s indifference years ago. He was not putting himself on the line for the old man again. “I’m sorry, Mother. I have to go.” He airbrushed another kiss against her cheek and turned to leave.

“Sawyer?”

He stopped and turned to her. “Yes, Mother?”

“I love you.” Now he was feeling light headed and his chest was aching. Was he having a mild heart attack, too? He could not recall one time in his life when either of his parents told him they loved him. Even after he’d been kidnapped and rescued.

“Love you, too, Mother.” He spun around and marched out of the penthouse before he did something truly embarrassing like rolling into a ball on the floor and bawling like a baby.

Celia hugged him. “It was so good to see you.” When he pulled back, she had tears in her eyes, too. He suddenly couldn’t breathe. He had to get out of here.

“It was good to see you, too. I’ll call you when I get home.” He jumped on the elevator and restrained himself from repeatedly pounding on the down button to force it to descend faster. When the doors opened, he retrieved his luggage from the concierge, pushed outside and hailed a cab. He’d already spent more time than he wanted in New York. It was time to head home to Indiana.