Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Then Sterling stepped back and turned a perfectly composed smile to Mrs. Grady. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Sometimes we get a little carried away.”
Mrs. Grady’s eyes were misty, an affectionate smile on her face. “Oh, how wonderful. I think a fiancée counts as family.”
Sterling flashed the same smug smile she’d had earlier my way before we turned to follow Mrs. Grady to a door at the far end of the bank lobby. My brain was stuck on that kiss and the ring on her finger. Had she known we’d need to pretend to be engaged? Was that why she wore a diamond on her ring finger? She didn’t usually wear diamond rings at all, much less on that specific finger.
We followed Mrs. Grady up a wide, carpeted staircase with a polished oak banister. “I’m afraid I can’t personally give you access to the box,” she said. “But Mr. Webber, the bank president, can help you.”
Behind Mrs. Grady’s back, I raised an eyebrow at Sterling. That smug curl of her lips didn’t change. If she hadn’t been expecting a meeting with the bank president, it wasn’t a surprise either. I hadn’t been positive she’d get us this far. But as much as I wasn’t sure I wanted to face what was in that box, my curiosity was almost rabid.
Mrs. Grady led us down a hall to a set of solid oak double doors. Knocking twice, she waited until a voice said, “Enter,” before she swung the door open and waved us inside.
“Mr. Webber, I have Forrest Powell and his fiancée, Sterling Sawyer, to see you.” She withdrew and closed the door, leaving us with a man who looked like he was the age my father would be if he were still alive.
He stood, coming around the side of the desk, his hand extended to me. Mr. Webber, first name unknown, had a stocky build, broad-shouldered, seeming taller than he was. His iron-dark hair was threaded liberally with silver. His sharp eyes narrowed as he scanned me for a beat before his face broke out into a smile.
I wasn’t surprised to hear him say as he crossed the room, “I knew your father well. He was a good man. It’s a shame what happened.” He took my hand and gave it a vigorous shake. “I’ve been looking forward to this day. Alan always thought he’d be here with you, but instead…” He released my hand. His expression chilled as he looked at Sterling. “Sterling Sawyer?” he asked, with the raise of an eyebrow.
She held out her hand as she nodded. “Yes, I’m Sterling Sawyer. It’s good to meet you, Mr. Webber.”
“Prentice Sawyer’s daughter?” he asked, releasing her hand.
“Unfortunately,” she answered, lifting her chin, her eyes level on his. “You knew my father?”
“I did. I’m also aware of how Alan Buckley knew your father.”
With that, I understood everything. This man knew what had happened, how Prentice Sawyer had stolen my father’s business and the statue, driving my father to take his own life. To anyone who knew the truth, the idea of Alan Buckley’s son marrying a Sawyer was incomprehensible.
Before I could jump in to defend Sterling, she shook her head, her eyebrows drawn together. She could play a part, but the regret in her eyes wasn’t an act. “I only recently learned the extent of Prentice’s relationship with Forrest’s father. I’m sorry to say I wasn’t surprised to learn the full truth.” She sighed. “My father was not a good man.”
“No, he wasn’t,” Mr. Webber agreed. “So, how did this happen?” He looked between the two of us, his gaze landing on me.
I’d messed up my life enough with lies. Except for Sterling’s fake engagement story, I wasn’t going to lie to Mr. Webber. “I went to Sawyers Bend looking for revenge,” I said. “Instead, I found Sterling, and I learned that Prentice’s children are nothing like their father.”
Mr. Webber gave a gruff nod. “Can’t say I know many people who miss Prentice Sawyer, but the things I’ve heard about his son, Griffen… He seems to be the apple that fell very far from the tree.”
As well as I had come to know Tenn and Royal, I was glad to hear that the Sawyers’ reputations were changing. Sometimes, death wasn’t enough to clean the slate, but in the short year and a half since Prentice had died, Griffen had begun to show the world a different kind of Sawyer.
Stepping back, Mr. Webber gestured to the chairs opposite his desk. We followed his cue and sat, Sterling setting her navy purse on her knees, the ring on her finger bright against the dark fabric. Where had she gotten it? Did she borrow it from one of her sisters? I didn’t think so. It wasn’t a small stone, but it was plain. Boring. Not a ring I would have bought her.