“Wait.” Justin rested his hand on her shoulder even as she pulled open the door. “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t respond but stood facing the door, hiding her eyes from his scrutiny lest he see what she was feeling.
“Will it always be this way between us?” he finally asked.
“I don’t know,” Sarah replied.
With a sigh, he released her.
Sarah walked out the door, deciding that she was walking out of his life for the final time. Turning down the street, she headed to where she hoped she’d be able to catch the last bus for the night, wondering why she’d ever thought she could work for the man her sister had married.
Justin leaned his head against the closed door and sighed again. He was tired. The meeting had been a lot more complicated than he’d expected. What was supposed to be a simple merger had turned into more negotiations. Years ago he wouldn’t have allowed it, but because he’d seen these men making a sincere effort to protect their employees, he’d spent the extra two hours negotiating. Then they’d had to have a new contract typed and finally signed. The men had fortunately found seats on a later flight It was almost eleven o’clock and he’d been worried about his daughter…and he’d treated Sarah badly.
Pushing away from the door, he turned, then went through the house, flipping off lights and checking windows. There had been no reason for him to say such cruel things to her. Indeed, she’d been trying to bury the hatchet. That was the longest they’d gone without snipping at each other. And then he’d had to ruin it. She was Amy’s sister—the only link he and Mickie had to Amy. The least he could have done was hold his tongue. It was just that when he’d opened the door and seen her rising from the couch, the book of scenic landscapes sliding from her lap, he’d felt as though someone had punched him in the gut. He’d never noticed that Sarah was a very beautiful woman, despite her beat-up jeans and sweater. He’d always pictured her as tough and aggressive. Her soft golden hair, which she’d always worn up, had floated about her face tonight, giving her the look of innocence wronged. But he’d not wronged her. And she wasn’t innocent or soft. He knew her real personality. She had tried to take his daughter away. He’d been right to fight her to keep his child. And he wouldn’t forget the pain that fight had caused anytime soon, no matter how innocent or beautiful she looked.
He hadn’t felt a spark of interest in a woman since Amy’s death. How could that spark be ignited by the sister who had caused them both so much grief? In anger at his own reaction to her, he’d struck out.
He trudged up the stairs. After checking on Mickie to make sure she was covered, he undressed.
Because of his actions, Mickie would probably never see Sarah again. She’d be stuck with a baby-sitter all day—
Baby-sitter!
Justin didn’t have a baby-sitter for his daughter, tomorrow or anytime. He collapsed on the side of the bed and dropped his head into his hands. How could he have forgotten?
Easy. Big blue eyes and a heart-stopping smile had clouded his thinking.
Well, he couldn’t let them distract him now. He had to find someone for tomorrow. Justin lifted his head. Maybe this was a way to prove to Sarah that he wanted to accept her apology and make amends. He could ask her to baby-sit this weekend, since she probably didn’t work on weekends, and Mickie could get to know her. Of course his day would be short on Saturday. He only had to finish up the paperwork related to tonight’s merger and make sure everything was running smoothly. Then he could invite Sarah over for dinner on Sunday as a gesture of thanks. That should smooth over the mistake he’d made tonight.
He reached into the drawer by his bed and pulled out the phone book. After finding her number, he dialed it.
He listened as the call connected.
On the third ring, instead of an answering machine picking up, he heard a message saying the phone was disconnected.
Frowning, he put the receiver down. Had she moved lately? He called Information and the operator told him she had no listing under Sarah’s name.
Thinking back, he remembered Bill, from church, mentioning he’d talked to Sarah only last week. He hadn’t said where he’d seen her or what they’d talked about. His friends were that way. If they met up with Sarah they only informed him that they’d seen her. Few of his friends felt the need to gossip and dredge up past pains. And, he thought, a few were still friends with Sarah, though none ever really talked about her when he was around.
Bill was the answer. If it had been only last week since he’d talked to her he would know where she was now living. Despite the late hour, Justin picked up the phone and dialed Bill’s number. On the second ring, Bill answered it. Justin smiled. Bill had a thing for computers and was usually up until one or two in the morning playing around with some new software or game.
“Hey, Bill,” he said. “Uh, sorry to call so late.”
“Justin? No problem. I’m up. What’s going on?”
“I just tried to get hold of Sarah. She stopped by earlier today and I need to talk to her. I tried the phone number I have for her, but the service has been disconnected. I figured you could tell me where she moved.”
Silence followed.
Justin frowned.
Finally, Bill spoke, but it wasn’t with the answer Justin had wanted.
“You say you talked to her today?”
“Yeah. She, uh, watched Mickie for me. I was in a bind—”
“You let her baby-sit your daughter?”
Why was Bill sounding so shocked? “Yeah. She came by to visit. My baby-sitter had an emergency and Mickie seemed taken with Sarah. Look,” Justin said, becoming impatient, “do you know where she moved? I’d like to get hold of her.” Suddenly, it dawned on Justin what had been bothering him. Her number had not been changed but disconnected. Why? Wait a minute. She had been engaged—“Or what her new last name is,” he added, drawing the conclusion that she must now be married and that was why she no longer had a phone number of her own. “I’d like to…thank her,” he finished, thinking that if she was married, then she wouldn’t want to baby-sit on a weekend. He couldn’t believe she had stayed tonight with a husband waiting for her at home. At least her marriage explained her decreased anger and bitterness since the last time they’d seen each other.
“Sarah didn’t tell you?”
Confused, Justin wrinkled his brow. “Tell me what? That she had married? No, but I know she was engaged—”
“Was is the operative word there, buddy. You’d better sit down.”
Justin stood, instead. “Look, Bill, obviously you know something I don’t. Why don’t you try telling me.”
“I don’t know all the particulars. Just that she’s no longer engaged.”
“Is that all?”
“No. As a matter of fact, it’s not. She no longer works for her fiancé’s family, either, as of a very short time ago. Nor does she live in her old apartment.”
Justin sighed impatiently. “I know the latter—that’s why I called you. Do you know where she lives?”
“Yes.”
Restlessly, Justin ran a hand through his hair. Why was Bill acting as if Sarah’s address and phone number were a national secret? Okay, so Bill felt sorry for Sarah. She had broken off with her fiancé and quit her job. Justin was sorry for her, too, but that might just work out to his best. Maybe he could hire Sarah for a week or two until she found a better job…unless she already had one. But first he had to locate her. This was all too much to take in at once. Just what did he really know about Sarah? Very little, he suddenly realized.
“So where is she?” he demanded, quickly reaching the end of his rope.
There was a hesitation, then a sigh. “Look, Justin, maybe since she didn’t tell you—”
“Where, Bill?” he demanded.
“Okay, okay! But if she’s mad at me—”
“Bill!”
“She’s living at a homeless shelter downtown near Second Street.”
Justin’s legs collapsed underneath him and he sank to the bed, stunned. “Homeless shelter?” he whispered, unable to believe what he was hearing.
“Yeah. Evidently, when she lost her job, she didn’t have enough money to pay her rent. She had to move out but had nowhere to go and wouldn’t let me help since I’m so newly married. She refuses to collect unemployment—”
“She was fired!” Justin shouted.