Page 81 of Savannah Sweethearts

“Hello? Orlando?”

Tori. It was my ex-girlfriend. I gaped a moment before I stuttered her name. “T-Tori? Is that you?”

A sigh of relief came through the phone. “Yes, it’s me. How are you?”

I could picture her sitting primly on a leather chair, her blonde hair perfectly tucked back, clothing immaculate. On paper, Tori was a perfect match for me. In reality, it was doomed from the start. We were similar, too similar. Both too goal-oriented to allow the other to shine. And those goals had led us to two different coasts.

“I’m good. Back in Savannah. How’s Oregon?” I swallowed the lump in my throat. Why was she calling me?

“I miss the sunshine, but not the humidity, of Georgia,” she replied with an awkward laugh.

My phone buzzed again. I looked at the screen, Amaya’s face popped up. It would be too rude to hang up on Tori, I would have to call Amaya back. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh.” It was as if she didn’t have a reason for calling. “Right. I heard you’re looking to sell The Promenade. I thought maybe you had reconsidered coming west.”

Inwardly, I groaned. This was not happening. “I have entertained offers if anyone is interested, but I don’t think I’m actively looking to sell anymore. And I have no intention of going west, Tori.”

Never one to admit defeat, I could picture Tori squaring her shoulders and picking her chin up. “I suppose I misunderstood then. I did send a client of mine, Mr. James Worthy, the info on The Promenade and he was quite interested. But I can tell him I was misinformed.”

“The James Worthy? That’s a big name client.” Color me impressed. Tori had moved up in the world.

“Well, I apologize for calling so late. I forgot it’s three hours ahead there.” An uneasy silence filled the air. “I hope you’re well, Orlando.”

“I am well. And happy. I hope you are, too.” I meant it. We hadn’t parted on bad terms, we just weren’t right for each other.

“Yes, well. Goodbye then,” she said, her voice soft and low. The phone clicked and she was gone.

I stared at nothing for a moment. “That was strange,” I muttered into the air. Had she been calling solely about her client being interested? Maybe she was trying to brag about having one of the leading real estate tycoons as a client. But then I wondered if she missed me and truly wanted me to come out to Oregon.

The thought lingered in my mind for a moment. Would I be happy in Oregon? Likely not. I preferred the slower pace of Georgia, I had discovered. And, I realized, Tori was not the love of my life. There was no way I would pack up and move to be with her. I wasn’t sure I would do that with Amaya, either, but we were new. I did, however, know I wanted to see where this thing with her was going. It felt like it could go the distance.

Remembering that she had called, I dialed her number and waited for her to pick up.

“Hey,” she said. I hadn’t noticed that she had an accent before, but after talking to Tori, I picked up a hint of a smooth southern lilt to her voice.

“Hey.” The smile that came across my face could not be helped. “Sorry I missed you a minute ago, I had a business call.”

“So late on a Saturday?” A yawn came through the phone.

“Sometimes business knows no hours.” That was the truth.

And she agreed. “I know it. I’m glad this was an earlier wedding and not one I’d be at until midnight.” She paused, but it held none of the ill ease the one with Tori had held. “Anyway, I wanted to call and thank you again.”

I scratched the stubble on my chin. “Oh, I think you could have figured it out. But I’m glad to help. He was a…”

“Yeah, he is,” she interrupted. “And I’m glad I didn’t have to figure it out. I’ve never had that happen at a wedding before and I just froze. I didn’t know what to do. If I had been at the beach or something I would have kicked him right where it counts. But I couldn’t do that to my reputation as a businesswoman.”

“Maybe we need security at The Promenade.”

She yawned again and I had the sudden urge to tuck her into bed and watch her sleep.

“No, I’ve done dozens, hundreds, of weddings and this was a first. Usually the worst thing is a handsy groomsman.”

“I had a thought. What if we offered free self-defense classes once a month for women in the area?”

The sleepy tone she had perked up a little. “Really? That’s a wonderful idea. I think Linny has taken classes, I can ask who did them.”

“Let’s talk about it on Monday,” I suggested.

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