Page 14 of Tattered Edges

Eloise tilted her head slightly, still studying me intently as she clarified, “I’d like to know why Maeve intends to take responsibility of a business she knows nothing about, given to her by a man she never met, whose sentimental attachment she can’t possibly understand.”

I heard it as Mr. Johnson drew in a breath, as if to respond on my behalf. I held up my hand to stop him, unappreciative of the way everyone was talking about me as if I wasn’t sittingright there.The way the Blackstones were treating me all but eradicated any nerves I’d battled over the months, weeks, days, evenminutesleading up to our first encounter.

“First, as I said before, I go bySawyer.I get how that might bother you, and I’m sorry for your loss—I truly am—but that doesn’t change the fact that my name isSawyer.

“As for what it is I’m doing here, I’m not sure I could explain it in a way that would satisfy you. I spent my whole life wondering who my father was. If this is as close as I’ll get to meeting him, how could I possibly turn it down?”

“What if we bought you out?” asked Juliet, as if she heard not a word I’d said. “You could keep the flat, if it means that much to you, but the bookstore should have been left to my children. It’s been in the Blackstone family two generations and should remain as such. Had I known what my dear Sawyer was planning, I’m sure I would have been able to convince him of the same truth.

“Now, I’m aware you’ve come anawfullylong way and you’ve gone through the trouble of relocating, which is why we’d be amenable to your keeping the flat; but there must be a fair price we could agree upon for the store.”

I thought about the letter tucked inside of the book I still carried with me in my purse. The man who’d written it hadn’t left me a bookstore as an afterthought. It wasn’t an accident or an oversight, either. It had been intentional, regardless of what any of them said.

I was still grappling with my own feelings about the fact that he knew about me for years but was never brave enough to introduce himself. It wasn’t ideal or fair or right. Not that I could say what therightthing to do would have been. It wasn’t that simple. As many times as I’d tried to put myself in his shoes, they didn’t fit. Now, as I tried to put myself in theirs, I could at least empathize with the shock of it all. I understood this wasn’t easy for any of us—but I couldn’t be bought.

“You mentioned the store has been in the Blackstone family for generations. My last name might not be the same as yours, but my ownership doesn’t change to whom it belongs. You should know, I have every intention of keeping the integrity of Tattered Edges the same, and I’d be more than happy to learn from all of you what that means."

I paused for a moment, glancing at each of them with assurance. When no one interjected, I continued, “I know I’m a stranger, and you have no reason to trust me, but I’m not going anywhere. In time, I hope you’ll come to see my intentions are honest. I don’t want to sell.”

“Ridiculous,” spat Archie. He stood abruptly, sending his chair rolling toward the windows behind him as he stormed out of the room.

I watched him go, grimacing a little. I was beginning to think he was a bit of a spoiled brat. Though, circumstances what they were, it wasn’t exactly fair to judge him, so I tried to let it go.

Juliet sighed. “Dramatic as my son might be, he’s not wrong. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. An American girl running a bookstore in London sounds romantic, but I assure you it’s not.” She stood, collecting her coat from over the back of her chair. “That place hasn’t made a decent profit in years. When you change your mind about selling, be sure to let David know. He’ll get in touch.”

What she’d said confused me. If it was true the business I’d inherited was a struggling one, why were they so intent on buying it from me?

I didn’t get the chance to ask. Juliet departed without a word of goodbye, which left only Eloise.

“I’m not sure what troubles me more—how looking at you reminds me of him, or how your being here is proof that he lied to us all. He was a good man, my father. As close to perfect as I could ever want him to be. Or so I thought.” As she stood, she continued, “You’ll have to excuse us for not welcoming you with open arms. Clearly, he saw you as his—but you’re not ours. He made that abundantly clear.

“Welcome to London, Maeve Nielsen. No doubt I’ll be seeing you.”

As I watched her leave, I wondered if that was a threat or a promise. I couldn’t say whether or not I wanted to see any of the Blackstones ever again. Our first encounter had been brutal, and I wasn’t anxious to live through another.

“Miss Nielsen, I’m sorry that went so poorly. I had hoped in the weeks following the news, their curiosity would tamper their outrage. It appears, time has not yet healed those wounds.”

I reached up and raked my fingers through my hair, not sure what to say.

“It’s, um—it’s not your fault,” I stammered.

He offered me an apologetic smile, and the sympathy I saw in his eyes was too much. I had done a great job of keeping my emotions in check thus far. I didn’t need a kind, grandfatherly like man indulging the part of me that was disappointed enough to cry.

The Blackstones might not have wanted me to have the bookstore, but I did. Not only that, but it was also going to open in forty-five minutes. I didn’t have time to wallow.

“About that paperwork—you have some things for me to sign?”

It only took a couple of minutes for us to conclude our business. Mr. Johnson assured me he’d be available should I need his services in the future, but I didn’t see a reason why I would. I thanked him anyway before I wrapped myself in my coat and took my leave.

As I stepped outside, I was relieved to see the rain had stopped. At least for a moment. I hoped I could make it back to St. Andrew’s Hill before the sky opened up again.

“What do you know,thereshe is—the reason our deal is off.”

I stopped short at the sound of his voice, then glanced in the direction from which it had come. Except, it wasn’t the sight of Archie that made my breath catch. It was the redhead from The King’s Steed. The man I’d kissed.

No.

The man I’d propositioned.

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