Page 17 of Tattered Edges

“Sounds perfect.”

IlikedVictoriawithintwo minutes of knowing her.

After nine hours in her company, I adored her.

She was as funny as she was honest, and humble as she was intelligent—which was to saya lot. She spent most of the day filling my head with information, and I did my best to absorb as much of it as possible. Aware she’d been carrying the heavy load of managing and operating Tattered Edges all on her own the last couple of months, I admired and respected her greatly.

“Listen, I know we’ve been together all day, but we’ve been mostly business. I don’t have anything going on tonight. Would you fancy a drink? We could pop over to The King’s Steed and chat for a bit. Get to know each other,” she suggested after she’d locked the front door and flipped theopensign toclosed.

“Oh,” I murmured, pausing as memories of my interactions with Rory flashed before my eyes.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready to return to his pub. After our exchange that morning, he seemed like a complication I didn’t have the energy to manage at the end of a long day—with or without an outstanding martini.

“Or, I suppose, we could go out another time,” said Victoria, misunderstanding my hesitation.

“No, no, tonight would be great. I just—how would you feel aboutdinnerinstead? I eat almost anything, so I’m happy to try whichever restaurant you’d recommend.”

“Dinner would be delightful,” she said, perking up once more. “In fact, I know just the place.”

Twenty minutes and a black cab ride later, we arrived at Bread Street Kitchen and Bar. It was far from empty, but on a Monday night, it wasn’t so busy that we had any trouble getting a table. A quick glance at the menu, and I knew right away I would be ordering the Gordon Ramsay fish and chips.

How could I not?

“I suppose, before I pepper you with questions, I’ll divulge a bit about myself,” Victoria began soon after our orders were taken. “I was born and raised in Cape Town, South Africa. I came to London to go to uni, and I loved it so much I decided to stay. Even convinced my parents to make the move—though, they live in the country now. Anyway, I thought for a while I wanted to be a teacher. Tried it out for a couple of years, and ultimately decided it wasn’t right for me.

“It was pure luck, finding Tattered Edges and meeting Sawyer when I did. The timing had been ideal for both of us. I took the job and never looked back. Sometimes, it’s hard to believe how long it’s been. Believe it or not, I turned forty just before Christmas.” She leaned across the table and whispered, “But don’t go telling anyone that.” She winked at me and then sat back in her chair.

Like I’d done many times over that day, I hummed my amusement, appreciative of her sense of humor.

“I’m not married, though I’m not opposed to the idea. Dating is such an exhausting endeavor. Quite frankly, I’d rather be home with a good book. I suppose there is the possibility one day a man will walk into the shop and make me think otherwise, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

“Every day is a new opportunity. You never know,” I insisted, meaning every word.

“Right you are.” She propped her forearms atop the table and waggled her eyebrows at me. “Now, my dear, it’s time to turn the tables on you.”

Victoria was officially my first friend in London. In spite of the nine years between us, and the fact that I was a complete newbie who wastechnicallyher boss, she showed me more respect than I had yet earned. Grateful for her kindness and confidence, I was more than happy to open up and a share what was worth knowing about me.

“What do you want to know?” I asked, mimicking her stance.

“I already know where you’re from. Born and raised in New York. Attended uni in California. I suppose what I’m most curious about is—what made you decide to come here? You had a whole life back in America.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful you made the move, but it’s not a small thing to start over. I won’t claim to know your business, or that of the Blackstone family, but no one saw this coming. Least of all me.”

It wasn’t the first time that day someone had asked me the same question. It was, however, the first time I felt like the inquiry came with a genuine desire to hear my answer. And not justhearit butlistento it.

“I spent most of my life thinking it was just my mom and me. After she died, whatever family I had left was the family I’d chosen. When I learned about Sawyer—who he was, what he’d left me—I think there was only ever one choice. For me, anyway.

“Maybe that choice would have been different if I’d known him all my life, or if I’d met him in the five years he’d known about me but kept his silence. I don’t know. I’m not sure I believe in serendipity, but I do think timing is everything.

“I won’t be so callous as to say he died at the right time. There is no right time to die. But he gifted me something that was important to him and, in a way, it felt like he was telling me I was important, too.” I paused, sitting back a little in my chair as I realized just how transparent I’d been. “Maybe it sounds pathetic,” I admitted, “but if there was anything I could wish my father would say to me—thatwould be it.”

“Oh, Sawyer,” Victoria murmured, reaching across the table between us to rest a hand on my arm. “That’s not pathetic. Not at all. It actually breaks my heart a little to hear you say that, knowing the man he was. I bet you would have loved him. I don’t know many people who didn’t.”

Our server returned to deliver our dinner, but the interruption didn’t deter me from asking, “What was he like?”

“He was marvelous. Honestly,” she replied easily. “I’m not just saying that because he’s dead. He was generous and humble, qualities that are hard to come by from people who build their way up from nothing, let alone people who are given everything on a silver platter.

“He loved his family and believed in tradition. If you want to know the truth, I think that’s why he gave you the bookstore.”

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