Page 47
Story: Connor
“What do you mean by my reputation?” I ask.
“Well, he was asking for you, specifically.”
“For me?” I ask again, because that’s weird. I’m a consultant. I’m not listed on the website and haven’t been on any social media for the spa or distillery. I’m not part of the permanent team in any way.
“Who’s asking after Daisy?” Connor’s voice barks from behind me, so firm that I jolt. Unease fills me slightly as I think about who would even know I’m here. It’s just the team here, and then, of course, my family, Trisha, and a few suppliers. Maybe it was a supplier?
I turn to him, his face tense as he looks at Stephanie.
“Ahh, he didn’t leave a name or number…” she says hesitantly. “Maybe the restaurant team knows more?” she offers, now feeling unsure herself, and I dare say, a little taken aback by Connor’s intensity. I know he’s been stressed lately. Something happened with Lacy and his friend Hudson. I didn’t ask questions—it’s none of my business—but whatever it is, it seems major. Lacy won’t be back at work for a while, and both Sawyer and Connor are about to go over to Hudson’s place now.
He now stands by my side, so close I can smell him and feel the heat from his body. Sawyer stands opposite us, watching everyone and everything as Connor looks down at me, his gaze burning into mine.
“We haven’t put anything out to the media yet. No one knows you’re here. Who would be asking for you personally?” His brows pinch in thought, and I don’t know why we all feel uneasy about this. I take a deep breath, trying to think about it logically.
“It might have been a supplier? Maybe Soren again?” I’m trying to ease everyone's confusion and concern, yet as I say the words, I doubt them. I know Soren is having his quiet week at the commune, so I don’t think it would be him. I also don’t have any more deliveries coming. In fact, I have more than enough stock from him to last me months.
“Maybe it was just a tourist. He probably heard about it in town. You know how Rochelle loves to talk.” Stephanie shrugs, and I nod.
“Yeah. That must be it,” I say, smiling at her and nodding as she moves back to her desk to take a call. Meanwhile, Connor is still tense beside me. I hear a cell ring and look at Sawyer, who holds up his phone.
“Sorry, I’ve got to take this,” he says, stepping out to the front of the distillery, leaving Connor and me alone.
“Can you think of anyone else it might be?” he asks me, frowning. I’m not sure why he’s suddenly so concerned about this.
“I'm sure it’s nothing. Maybe a contact of my mom’s or something. She’s been telling everyone where I am.” I try to put him at ease. His stance softens a bit.
“Sorry, we just don’t like strangers around here much, and I want to ensure you’re safe.” His hand touches the small of my back, and his thumb rubs up and down in a soft motion that sends butterflies into flight in my stomach. I pause, the feelings building between us almost too big for me to handle. Any words I had get stuck in my throat as his eyes search mine.
We both agreed after the kiss yesterday that we needed to remain professional, but this side of him, this caring, protective nature of his that has started to come through, his passionate kiss, the way he rests his hand on the small of my back when we walk places, or the way he lifted me into his truck. All these little moments are chipping away at my initial assessment of him, and I can now see that I was way off the mark in how I judged him.
“I need to go. You alright?” he asks me quietly, startling me from my thoughts, his tone low, like we’re having our own private conversation, and I’m not sure if he’s referring to this situation or the situation we had in his office yesterday, but I smile up at him. I heard him and Tanner talking about the machine breaking down and the crops that were affected by the storm, so I know he has a lot on his mind. Stress is such an impacting factor on our health these days, and I prefer Connor doesn’t suffer because of it. That thought makes my healing nature come to the forefront.
“I’m fine. But you seem to have a lot going on. Why don’t you join me for yoga on the weekend? It might help your stress levels,” I offer genuinely, and while it probably isn’t the best idea for us to start doing more activities together, given our need to remain professional, as a healer and understanding the power of yoga and meditation like I do, I know that it’ll benefit him. His eyes widen a little before his lips curve up at the sides just slightly.
“I might give it a try.” He nods before he drops his hand and walks out the door, and I stand, watching as he and Sawyer jump into his truck and drive away.
“I called the restaurant to ask for more details.” Stephanie’s voice startles me, and I turn to look at her.
“Oh, what did they say?” I ask, walking over to her desk.
“They said it was an older gentleman who was there with a few younger men. A group of four of them. They asked to see you, wanted to walk into the office, but the waiter stopped them.”
“Did they give a name?” I ask.
“No. But he saw them leave in an old van.”
It was obviously Soren, here with some friends or hitchhikers, no doubt.
“Oh, that’s fine. I know him. He’s a supplier,” I tell her, feeling somewhat relieved to put the puzzle together, and she smiles, happy the mystery is solved.
As I walk down to my office, ready to tackle the afternoon workload, I think about Mom and Dad. I should go home to see them soon. I’m here for a month, maybe two, but I can leave on weekends, and maybe flying back to see them would be nice. I put the new paperwork from Sawyer underneath all the rest, knowing it isn’t urgent, before I get back to tackling my to-do list.
I will meditate on it. While I’m in no rush to get back to the city, I’m really craving Mom’s dahl.
21
DAISY
“Well, he was asking for you, specifically.”
“For me?” I ask again, because that’s weird. I’m a consultant. I’m not listed on the website and haven’t been on any social media for the spa or distillery. I’m not part of the permanent team in any way.
“Who’s asking after Daisy?” Connor’s voice barks from behind me, so firm that I jolt. Unease fills me slightly as I think about who would even know I’m here. It’s just the team here, and then, of course, my family, Trisha, and a few suppliers. Maybe it was a supplier?
I turn to him, his face tense as he looks at Stephanie.
“Ahh, he didn’t leave a name or number…” she says hesitantly. “Maybe the restaurant team knows more?” she offers, now feeling unsure herself, and I dare say, a little taken aback by Connor’s intensity. I know he’s been stressed lately. Something happened with Lacy and his friend Hudson. I didn’t ask questions—it’s none of my business—but whatever it is, it seems major. Lacy won’t be back at work for a while, and both Sawyer and Connor are about to go over to Hudson’s place now.
He now stands by my side, so close I can smell him and feel the heat from his body. Sawyer stands opposite us, watching everyone and everything as Connor looks down at me, his gaze burning into mine.
“We haven’t put anything out to the media yet. No one knows you’re here. Who would be asking for you personally?” His brows pinch in thought, and I don’t know why we all feel uneasy about this. I take a deep breath, trying to think about it logically.
“It might have been a supplier? Maybe Soren again?” I’m trying to ease everyone's confusion and concern, yet as I say the words, I doubt them. I know Soren is having his quiet week at the commune, so I don’t think it would be him. I also don’t have any more deliveries coming. In fact, I have more than enough stock from him to last me months.
“Maybe it was just a tourist. He probably heard about it in town. You know how Rochelle loves to talk.” Stephanie shrugs, and I nod.
“Yeah. That must be it,” I say, smiling at her and nodding as she moves back to her desk to take a call. Meanwhile, Connor is still tense beside me. I hear a cell ring and look at Sawyer, who holds up his phone.
“Sorry, I’ve got to take this,” he says, stepping out to the front of the distillery, leaving Connor and me alone.
“Can you think of anyone else it might be?” he asks me, frowning. I’m not sure why he’s suddenly so concerned about this.
“I'm sure it’s nothing. Maybe a contact of my mom’s or something. She’s been telling everyone where I am.” I try to put him at ease. His stance softens a bit.
“Sorry, we just don’t like strangers around here much, and I want to ensure you’re safe.” His hand touches the small of my back, and his thumb rubs up and down in a soft motion that sends butterflies into flight in my stomach. I pause, the feelings building between us almost too big for me to handle. Any words I had get stuck in my throat as his eyes search mine.
We both agreed after the kiss yesterday that we needed to remain professional, but this side of him, this caring, protective nature of his that has started to come through, his passionate kiss, the way he rests his hand on the small of my back when we walk places, or the way he lifted me into his truck. All these little moments are chipping away at my initial assessment of him, and I can now see that I was way off the mark in how I judged him.
“I need to go. You alright?” he asks me quietly, startling me from my thoughts, his tone low, like we’re having our own private conversation, and I’m not sure if he’s referring to this situation or the situation we had in his office yesterday, but I smile up at him. I heard him and Tanner talking about the machine breaking down and the crops that were affected by the storm, so I know he has a lot on his mind. Stress is such an impacting factor on our health these days, and I prefer Connor doesn’t suffer because of it. That thought makes my healing nature come to the forefront.
“I’m fine. But you seem to have a lot going on. Why don’t you join me for yoga on the weekend? It might help your stress levels,” I offer genuinely, and while it probably isn’t the best idea for us to start doing more activities together, given our need to remain professional, as a healer and understanding the power of yoga and meditation like I do, I know that it’ll benefit him. His eyes widen a little before his lips curve up at the sides just slightly.
“I might give it a try.” He nods before he drops his hand and walks out the door, and I stand, watching as he and Sawyer jump into his truck and drive away.
“I called the restaurant to ask for more details.” Stephanie’s voice startles me, and I turn to look at her.
“Oh, what did they say?” I ask, walking over to her desk.
“They said it was an older gentleman who was there with a few younger men. A group of four of them. They asked to see you, wanted to walk into the office, but the waiter stopped them.”
“Did they give a name?” I ask.
“No. But he saw them leave in an old van.”
It was obviously Soren, here with some friends or hitchhikers, no doubt.
“Oh, that’s fine. I know him. He’s a supplier,” I tell her, feeling somewhat relieved to put the puzzle together, and she smiles, happy the mystery is solved.
As I walk down to my office, ready to tackle the afternoon workload, I think about Mom and Dad. I should go home to see them soon. I’m here for a month, maybe two, but I can leave on weekends, and maybe flying back to see them would be nice. I put the new paperwork from Sawyer underneath all the rest, knowing it isn’t urgent, before I get back to tackling my to-do list.
I will meditate on it. While I’m in no rush to get back to the city, I’m really craving Mom’s dahl.
21
DAISY
Table of Contents
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