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"How old are they?"
Ignoring my question, he pulled the food containers out and dropped them all clumsily on the countertop before reaching over for a cheeseboard. He placed the cheeses neatly on top of it and rummaged noisily through the cutlery drawers.
He waved the silverware and cheese knives over the food. "Is all this and a salad all right?" he asked.
"Sure. I'm not that hungry anyway."
He glanced at the spread, but didn't respond for a moment, then mumbled, "Me either. Not for food, anyway." My shyness hit me again when his eyes caught mine, and I saw his desire grow in them right in front of me.
"Better have something at least," I muttered quickly, and he burst out laughing.
"Am I that intimidating?"
"No, you're not intimidating. I'm a little rusty at this dating thing."
"Hmm. I'm a thing now, huh? I'm not sure whether I prefer that or the 'random guy' label. Is 'this dating thing' a step up from that? You know what? Don't answer that, or we'll be here all day. Grab a bottle of white wine from the fridge. Or if you like red, there are some in the rack under the cabinet over there," he said, walking away from me toward the balcony doors. "Patio doors open," he commanded, and the doors unlatched and immediately folded back in a smooth mechanical rotation.
Grabbing the wine, I stepped out onto the balcony and the view took my breath away. I turned to look over at him as he pulled out two chilled wine glasses from a wine cabinet at the side of his tiki bar.
"Sit. Allow me," he ordered. My eyes roamed over the outdoor kitchen and barbecue I hadn't noticed before. Taking out two plates, he kicked the door closed on the tall cupboard beside the sink and placed them in front of us.
For the next few minutes, we loaded our plates and glasses with food and wine, then sat back down to eat.
"So, the house?" I prompted.
"Right," he said, his hand halting with a large black olive held between his fingers. "As I said, Alexander was my dad's only brother. His dream was to build a dream place to his specification and fill it with kids." For a second, Sawyer glanced out at the view like he was gathering his thoughts before he looked back to me. His eyes had dulled in sadness.
"He didn't have children?"
"Unfortunately, no. He and his wife had big plans, but my aunt Maxine caught meningitis on vacation and passed away before he finished this. It was tragic because he was still relatively young, and she had been the love of his life. This was supposed to be their forever home … and now it's mine." He shrugged and our eyes connected. His were filled with the pain of his loss. "I was invested in this, and he knew I'd never sell it. I guess that's why he left it to me."
"Oh, goodness. How awful."
"Tell me about it. The guy worked so damned hard all his life and was brilliant at what he did. He worked as a government planner and architect for the city for fifteen years and consulted on large town projects until he decided to leave and design independent projects. People thought getting my uncle Alex to design for you was like winning the lottery."
"Alex Wild … Alexander Wild was your uncle?" I asked, the name suddenly clicking with me. I'd seen documentaries on the man, and his talent had been exceptional.
"Yeah. He always said each house he built, in consultation with the owners, taught him all the things he didn't want as features in his own."
"He didn't want to live here when it was finished?"
"No, he did. And he lived here for a while, but he died in a boating accident about two years ago and left a sizable portfolio of property. I inherited this," he remarked, waving his arm in the air.
"All of it? What about your siblings?"
"No, I didn't get all of his houses, just this and one other. Investing in property was how he secured his money, but this one was special to me. I gave up every weekend when I was seventeen to help out with the build. My sisters also got the pick of their favorite properties, and the rest were sold off to tenants or auctioned off and the money was split between me, my sisters, and two of his cousins as stipulated in his will. Everyone in my generation were his beneficiaries, except for my brother."
"He was left out?" I asked, horrified. Sawyer reached across the small table and took my hand. Threading his fingers between mine he stared at them, clasping and unclasping his fingers while he thought.
"Yeah, James had always been a bit … hard to handle. He and Uncle Alex never did see eye to eye. My uncle said it was James's nature to always want what I had. I couldn't argue with that since he betrayed me with my girlfriend, but I didn't think it was right to cut him out of my uncle's will. The way I saw it was I would never enjoy what he gave me as long as James had nothing, so I asked my sisters and his cousins to share what we'd all gotten fairly with him."
"What happened?"
"Happened? They were pissed I wanted to give him the time of day after what he'd done and refused to give him anything, but I was determined he wouldn't walk away empty-handed. My dad had already cut him off financially, and nothing I'd said could change that."
“Understandable though, given how he’d treated you,“ I remarked.
He shrugged. “James was devastated when he learned what our uncle had done. It was like another punishment for everything that had happened between us. I had to agree, it had looked that way to me too. He felt wronged, so I split what I'd been given right down the middle and signed over half to him."
