“Yep, I just got back a week ago from six months there teaching English.”
Negotiations for the deal in Pulau Ujong, Singapore’s largest island and the home to most of its population, had stalled with Mr. Lim. Bringing in someone more familiar with the culture and the language might just be what he needed to get to an agreement.
“I’m working to close a deal right now to build a trio of high-rises in Singapore,” he said. “Your insight may be valuable, but mostly I’ll need you for social events and at the office as backup for Amara.”
“She can’t send away your mom?” Clover asked.
He snorted. “Amara can do just about anything, but my mom mows her over. Mom convinced my dad to hire Amara years ago even though she had zero training or experience, and so Amara has a soft spot for her.”
“Why can’t you tell your mom to leave you alone?” she pressed.
God. How many times had he asked himself that same question since she’d started her Marry Off Sawyer campaign? More than he had dollars in the bank. But facing down Helene Carlyle wasn’t about being louder or more stubborn or blowing her off. Like mother like son, that approach just made both of them dig in deeper. Working around the force of will that was his mother took charm and finesse, something Sawyer had in very limited supply, if any at all. Plus, she was his mom, and you didn’t have to be Catholic to have the guilt that came along with disappointing your own mother.
“You met her for about two minutes.” He hit print on the document. The list of job tasks would be waiting for Clover in the
outer office as soon as she walked out the doors. “I’ve known her my whole life. When the woman has the bit between her teeth, it takes a helluva lot to dissuade her. I just need some time to come up with a way to do that. Six weeks sounds just about right.” He stood, needing movement to shove back the uncomfortable questions Clover raised. “Amara will show you to HR so you can fill out all the necessary forms and sign the nondisclosure agreement.” A discreet beep sounded from his monitor’s speaker, and a reminder for tonight’s gala popped up on the screen. “Damn.”
“Problem?” Clover asked, peeking around the edge of his monitor as if that wasn’t intrusive at all.
“I’ll need you to attend the Harbor City General Charity Gala with me tonight.” There was no way he was facing his mom alone after what had gone down today.
Clover jerked upright, her eyes wide. “Tonight?”
“I’ll pick you up at seven.” Gut tightening, he strode to his office door and opened it. “Be sure to leave your home address with Amara.”
Clover walked past him, muttering something he couldn’t quite make out. He should have shut the door as soon as she passed through, but he didn’t. Instead, he watched her turn that bright smile on Amara and wondered what in the hell Hudson had just gotten him into.
Chapter Three
Hands on her hips, head cocked to one side and chewing her bottom lip to the point of pain, Clover stared into the open doors of her small closet and tried to imagine anything inside as being appropriate for a big deal event like the Harbor City General Hospital Gala. Build a house for Habitat for Humanity? She had something to wear for that. A week in the desert working on an oral history of a native tribe? Yep, she had it covered. A party with Harbor City’s richest and snobbiest? That was going to take some creativity.
For that, she needed Daphne. Clover did a quick mental calculation. Her best friend was an airline attendant and in Portland tonight. So that meant it was still early. What the hell, it was worth a try. Clover grabbed her phone.
Clover: BFF SOS
Daphne: What up?
Clover: Have to go to a charity fundraiser ball thing. What to wear?
Daphne: 1. Awesome! 2. Ummmmmmm…diamonds?
Clover: Funny, you hag.
Daphne: It’s why you love me. My closet is yours.
Clover: You’re the best.
Daphne: LOL. Tell me in person tom morn when I get back to HC
Clover: xoxo
Daphne: :)
After a quick check at the clock, Clover hustled into Daphne’s room in the apartment they’d shared since graduating college. She slid over the bright and patterned hangers to the dark and rarely worn section in the back and pulled out a pair of wine-colored cigarette pants. Okay, she had at least ten pounds on Daphne, but as long as she could still button them then they were something she could build off of. She pivoted and held them out in front of her. One look at her reflection was all the nope she needed.
It shouldn’t matter. It wasn’t like she cared what other people thought about her, but it was hard to remember that she was a different person from that awkward small-town girl who years ago had walked into Harbor City University for the first time overwhelmed, scared, and beyond out of her depth. Thank God her dorm roommate turned out to be Daphne. If it hadn’t been for her, Clover might have tucked tail and run back home where it was safe, and that would’ve been the worst thing ever. Daphne had helped her become Clover in more than nickname only.
She went back to Daphne’s closet and started flipping through the hangers again. If only she could call her mom for a little mother/daughter advice chat. She even went so far as to reach for her phone before drawing back her hand without ever touching her cell. Nope. Her mom would have too many questions.