Saving Savannah

She was the best part of every day. A stream of cool, crystal clear water — or lemonade, or whatever — running down our parched, eager throats.

It didn’t hurt that she was absolutely gorgeous. Blonde haired. Blue-eyed. Pretty in that oh-so-cliche’ girl-next-door sort of way, where she may or may not know it.

Even her name was attractive. Madison. I couldn’t get tired of saying it in my head. It just was so… her.

“Thank you, honey.”

She returned my smile as I took the glass of ice-cold liquid from her tray. I’d flirted with her a hundred times, and so had Chase. She’d always flirted back. It had become somewhat of a game for us, who could make her laugh the hardest, or get the widest grin. Chase usually won the laughing part. I was always better at eliciting the biggest smile.

The key to that was in the eye contact. And Madison had some of the deepest, most sapphire blue eyes I’d ever seen on a woman.

It was almost inconceivable that she lived here alone, in a big old place like this. A girl this desirable without a boyfriend or husband or anyone at all. She should be surrounded by suitors. Hunted down by dozens of guys nowhere near good enough for her.

But in other ways, it was totally believable. Madison was strong, inside and out. Made even stronger by what happened with her poor uncle. Chase and I had watched, sadly, as our employer’s niece sacrificed so much to keep him healthy. And then after his passing, how tirelessly she’d worked to bring his place back to life.

Her tenacity and refusal to give up was one of the things we admired most about her. It was the main reason we worked so hard.

I set down the empty glass and took the second one, as always. She could’ve just brought bigger glasses, and left them with us. But why ruin a good thing? I think she enjoyed watching us. Spending those few flirtatious moments together, talking about nothing and—

“Here.”

I stopped mid-gulp, realizing Madison was still holding out the tray. On it, next to the lemonade, were two sealed envelopes.

“What’s that?”

“It’s two weeks’ pay,” Madison said calmly. She was trying to keep her voice strong, but it wasn’t working.

“What the hell for?”

She held her composure for another moment or two, then her whole demeanor changed. Her shoulders slumped. The breath she’d been holding came out in a long sigh. Most of all, her smile — which had been exceptionally wide all week — abruptly faded.

“I… I have to let you go.”

Chase and I looked at each other with bitter, knowing glances. We’d been he

re before.

“I mean, you’re not being fired,” she said quickly. “It’s more of a temporary layoff.”

“How temporary?”

Madison set the tray down, then reached up and combed her fingers through her hair. It was something she did whenever she was nervous.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

I looked down at the two plain envelopes, still resting on the tray. They represented a grim finality. The end of something good.

And looking back at our beautiful ex-employer, maybe even a missed opportunity.

“And what about him?” asked Chase, pointing with one arm. Across the courtyard, the big stonemason was busy slitting open a fresh bag of cement. Getting ready to mix his latest batch of mortar.

“Julian?”

She sounded nervous. More nervous than ever.

“Yeah. Julian.”

“He’s… just gonna finish up that section of the wall,” Madison replied hesitantly. “When he’s done, I’ll call for a last inspection. Hopefully, with a little luck…”