Chapter 7 - The Woman He Waited For
Three months later, Callum Russo sat in the same rear booth at the Continental.
Nine o’clock.
His scotch remained untouched.
Marco stood near the bar.
“You’re doing it again.”
Callum glanced at him.
“Doing what?”
“Checking your watch.”
Callum looked down.
9:02.
“She’s late.”
Marco smiled.
“Fire her.”
Callum gave him a look.
Marco immediately became fascinated by the ceiling.
At 9:04, the restaurant doors opened.
Sadie entered.
No limp.
No torn tights.
No ruined shoe.
She wore a dark green dress beneath a black coat, her hair pinned loosely behind her shoulders.
She spotted Callum.
And smiled.
Something in his chest shifted.
Sadie reached the booth.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“Four minutes.”
“You counted?”
“No.”
She looked at his watch.
“Liar.”
Callum stood and pulled out her chair.
Sadie stared at him.
“What?”
“You pulled out my chair.”
“I’m capable of manners.”
“Should I call Elena? She’ll want evidence.”
“Sit down.”
Sadie laughed and did.
The waiter brought wine.
Sadie looked around.
“Where are the documents?”
“There aren’t any.”
“The appraisal photographs?”
“No.”
“Shipping records?”
“No.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Then why am I here?”
Callum suddenly seemed less comfortable negotiating with one woman than he had been confronting an entire room of enemies.
Sadie noticed immediately.
“Callum Russo.”
“Yes?”
“Are you nervous?”
“No.”
“You are.”
“I am not.”
She leaned closer.
“You absolutely are.”
Callum reached inside his jacket.
Sadie’s amusement disappeared.
He placed a small velvet box on the table.
Her eyes widened.
“Callum.”
“Open it.”
She slowly did.
Inside wasn’t a ring.
It was an antique silver pendant.
Sadie stared at it.
“You bought the Bellini pendant?”
“You said it had been missing since 1942.”
“It belongs in a museum.”
“I know.”
She looked suspicious.
“Then why are you giving it to me?”
“I’m not.”
Sadie blinked.
Callum slid a document across the table.
She read it.
Her eyes widened again.
He had donated the pendant to her museum.
In her name.
“Why?”
“Because you told me something three months ago.”
“What?”
“That normal people care about living things.”
She smiled.
“And?”
“I’m attempting normal.”
Sadie laughed softly.
“You have a long way to go.”
“I know.”
He reached across the table.
This time, he didn’t pin her hand beneath his.
He simply held it.
Sadie let him.
Callum looked at her wrist.
The bruises were gone.
He still remembered every one.
“Nolan was sentenced yesterday,” he said.
“I heard.”
“He apologized.”
“He should.”
“He also said you kicked him hard enough that he still remembers it.”
“Good.”
Callum smiled.
Sadie squeezed his hand.
“Is that why you invited me?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
He looked at her.
“Dinner.”
“Business?”
“No.”
“An appraisal?”
“No.”
“Then what exactly is this?”
Callum hesitated.
Sadie’s smile widened.
“Say it.”
“A date.”
“I’m sorry?”
He sighed.
“A date.”
“With the terrifying Callum Russo?”
“I’m reconsidering.”
“Too late.”
Sadie lifted her wineglass.
“To being four minutes late.”
Callum lifted his.
“I hated every second.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“No.”
Their glasses touched.
Sadie studied him across the candlelight.
Three months earlier, she had entered this restaurant soaked, frightened, and bleeding, convinced that showing weakness to Callum Russo would destroy her.
She had been wrong.
Weakness hadn’t changed the way he saw her.
Courage had.
She had refused Nolan.
Protected the truth.
Exposed Anthony.
Helped save Elena.
And when Callum tried to decide her future for her, she had refused him too.
That, perhaps, was why he trusted her.
Sadie smiled.
“One condition.”
Callum raised an eyebrow.
“For the date?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“No bodyguards at the next table.”
Callum glanced toward Marco.
Marco immediately looked away.
“Impossible.”
“Callum.”
“One.”
“Zero.”
“One outside.”
Sadie considered.
“Fine.”
Callum extended his hand.
“Deal?”
She took it.
“Deal.”
Outside, Chicago rain streaked the windows.
Inside, dinner arrived.
Nobody discussed stolen paintings.
Nobody mentioned Anthony.
Callum didn’t check his watch again.
And when Sadie finally left the Continental hours later, she wasn’t walking alone.
She wasn’t limping either.
Callum walked beside her beneath one umbrella, matching his pace to hers even though he no longer needed to.
For a man who had once believed time was the only currency worth respecting, Callum Russo had finally discovered something he valued more.
May you like
The person worth waiting for.
THE END
