The man in question inches closer and murmurs, “Big breaths.”
Right. Yes. Breathing.Important. I square my shoulders and suck in a shaky breath. “I promise I came willingly.” Okay. A quip. A good start. “I’m excited to help.”
“I’m loving this enthusiasm. With your help, we may actually get through all this junk”—she gestures at the busy room—“in time for the festival. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’ve got a feeling my husband has been distracted inspecting the beers Mullie just dropped out back.” She slaps Sawyer on the shoulder before she disappears into the crowd.
Sawyer gives me an approving nod. “You did good.”
I slump in relief. Thank God that’s over for now. “No more introductions.”
“But what about—”
“No.”
He laughs. “Look who’s learned to stand up for herself.”
“My survival instinct has officially kicked in. I’m sure I’ll get to know everyone eventually, but…”
“Hearin’ you loud and clear, Hosko.”
Cain lumbers into the hall, lugging a box of stuffed toys. He spots Sawyer and acknowledges him by lifting his chin. “I’ve been banished.” He drops the box at his feet.
The two embrace. It’s a quick hug, but clearly, they are closer than just business partners.
“Cain.” Sawyer pats his shoulder. “I brought some help.”
“It can’t hurt. Elsie, right?” His hand sticks out.
I wither on the spot. My social battery isn’t just depleted; it’s bleating warning sirens in my head.Please. Not another handshake.
Sawyer leans forward and grabs his hand instead.
“What the hell?” Cain pulls out of the handshake. “Fuck off.” Surprised, he roars with laughter.
“I thought you wanted an introduction.” Sawyer smirks.
“Not from you, you salty bastard.” Cain turns to me. “You met the drill sergeant?”
“Right before she went outside to kick your ass,” Sawyer says.
Cain grins.
“Elsie knows about antiques,” Sawyer adds. “Vintage jewelry, shit your grandma has in her china hutch, you name it.”
“Yeah?” Cain almost sounds impressed.
I quickly douse any lofty expectations. “I know abit.”
Sawyer butts his shoulder into mine. It’s a quiet way of reminding me he wants me to stand up for myself, but what does he expect me to do? Storm into the room, toss boxes out of my way, and declare my presence by firing off my list of qualifications? Freya’s got the confident boss-in-charge vibe covered. Surely, it’s perfectly acceptable for me to fade into the light brown wallpaper and not draw attention from a single soul.
Cain rubs his hand over the dark stubble covering his chin. “Elsie knows her stuff, huh? We might avoid a repeat of last year’s shenanigans.”
“Exactly what I was thinkin’.”
Cain jerks his head towards the row of trestle tables in the back. “Come on over and see what we’ve got so far. I’ve sorted through a couple of the boxes. There’s a decent haul.”
A porcelain tea set haphazardly stacked on the table catches my eye. I brush my fingertip over the roses painted around the rim of the teacup. “This is Royal Albert.” I flip the cup, and sure enough, the stamp on the bottom confirms it. “You’ve got an Old Country Roses tea set here.” I pick up another cup and examine the perfect golden edges. “It’s in mint condition.”
“Told you she knows what she’s talkin’ about,” Sawyer murmurs to Cain.
