He was familiar with Lucian's other friend. Sawyer's son Slade was one third of the boys' trifecta, though Shamus was a year behind the other two.
"What are you doing sitting in the dark?" He took another step inside the dim office.
"I was just … thinking." And drinking.
The end of the workweek showed in his opened collar. A day's worth of creases wrinkled his Brooks Brothers suit. He was roughly a decade and a half younger than her father, who had delayed having children as long as possible.
Though Sawyer was several years older than her, Bishop men wore time well, making it hard to discern their exact age. Sawyer's years were well hidden behind laugh lines and eyes so clear she could discern they were of the brightest blue—pretty eyes, the sort that shimmered. The sort she liked.
He possessed a swarthy complexion and distinguished elegance that never went out of style, and his son, Slade, had inherited the same sort of devastatingly handsome presence, but disguised it behind youthful attire. Masculine beauty such as theirs was a tricky thing, it made the young man appear older and the older man appear younger.
As he approached, her eyes did a brief perusal of his tall form. Sawyer always dressed to the nines. Even now, his tailored suit and dark vest accentuated his trim build and long torso with timeless aristocracy.
He was seasoned, sleek, and possessed such charm women of all ages tended to fall all over him. Though, to her knowledge, he hadn't been in any sort of committed relationship since losing his wife, Chelsea, thirteen years ago.
Casual strides led him across the carpet, his smile full of gentle understanding. "Rough day?"
He lowered himself into the chair on the other side of the desk, his broad shoulders relaxing with ease only confident men could master without looking slovenly.
Her gaze traveled back to his eyes. "Lucian left for college today."
He nodded. "That's actually why I'm here." Reaching into the breast pocket of his designer jacket, he withdrew a check. "Your father asked me to deliver this to you." The heavy paper landed on the desk with little flourish considering the amount inked on it. "He assumed that would be enough, but said to let him know if you need more."
Several zeroes stared back at her. Three hundred thousand dollars. That was more than enough to fund her brother's education.
He's never coming back.
She refused to reach for the paper insult that rested between them, the proof that her father intended to buy his way out of the debt he'd labeled his children.
"Do you need … anything else, Isadora?" Sawyer asked, deep voice soft.
There was no use pretending their situation was normal. It wasn't, and Sawyer knew that better than anyone after seeing the fallout of their father's humiliating affairs, which she believed drove their mother to an early grave. She shut her eyes, fearful she might see pity in his stare. It was no secret their father didn't love them enough to be there. His absence made it easy to give up and point the blame at her when anything went wrong at home.
But at the same time, his inadequacies made it imperative that she prove she and her siblings were deserving of love and fine without him. It was something of a daily objective.
Sawyer's question hung in the air like a sharp hook, piercing a veil worn thin with time and neglect. She needed so much, but certain things couldn't be secured with money.
Shaking her head, she gave a sardonic grin. "I suppose the next time I hear from him will be when Toni's tuition's due."
"I'm truly sorry he isn't here for you," Sawyer murmured, his watchful gaze showing genuine remorse.
She hated being the source of anyone's pity, but was too tired to hide her hurt. "He used to call first, discuss what would happen. Now, he's sending colleagues."
Though Sawyer was more than a colleague to their family, it was how their father saw him. Sawyer had been there for every birthday and major life event when their mother was alive, back when they still acknowledged such milestones. Now he was nothing more than her father's trusted partner, capable of accessing private funds and delivering certified checks— celebratory moments a thing of the past.
But Isadora never minded Sawyer's presence. Despite their lack of family gatherings, she still drew comfort from his experience and easy guidance whenever their paths crossed. In a way, she sometimes missed him, but only recognized the emotion when his familiar face appeared out of the blue on days like today. This was not the first time he'd been sent to tidy up some financial issue at her father's bidding.
"Thank you."
She was past feeling embarrassed by her father's actions. Sawyer didn't hold her accountable. As a matter of fact, he seemed to see her apart from Lucian and Toni altogether, as if she wasn't Christos's child as much as her younger siblings, when in truth, she'd been his child the longest.
Perhaps it was an age thing, being that she was the oldest. She wasn't sure when Sawyer stopped treating her like a child and started viewing her as an adult, but his recognition had a way of vindicating certain accomplishments others tended to overlook. He was always there to remind her she was doing a good job when she needed to hear it most.
Tipping his head, he gave her a knowing glance. "Do you think Lucian would have wanted him here?"
He knew her family's politics too well.
"No." Her response was succinct and indisputable.
Sawyer nodded, but she recognized disapproval in his eyes. Not for her or her siblings, but for their absentee father.
"He asked for a favor and I accepted. Next time I'll tell him he needs to—"
"It's fine."
Having Sawyer deliver money was probably better than having their father show up unannounced. They would be fine without him. She'd had an emotional day and was
simply acting out. "Him being here would only disrupt things."