Love at Second Sight

Chapter 14

Is Fate getting what you deserve, or deserving what you get?

~Jodi Picoult

***

The next morning when he woke up the first thing his gaze landed on was the Post-it placed on the pillow next to him. That's when he realized that Savannah was missing. Of course. He plucked the sticky note and read it:

To Zac,

First, I hope this note finds you only. If it finds someone else, you and I will have some serious explaining to do. Anyway, jokes apart, you were sleeping soundly when I left. Didn't have the heart to wake you up. Was getting late, had to leave. I just wanted to thank you for being there for me last night. June 23 nights have always been the worst. So a very big thank you. Also, last night's sleep was one of my best in a really looooooong while. Well, juice kept for you in the refrigerator, as always. And...nothing else.

Bye. Have a good day.

—Savannah.

Well...the day just started on an extremely good note—pun intended. Stretching his arms over his head, he yawned and finally got out of bed. Returning to his room, he cleaned up, dressed for work and made his way downstairs.

"Someone looks awfully happy this morning, hm?"

"Good morning to you, too, mom," he sighed.

"What's gotten in you?"

"Nothing, why?"

"Again, you look much too happy."

"Probably. I got some real good sleep last night. Better than most days."

"Mm-hm. I see."

He ate breakfast as he read the newspaper. Not a single good news. Every single article—terrible and more terrible.

"Not coming home for lunch, right?"

"Nope," he confirmed. Pressing a chaste kiss on his mom's cheek, he left for Magna.

Once he reached his office he called for his assistant, Phil Wesley.

"Wesley, come in."

"You called for me, Mr. Sifton?"

"Yes. Run me through the proceedings for the gala, will you? How far along are we?"

"Uh—yes, Mr. Sifton. Some RSVPs came this morning. I'll forward the list to you. Other than that, well, the décor company was notified and appointed—two of their employees will visit us sometime this week. Entertainment and music has been delegated to the team you picked the other day. The head of the team said that he'll be sending the different playlists that they're gonna customize according to the theme. We'll have to shortlist at most three out of those playlists. And...yes. The sponsors have been contacted. And...that's it, I suppose."

"Okay, good. You may leave. I'll call you if I need anything."

"Yes, Mr. Sifton."

"Thank you."

He was jam packed until lunch—meeting, stat review, gala arrangements and whatnot. Days like these, he'd've normally skipped lunch and gotten more work done. Today, however, was different. He couldn't, because he, instinctively, knew that he was going to get to see her. He had a strong gut feeling.

Thinking so, he strode into Le Saveurs and went around looking at the buffet. Taking whatever he wanted, he sat at his regular table. The one nearest to the kitchen doors. Naturally.