My Cheeky Angel - Angels Love Romance

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My Cheeky Angel - Angels Love Romance Page 15

by Mimi Barbour


  “Trust me, Anna Hynes. We will fare well together and our employees will benefit. I’m a fair person, but I drive myself hard and expect the same of my employees.”

  She looked at him and nodded. He left and closed the door behind him. It was like a symbol, that closed door. Life as she’d known it was going to change. She had a feeling there would be no more open-door policy, chatting up friends by the water cooler, or jokes passed around so the whole office community could share a laugh. No more fun job—just a lot of hard work.

  As the day started, it continued. In fact, the days that followed didn’t vary one iota. All hell broke loose. The place shifted into overdrive. Various changes were initiated with such speed that it was hard to keep up. There were new faces everywhere; power people who enjoyed throwing their weight around. Feathers got ruffled in the process, and office politics, not a previous issue, became deadly. Everyone took on more work, including Annie.

  In the past, Sara had been a lifesaver many times over. Now she began taking sick days, leaving Annie in the lurch. An inefficient stopgap person, with minimal skills, continually jeopardized their department’s efficiency, putting a lot more pressure on Annie. She came close to calling Sara on her irresponsible behavior but hesitated, sensing the misery emanating from her friend.

  Hugo hadn’t shown up since they broke the news of the takeover. Annie worried constantly about him and his family. Her aim to work on his behalf became her main purpose, and the burden of this extra responsibility weighed heavily on her. Rumors were that he wasn’t well, but whenever she tried to call his home, the housekeeper would only take a message.

  To soothe her nagging inner voice, Annie went as far as stopping at his apartment one evening. Pressing decisions prompted her visit, because she felt he needed to be aware of what was happening in his absence. Once she arrived, his new housekeeper left her waiting in the foyer.

  Assorted large terrariums full of cacti and succulents were displayed in front of mirrored walls. The stunning effect kept her intrigued while she tarried, hoping he’d appear in person. Disappointed and perturbed by the message he sent back, she nonetheless followed his instructions: “Use your own discretion, my dear—I trust you” were the words he’d written on a scrap of paper the grumpy housekeeper thrust into her hands.

  And so she did. Each day she became more deeply entrenched and involved with policy and administration decisions. She took to the elevated authority like an Olympic skater learning a new routine. It was all a balancing act, and she led her people brilliantly. Her diplomacy skills were superior. She had the knack of manipulating the employees and situations without anyone taking offense or feeling used and abused. She’d become a top-notch manager, one with a great attitude.

  But Annie was tired and getting downright cranky. Worries about Lea ate away at her, and she lived with the premise that no news is good news. Also, she missed Tyler more and more every day. She’d fall into her bed each night and try to re-enact their interlude. But visions soon wore thin. Her memories weren’t that lucid. Plus, her tiredness left her little time to yearn and fantasize before exhaustion would overtake and drag her under, into the deep sleep she needed so badly.

  She yearned to be with him again but was without enough energy—or time—to make it happen. Returning to the apartment late every night made it all but impossible for her to see him. Her many calls never reached him, and messages weren’t working. He’d tried to return a couple of her pleas but had the same luck she did—all bad. Phone-tag wasn’t cutting it and e-mails were impossible. Desperate, she needed a Tyler fix.

  She yearned for the old days. Every moment spent thinking about the kids at the center hurt her heart. Each night, while making a pitiful supper from canned or packaged “whatever,” she’d re-read the special Good Luck card they’d made. It hung in a metallic frame on her fridge, and the lump in her throat clogged like a dried-up old meatball at the memory of their farewell wishes.

  As the time passed and she still hadn’t heard from Lea, her guilt increased. Humiliation filled her whenever she remembered how pompous she’d acted towards Tyler. He’d questioned her ability to stay awake, and she’d downplayed his sensitivity with no class whatsoever.

  The familiar ache had her hand reaching in her desk drawer for the disgusting pink bottle of indigestion potion. How the hell could she get off this crazy tilt-a-whirl?

  When she remembered her earlier perception of the new job and the excitement she’d imagined and craved all those months ago, she all but gagged. Cramming business luncheons and a few cocktail parties in between numerous meetings turned out to be boring, and mostly a waste of time, especially when she had so much work.

  It was in this snarly attitude that Nigel found her hard at it in her office.

  “Anna, would you happen to be free to join some of our clients and myself for dinner this evening? I have reservations at the 21 Club and wondered if you’d like to join—?”

  “I’d love to.” He seemed taken aback by her quick acceptance, but she didn’t care. A chance to dress up and get out into some nightlife put a sparkle in her eye and gave her spirits a sizable lift.

  “Can you meet us there at seven, then? Of course keep the receipt for the taxi and the company will cover the fare.”

  Why did his instructions dim her pleasure? Bitchy thoughts popped into her head and wouldn’t be dislodged. Tyler always picked me up when we’d go out for an evening! Even when I used to meet him after work, he’d wait for me at my exit. Damn, girl! Stop nit pickin’ details. Just look forward to the treat.

  Remembering that she’d bought a new dress a few weeks ago bolstered her spirits. The gorgeous frock had called to her female vanity whenever she’d walked past the window of an exclusive boutique. For almost a week she’d fought the pull but, ultimately, had given up the battle and went in praying it would fit. It did, and she bought it. She couldn’t wait to slip into it and feel like an attractive woman again and not an office robot.

  Chapter Seventeen

  As miserable as Annie was, it was nothing compared to what Tyler was going through. He missed his petite pal so much that, as the time passed, he’d come very close to breaking down and busting in on her—calling her on the way she was treating him.

  In fact one night, late but not quite bedtime, he’d reached such a level of miserable frustration that he’d run up the stairs to go and bang on her apartment door. He’d gotten as far as the entrance to her floor, stopped, and looked through the door’s windowed top half before opening it. He’d arrived just in time to see the elevator door slowly peel back. She’d been leaning on the wall inside, her head nestled against it with her eyes closed. A pair of fancy high-heeled shoes hung from her fingers, and under her arm was a bulging briefcase.

  Weariness oozed from every limb of her small body, from her haggard face to her buckling knees. He’d watched her trudge slowly down the hallway and prop herself against the frame as she searched for her keys to open the door.

  As a witness to her exhaustion, he didn’t have the heart to approach her. Sitting down on the stairs, head cupped in his hands, he’d fought the urges, gathered his dreams, and gone back to his lonely place. Sure, he wanted to look after her, maybe even reverse her transformation to where she would become his happy Annie again, but he knew better. The lady was going through a bad patch. It was her destiny. He had to be patient.

  But it rankled. As furious as he was with her for ignoring their budding romance and not arranging to spend even one evening, or a Saturday or part of a Sunday with him, he just couldn’t tackle anyone who was so obviously worn out. Something had to change. Life was moving on, and he felt as if he’d stepped off its conveyor belt. While everyone else was busy—living and loving, gathering moments, he ran in place like a hamster on a spinning wheel. Rubbing his cheek, he tried to loosen the tension in his jaw.

  His dentist was going to flip out at his next checkup when the examination revealed his latest tendency, grinding his teeth.
It was only one of the more asinine habits he’d initiated for dealing with the situation. His weight loss was another symptom of his despondency. He exercised until exhaustion took over, but his dwindling appetite gave emphasis to how essential it had become for him to straighten out his life.

  Work had escalated for him, also. Maybe it was the full moon or the time of year or just more wackos roaming the neighborhood. He’d had to bring home two fellows last week and another one this week. The transition houses were full to bursting, and the streets kept producing more homeless, helpless misfits.

  One of the boys, who’d told them his name was Joe—obviously not his real name—definitely fit his “keeper” profile. He’d spent a lot of quality hours with the youngster, talking and coaxing, teaching and wheedling. Finally the teen had opted to break from the gang he’d just joined and had allowed Tyler to make arrangements for him to go to an alternative summer camp where they dealt specifically with troubled kids.

  Tyler and the police had tried hard to get Joe to reveal his personal information, but other than to say he wasn’t wanted by anyone, the youngster—maybe thirteen—gave nothing away. His expressive eyes revealed his torturous background quite clearly to Tyler. So he took it easy on the lad and gave up with the constant questions that, truth be told, he really didn’t wish to have answered. To be forced to return him to the hell he’d escaped didn’t bear thinking about, and in many cases, the judge would have had no choice. Too many youngsters were returned to the places they’d run from, but the law had to be followed. Therefore, papers were filed and questions dropped.

  Joe latched on to Tyler so swiftly—an obvious indication of the lack of any sort of kindness in his previous existence—that Tyler struggled especially hard to gain the kid’s trust. They went to a ballgame together and then rented movies, squabbling over titles until Joe believed his coaxing spiel had convinced Tyler to go with his choice.

  After all, who cared about seeing an old classic about gladiators while Transformers, Dark of the Moon was available? The outcome had been obvious to everyone but Joe. Even the owner of the video store, who knew Tyler well, hid his grinning face as Joe proclaimed, in a boisterous bragging voice, that his debating skills were unbeatable.

  Joe was a cool little guy, and Tyler missed him after he put him on the camp bus. Believing the place would be the best thing for the kid didn’t fill the emptiness he now faced at home. Tyler intended checking up on him often. In fact, the cell phone he’d passed to the boy, with instructions to call for any emergency, or at least once a week, turned out to be a genius decision. That is—if the look in Joe’s eyes and the hesitant hug bestowed on Tyler were any indications.

  However, once Joe left, Tyler again had empty hours to fill, and his yearning for Annie’s company kicked in with a vengeance. Mr. Nice Guy was fine and good, but “horney-hell” was becoming too damn uncomfortable.

  Chapter Eighteen

  By the time Annie arrived at the restaurant she was in a happy frame of mind, and it showed. She knew she looked her best. Before leaving the apartment, the mirror she’d checked revealed her dress to be the perfect choice. The soft flounces in the chiffon skirt sat just above the knees, and the draping cowl neck and form-fitting wide satin belt hugged her body, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her perfect proportions were accentuated lovingly, and the amethyst color, changing from light to dark with every movement, suited her better than anything else she’d ever owned.

  A cheeky hairstyle, teased and feathered around her large eyes, set them off, intensifying them, and so did the funky amethyst danglers hanging from her earlobes. Several fashion fringes such as toenail paint, a quick manicure, and a thin golden anklet to match the multitude of bracelets on one arm proclaimed her a classy lady. She glided past the maitre d’ on her glamorous high heels, and the men—and many women—ogled her as she followed the waiter to her table.

  Nigel’s eyes narrowed and one eyebrow rose as he stood while she approached. “Here you are,” he said, grasping her arm possessively.

  “Hello, there. I hope I’m not too late. It was difficult getting a taxi tonight.” She smiled warmly, and each of the two men and two women at the table returned her greeting. The men’s smiles were honest and showed genuine interest, whereas the women’s were solely face movements.

  “It’s going to be a long night,” Annie thought. Why am I here and not with Ty? She took a deep breath, put herself in business mode, and decided that, at the very least, she’d get a wonderful meal out of the ordeal.

  Surprisingly, as the dinner continued, Annie found she was enjoying the evening very much. Pitting her wits against the prominent businessmen at the table evoked her competitive spirit. She knew she impressed them. Even their wives eventually relaxed. After telling her a bit about themselves, it turned out they were both accomplished in their own fields. They, in turn, seemed to be taken in by her sparkling vitality, her knowledge of business standards for employees, and her operational strategies.

  Being able to manage a large workforce and to maintain a high level of production without encountering such problems as days lost due to illness and emotional problems was a huge plus for any company. She held their interest with her innovative approach to solving such dilemmas and swelled with personal pride at knowing these dynamic people were listening to her.

  They were halfway through their delicious seafood dinner when she noticed a new couple arriving and being seated two tables over. The woman was slim, with scads of long straight coppery hair. Dressed in an elegant black pantsuit that probably cost a mint, she personified the words “beautiful female.” From the shape of her, one might assume she spent many hours in the gym. A body like hers took discipline and a lot of upkeep.

  Tyler’s apparel, clothes she’d never seen him wear before, fit him the way a suit should fit a man whose body was made to display clothes. His hair, recently cut, looked as if a product controlled it from its usual disarray, but even as she watched she saw his hand go up and automatically sift through the waves. No sooner had they been settled behind his neck than the mass cascaded forward, framing his face. The resultant untidiness caught at her heart and gave it a big twist.

  What captured Annie’s attention most and had her eyelids twitching, her mouth opening, and her green-eyed monster raging was the fact that Tyler’s arm hugged the female’s waist. He guided and seated her tenderly, as would any infatuated lover. Then he smiled down at her as if he wished he could gobble her up. It was his special half-smile—Annie’s favorite, the one that never failed to trip her heart.

  The closest waiter, who heard the smash as Annie’s hand jerked and sent the bottle of champagne onto the floor, soon swept up the broken glass. Annie’s whole body had gone numb and her expression of disbelief made everyone at her table act concerned.

  Tyler, hearing the glass shatter, turned her way. He nodded. That’s all! He just nodded. The noise had startled his date, also. She glanced over, smirked, and then looked away. From then on, the two had eyes only for each other. Annie confirmed this fact every few seconds, more or less.

  Can a mind scream? Hers could.

  “Calm down, Annie.” The cranky voice could only belong to one guardian angel.

  “Celi, who is she? And why is he holding her hand?”

  “Maybe he’s scared she’ll get up and leave? How the heck should I know? Don’t get goofy about it. You can ask him about her later. You have a job to do now.”

  “I hate my job.”

  “Nah! You’re just upset.”

  “Yes, Celi, I really do.” Did she mean it? Sure sounded as if she did. She needed to think it through, what it meant, but now wasn’t the time.

  Right now, she wanted to feel her hands encircling another woman’s throat and.... She sneaked another peek and watched the flirt stroke her claws—okay, to be honest, manicured fingernails—along Tyler’s cheek, then let them hover over his lips and caress them. Annie’s loud huff of displeasure brought all eyes at her table in he
r direction. Coughing appeared to be her best out from this, and she didn’t realize the hacking might have been a bit too forced and loud.

  Some minutes later, Nigel leaned over and grasped her hand as it pleated her skirt under the table. He gave it a quick tug.

  “All of a sudden you’re very quiet, Annie. Don’t fret about the accident. I’m sure things get broken regularly. Now what were we talking about?” Nigel’s fake look of concern covered his anger. She realized she was letting down her end of the ongoing discussion, but somehow what they were debating didn’t seem to be so important anymore. At least not to Annie.

  “Nigel, I’m sure everyone here has had enough of business for the evening and would love to discuss something a bit more entertaining. Has anyone been to a good play lately?” Her tone was curt, giving no leeway. It sounded very similar to his, though neither of them appeared to be aware of that fact.

  There was a deadly silence after her words of rebuke. But being a gentleman, Nigel concurred, and in a slightly haughty voice, he replied, “Of course, as you wish. Have any of you seen the latest on Broadway?”

  The change of subject lightened the atmosphere, but it didn’t leave her any time to think about her heart breaking and her life falling apart. She strove hard to cover up her faux pas in upstaging her boss and hoped no one else noticed anything amiss.

  Once the waiter appeared with a new vintage, her glass was refilled, and the latest bubbly tasted even better. As the evening progressed she became louder and freer. Her giggles and high spirits broke through the reserve of the others, and pretty soon the noise level at their table had risen to where the nearby customers spent time watching their happy group, tantalized by Annie’s husky laugh.

  Not once did she catch Tyler’s gaze searching her out after his first acknowledgement. About an hour or so later, he paid the bill, rose to leave, and snaked his arm gently around his date’s waist.

 

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