Sinclair was probably back between the sheets with the dreaded Diana, eagerly awaiting the arrival of his firstborn. She stared up at the ceiling, where cobwebs had formed around the 1970s light fixture, and tried not to miss her peaceful bedroom back in Dog Harbor, with the trees rustling outside and the call of owls in the early morning. That was all in the past and it was up to her to make her own future now. Tomorrow she’d enroll for fall courses at the community college. She had ample savings that she’d been piling up to build her little dream house, and she could live on them for some time, even if it meant eating her own dream for a while.
She really didn’t want to know what was going on with Sinclair and his ex. He’d flown back to her without a moment’s hesitation, which plainly showed how shallow and insignificant any feelings he had for Annie truly were. After all, he freely admitted to barely noticing her until she put the Victorian dress on. What he felt for her was obviously no more than temporary lust, easily forgotten once the heat of the moment wore off.
The mattress springs screeched as she climbed out of her bed. Sunlight poured unceremoniously through the ugly nylon curtains with their garish flowers. She’d grown used to the subtle and textured décor of the very rich, and now she’d probably be cursed with expensive tastes for the rest of her life.
She wasn’t going to sit around waiting for life to happen. She splashed water on her face at the sink and patted her skin dry. She was going to make it happen. Maybe she wouldn’t take the world by storm like the kind of women Sinclair was attracted to, but she’d forge her own dreams into reality, one little bit at a time.
“Do we get any of those dreamy eggs you’re so good at?” Her dad’s voice boomed up the stairs. She laughed. No chance of a day off here. Unlike Sinclair’s house, where she was alone much of the time, she’d have a constant source of “clients” for her well-honed culinary skills. At least that would give her something useful to do, instead of hanging around moping in her old room.
“Coming!” She dressed quickly and went downstairs, but when she got to the kitchen, no one was around. They’d show up soon enough once cooking smells filled the air. She cracked some eggs into a bowl and heated the pan, then peeled some strips of bacon off the big slab from the butcher and put them in to sizzle.
Sinclair didn’t like bacon, and she’d gone off it, too, since living in his house. Which was all the more reason to start eating it again.
You came here to leave Sinclair behind and move on. She slapped the cooked bacon onto a plate and tipped eggs into the hot pan. Sinclair would never eat eggs fried in bacon grease.
Why was she still thinking about him? Frustration made her growl aloud, and she racked her brain for something else to focus on. She should think about her future. What kind of job she’d actually like to do, instead of rushing to take whatever came first. Maybe she should work in someone else’s store to see if owning her own was really a good dream to hold on to. She flipped the eggs over. The truth was she didn’t know what she wanted.
Sinclair had probably forgotten all about her. Easy come, easy go. She’d certainly been easy in every way, as far as he was concerned. Every silly magazine article she’d read on the subject said that was a bad idea. Men weren’t interested in what was readily available. They’d rather chase after the unattainable. But she had no self-control where Sinclair was concerned.
“Why can’t I stop thinking about Sinclair?” Her words echoed off the kitchen walls.
“Because you’re in love with him?” Her sister Sheena’s voice made her whirl around. She hadn’t told anyone, especially Sheena, about her romantic misadventures.
“I am not.”
“Are, too.” Her sister lolled in the doorway with a big smirk on her face. “You’re so secretive, but I’ve learned to see past your cool expression.”
“Why do I feel like I’m thirteen again?” Her big sister always had a superior attitude.
“I have no idea. What I hate is that you still look like you’re thirteen. You need more stress in your life.”
“Trust me, I have more than enough.” She turned the eggs out onto a plate. “Why don’t you take some breakfast and leave me alone.” She moved to the door and called out, “It’s ready.”
“Nah. I’ll take some breakfast and keep hounding you.” She picked up a plate and helped herself to some bacon. “So, is he hot?”
Annie crossed her arms. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. You were talking about him when I came in.” Her sister’s smirk broadened. “So don’t try and pretend there isn’t anyone. Isn’t your boss called Sinclair?”
“He was.”
“Then he changed his name to Spike?” Her sister lifted a brow in that infuriating way.
“No. He’s still called Sinclair. He’s just not my boss anymore.” Her stomach dropped a little as she said it. She still couldn’t believe her life had turned upside down in such a short time. The loss of her job hadn’t sunk in at all, even though it was her who’d quit.
“So, you’re in love with him, but he doesn’t love you.” Sheena picked up a piece of crispy bacon in her fingers and bit it.
“Something like that,” she muttered. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“You were talking about it before I came in, so I think you need to get it off your chest. Is he in love with someone else?”
“No. I don’t think he’s ever been in love with anyone and I don’t think he ever will be.” She said it with clear conviction that suddenly flooded her brain. “He’s been married twice and I don’t think he loved either of his wives. I think he was just looking for the right package. I think his whole life is about trying to be organized, efficient and perfect. I don’t think he’s capable of emotions at all.” Her own feelings clawed at her insides.
“Damn. I wasn’t sure you were, either, but now I’m beginning to see different.” Sheena crunched another piece of bacon. “I always envied you your independence.”
“I used to enjoy my independence.” Her voice cracked. “And I hope I’ll enjoy it again once I get him out of my mind.”
“What does he look like?” Her sister lolled in the door frame, munching on her bacon like it was popcorn at the movies.
“What does it matter?” She sat at the table and tried to summon the appetite to eat.
“Is he tall, dark and handsome, by any chance?”
“Yes. Of course.” She managed to swallow a bite of eggs. “He’s gorgeous.”
“Broad shoulders? Tight ass?”
“Go away.”
“Does he dress like a preppy country-club type?”
“Yes.” She frowned. “How did you know that?”
“Well, I’m describing the guy who’s out on the front stoop sweet-talking Granny Pat.” She walked in and scooped an egg onto her plate. “Mmm, nice and greasy. Just the way I like ’em.”
Annie froze. “What?”
“Bacon grease. Really makes the eggs taste good.”
“No. I mean, what did you say about someone talking to Granny?” She could hardly get the words out. She realized she was gripping her knife and fork like weapons.
“This dude drove up in a big shiny car. Asked if an Annie Sullivan lives here.” Her sister pretended to be engrossed in her egg.
Annie rose to her feet, almost knocking her chair to the ground. “He’s looking for me?”
“Yeah.” Sheena chewed slowly, while Annie’s blood pressure rose. “He had the address, but you know how our house has no number on it.”
Annie raced out of the kitchen. Heart in her throat, she opened the front door and walked out onto the porch. Granny Pat and Sinclair both swiveled to watch her. Her eyes met Sinclair’s.
He walked toward her. In a white shirt, open at the collar, and dark pants, he looked dashing and elegant, in stark contrast to the dreary street with its peeling houses and rusting minivans. “Thank God I found you.”
His deep voice rocked her
and his words chased her soul. He sounded like a lover who’d searched to the ends of the earth for his one and only.
Except that she knew better. “I couldn’t stay. Not after the second time.”
“This young man has traveled nonstop from California to see you.” Granny Pat smiled at him. “Wasn’t even sure if you’d be here.”
Curiosity pricked her. Sinclair climbed the porch steps in an athletic stride. He stopped just short of her and she could feel the tension radiating off his body. She felt strangely calm. She’d already walked away from him and from their whole affair—you couldn’t even call it an affair—and resolved to get on with her life. His sudden appearance on her family’s doorstep seemed surreal.
His brows lowered. “I made a terrible mistake.”
“Only one?” So cool, her comment seemed to have come from someone else’s mouth. Maybe she was angry. Six years of pining followed by two weeks of the greatest pleasure and cruelest torture she could imagine. It could leave any girl on edge.
“I missed you.”
I missed you, too. She didn’t say it. She hadn’t really had the luxury of missing him. She’d been too busy scrambling to reorient her life and figure out what to do next. She knew that if she stopped to think about the life she’d left behind everything would rise up and overwhelm her, so she’d kept her mind and hands busy every minute since she left.
“I couldn’t believe you were gone.”
“You thought I would just put up with anything you threw at me? I’m pretty tough, but you going back to your ex-wife was too much for me. Not that we had a relationship or anything. I didn’t have a chance to develop that illusion.” She’d never enjoyed the luxury of thinking she and Sinclair had a future for an entire twenty-four hours. The harsh light of dawn had always managed to dissolve her dream into a mist of memory and regret.
His brow furrowed. “I shouldn’t have gone. I should have stayed with you.”
“But you didn’t.” She didn’t want to hear his apology. It didn’t mean anything now. Whatever they’d shared—so briefly—was over and gone forever. “Everything happens for a reason.” His ex must have told him she wasn’t interested in getting back together—otherwise he’d probably still be there, trying to do the “honorable thing.”
“Diana only wanted money. The baby isn’t mine. She had done a DNA test, so she didn’t lie about that, but she did lie when she said the baby was mine. The test proved it isn’t. I left for the airport as soon as I heard, and I had my mom and Vicki track down your old résumé with your home address on it. You told me your family still lived here and I hoped I’d find you here.”
She nodded. Of course. Still, a sliver of pain did prick her. Not so much for her own frustrated longing, but that Sinclair had once again tried to form a bond and been rejected.
Then she wanted to curse herself for caring. What about her own feelings? No one cared about those.
“I have feelings for you, Annie.”
His sudden response to her thoughts touched a raw place inside her.
“I’ve always had feelings for you, Sinclair. They’ve brought me nothing but pain.”
Emotion flickered over his chiseled features. “I know I’m to blame. I’ve been blind for so long.”
She wanted to agree with him. But what would that accomplish? The pained expression in his eyes tugged at her heartstrings. Even now, after everything that had happened, she ached to run into his arms and tell him how happy she was to see him. He’d come all the way to Connecticut to find her. And apparently to reveal his true feelings for her.
But why? Would he beg her to come back and jump between the sheets with him? Or did he need her to take care of his house and his mother? She had no intention of doing either. “What do you want from me, Sinclair?”
Annie bit her lip and steeled herself to say no to whatever he hoped to talk her into.
Sinclair reached into the pocket of his pants. Annie’s eyes grew wider as he pulled out a large, sparkling ring.
Annie felt her legs grow wobbly. Surely he wasn’t…?
He was going to propose. Thoughts swirled around Annie’s mind like hurricane-force winds. Years of idle dreaming and foolish fantasy were coalescing in this crazy moment on the front porch. The man of her dreams held a sparkling diamond the size of a muscatel grape and was about to ask her to be his wife.
And she was about to say no.
With an expression of intense concentration, Sinclair held the ring between his thumb and forefinger. She heard his intake of breath as he looked up to meet her eyes. “Annie, will you marry me?”
Eleven
The ring felt hard and sharp between Sinclair’s finger and thumb. The sun, high overhead, hit its faceted surface, throwing out daggers of light. His words hung in the air as the seconds stretched out and he waited for her response.
Not the smile he’d hoped for. Nor the sigh, or the embarrassed laugh. Instead, his beautiful Annie looked…pained.
“Maybe you two need some privacy.” Her grandmother’s voice penetrated the slight fog of disbelief that accompanied her lack of response. Her broad chin lowered its tilt slightly. Then her cheerful expression darkened and she peered at Annie. “Is there something I should know?” She gave a pointed look at Annie’s waist.
“No!” Annie’s lightning-fast response made his neurons snap. Her abrupt refusal felt like a slap, and a response to his proposal, even though she was only replying to her grandmother’s question. “Let’s go inside.” She didn’t look at him.
Still holding the ring, he followed her through the front door. Another girl about Annie’s age stood nearby, but Annie didn’t introduce her. She walked down the hallway and he followed her into a large living room with high ceilings. She gestured for him to sit, and he lowered himself onto the worn, overstuffed sofa. She sat on an armchair about ten feet away, and the distance between them felt wide as Long Island Sound.
The ring stuck out, still throbbing with light, a sore thumb of frustrated hope and wounded feelings. “You must think my proposal is premature, because we haven’t really…dated.”
“Yes, that’s true.” She blinked. Her expression was blank, as if she didn’t feel any of the emotion that crashed and sloshed around in him like the ocean in a gale. “You don’t really know me.”
“But I do.” Hope surged in his chest at the chance to explain himself. “I’ve known you for six years. I feel closer to you after that one night we spent together than to anyone else in my life. Surely you feel the connection between us.”
He saw emotion light her blue eyes. “Yes, I felt it.” She frowned. “But that doesn’t mean we’re meant to be together. We don’t have anything in common. If I wasn’t your employee we’d never have even met.”
“We have a lot in common.” He spoke quietly. “It’s my fault for being oblivious to it for years, but I can see now that we look at the world in a very similar way.”
“I guess that’s why I’ve done such a good job of running your house the way you like it.” He wanted to agree heartily, but the way she said it sounded more like an accusation than an agreement.
“I don’t want you to run my house anymore. I want you to run my life.”
Her eyes widened. “Like a glorified personal assistant?”
“No.” Frustration ripped through him. Why was he such a disaster when it came to matters of the heart? A bull in a china shop was subtle by comparison. “I want you to be my life partner, my constant companion…my soul mate.”
She sat there, so sad and still. The surface of her eyes suggested emotion traveling behind them, but her face revealed nothing. “You can’t become someone’s soul mate. If we were soul mates we’d have realized it a long time ago.”
He closed his fist around the ring and squeezed until the facets dug into his palm. He cursed himself for being an idiot. How had he managed to live for six years with the perfect woman under his roof—or at least one of his roofs—and not realized she was the one he�
�d been waiting for?
Instead he’d been dating—and marrying—people who were all wrong.
“Never mind the mumbo jumbo about soul mates.” He leaned forward, urgency spurring his muscles. “I want you, Annie. Something deep inside me, I don’t know what it’s called—” He thumped his chest with his clenched fist, driving the ring harder against his hurting flesh. “Something tells me I need you. I don’t want to go home without you.” His words rang with all the raw emotion that soaked through him, and he prayed she’d feel the urgency and truth of his words.
A sudden tear sparkled in one of her eyes, filled her lower lid for a moment, then dropped across her cheek. His chest ached. Had he hurt her further with all his declarations?
She still said nothing.
“What is it, Annie? Have I said the wrong thing?” He heard his own voice crack.
“We’re from totally different backgrounds. As you can see.” She made a wooden gesture indicating the room. Her voice sounded flat. Only her eyes betrayed any emotion beneath the surface.
“Our backgrounds aren’t important at all. All my life I’ve tried to make a relationship work with women from backgrounds identical to mine, and look how that turned out. Where you come from doesn’t matter. It’s what you want to accomplish in your life, how you want to live it and who you want to share it with that counts.”
Her eyes were dry, that single tear now only a bright trail across her cheek. She stared at him for a moment without blinking. Then she looked away, past him. “It wouldn’t work.”
“Why not?” He sprang to his feet. Why couldn’t he make her see sense?
Annie looked at him quietly for a moment. “Because you don’t love me.”
Her words dropped like a stone to his heart. Had he said all these things, even asked her to marry him, without once telling her that he loved her?
The Cinderella Act Page 14