Before I Melt Away

by Isabel Sharpe

  Not knowing if Stefanie and her baby were okay was killing her. The guilt that even in some tiny way she might have caused the problem was killing her. The un-professionalism of walking out on Adolph Fox on her first day there was killing her. Not really caring was killing her more. Not being able to see Quinn was killing her triple.

  Frankly, this was not her best day.

  She raced into the E.R., questioned the nurse on duty, found out Stefanie was up in Labor and Delivery, and made her way to the adjacent building. Good that Stefanie wasn’t still in the E.R. Bad that she was still in the hospital. Down the corridor into the elevator up to the sixth floor, out and to the right as directed.

  Incredibly, she bumped into Frank and Stefanie just leaving the unit, Stefanie walking on her own steam, both of them smiling at a piece of paper as if it were the Holy Grail.

  Oh, thank God. Annabel stopped and put a hand to the wall to support her body’s wilt into relief. This did not look like a couple who had just lost a baby. Oh, thank God.

  “Annabel.” Stefanie stared in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “Frank called me.” She glanced at him and noted his averted-eyes mortification. Apparently he’d overreacted. She didn’t care. All she cared about was that Stefanie was okay. Which sort of amazed and delighted her, because she’d just blown off the biggest career move of her life, and this proved it had been the right decision. Otherwise, she’d have wanted to remove Frank’s dialing finger with a blunt instrument.

  “You called her? Why on earth did you call her?” Stefanie practically shrieked at her husband. “Frank…she’s my boss.”

  Frank opened his mouth, stared at the floor, scratched his short punky hair. “I thought she—”

  “I’m your friend, Stefanie. Frank knew I’d want to know if there was any danger.”

  Stefanie’s eyes narrowed. “There wasn’t any danger. I have anemia which is why I’ve been so tired. And when I saw the bleeding, which turned out to be nothing, I had an anxiety attack and fainted. Frank sort of—”

  “I freaked out.” He met Annabel’s eyes with his long-lashed dark ones. “I thought she was miscarrying, or something worse. Everyone did. I lost it. I’m sorry.”

  “Please don’t tell me you came back from Chicago for this.” Stefanie’s expression clearly indicated torture in store for Frank if the answer was yes.

  “No. I was done.” More true than they realized.

  “Whew.” Stefanie smiled and extended the piece of paper she and Frank had been gazing at. “This is our baby.”

  Annabel peered at the grainy white-and-gray blob and tried very hard to figure out what part of it could possibly be a baby. “Wow. That’s…wow.”

  “We saw the heartbeat and everything. Imagine, something that small and already its heart is beating.” Stefanie blinked back tears and Frank put his arm around her and squeezed tight, looking as if he was about to join her crying.

  Annabel took in a sharp breath and held it against a sudden powerful longing. She wanted this. A man who loved her so much he was willing to lose his mind and shout accusations at someone he barely knew. A baby that was part of both of them, that would bind them into a family, the warm, loving unit that Annabel herself had grown up in and Quinn still needed to experience.

  “I’m…sorry I didn’t tell you sooner I was pregnant.” Stefanie bit her lip, sharing her husband’s previous fascination with the floor.

  Annabel glanced at Frank, then warmly at the top of Stefanie’s head. “I think I know why you didn’t. But it’s wonderful news. We’ll need to talk about maternity leave. Oh, and maybe you can leave the baby with Kathy across the street while you’re at work. If…you want to keep working.”

  “You’re not going to close the business now that you’re with Mr. Fox?”

  Annabel smiled, took a deep breath of antiseptic hospital air and spoke the words she’d probably known were true the day she walked out of Quinn’s apartment and left him behind, thinking she’d seen the end of their relationship.

  Which, unbelievably, was only yesterday.

  “I won’t be working for Mr. Fox.”

  There. She had said it. And the hospital hadn’t jarred and rumbled and fallen to the ground in a cloud of ash and cement and steel. The sun was still shining. Or most likely it was—there wasn’t a window in sight here.

  More importantly, a wave of joy swelled so big inside her she felt like the Grinch, his new big-sized heart busting out the sides of the magnifying glass. Or Scrooge, coming home from his visits with the three spirits to realize he still had a future ahead to live so much more wisely and warmly than his past.

  She hugged Stefanie, shook Frank’s big hand awkwardly and accepted the apology in his eyes. She didn’t blame him. From now on Annabel was going to be different. Different! She wished them both a Merry Christmas and hurried down the corridor, barely resisting the urge to kick up her heels.

  Out of the hospital, into the sunny chill of a beautiful Christmas Eve afternoon. Christmas! She drove toward home as fast as she could without risking a ticket, then impulsively turned into the Sentry parking lot. Ten minutes later, she emerged with wrapping paper, gift tags and a large fresh turkey and piled it into the back of her van.

  Home.

  She drove into the garage and hefted the bird and wrapping items to her back door, burst into her house and immediately hated the emptiness and the chill.

  First things first. She turned the heat way up, then took off her coat, picked up the phone and called her cousin.

  “Linda, it’s Annabel.”

  “Annabel!” She sounded as if she was happier to hear from Annabel than anything that had ever happened to her.

  “I’d love to come to your party tomorrow, if the invitation still stands.”

  “You—” Linda broke off, apparently unable to cope with the shock. Then she whispered something, probably to Evan. Perhaps instructing him to contact a psychiatrist.

  Annabel grinned. Ha! Take that! She was transformed! Into a warm bundle of Christmas pudding. And once she called Quinn, that Christmas pudding would have rum poured over it and be set alight.

  “We’d love to have you, darling. I’m so pleased you’ll be coming!”

  “See you at four?”

  “Yes. Annabel, I’m really looking forward to it.”

  “Me, too.” She giggled as she hung up, surprised to find it was really the truth. Oh, this felt so good.

  Next call. She rummaged through her address book and came up with the sheet of neighbor phone numbers. Kathy…whatever her last name was. She scanned the list. Kathy…and Joseph Jablonski. There. Dialing…

  “Kathy, it’s Annabel. I’m calling to see if you still need a replacement turkey tonight at the block party.”

  “Well, we were going to do fine without it, but it’s always such a nice centerpiece. Why?”

  “It’s already bought, I’ll get it in the oven this second.”

  “Well…I…” Kathy finally managed to splutter out her surprised thanks and Annabel grinned.

  “You’re welcome. It’s the least I can do.”

  She rang off the phone, then hurried into the kitchen. There she trussed the turkey, rubbed it with butter, olive oil and herbes de Provence, stuffed it with onions and lemons and more herbs, then got it into the preheated oven. Done. What next?

  Too late to shop for her clients, but she knew a site where she could send e-cards with gift certificates they could redeem from any of a large number of merchants. Why hadn’t she thought of doing this before?

  Because she hadn’t met Quinn yet. Because she’d been a one-track automaton, full only of herself and her own goals. Because the milk of human kindness had only just started flowing. Of course since this next out-pouring was for her clients, she had to provide regular, low-fat, skim, lactose-free and soy.

  She burst into her office, imagining the walls blue, turned on her computer, sent the cards and certificates to all her clients and shut the
machine down. Her eyes lit on an old message that had gotten wedged into the corner of her keyboard tray. What was this? Ah! The organization that had wanted her to do cooking demonstrations for kids. Of course she’d do it. She’d be glad to do it. It would be a blast.

  She called and left a message, then rummaged in her purse for the right business card, called Bob’s fiancée, Karen, wished her a very merry Christmas and said she was ready to go ahead with the Web site design after the holiday.

  Okay.

  Now. She took a deep breath. Stood. Sat. Stood again.

  The most important part of making things right.

  Quinn.

  She’d left him a nervous message earlier, when she had first heard from Frank and was on her way back to Milwaukee. Somewhat ominously, he hadn’t called back, though she’d left it open that he could call her Christmas Day. Maybe he was busy with his mother. Maybe he hadn’t checked his messages. Maybe he decided he was done with her and her c’mere, c’mere, go away, go away attitude.

  Well, that was all in the past. She wanted him to c’mere forever. She wanted to find a way they could forge some kind of relationship around their busy schedules. She wanted…him.

  She grabbed her phone again, dialed his cell number. Left another message and hung up feeling deflated and a little nervous. Well, of course being able to reach him, having him say yes, I love you, come to me now my darling, would be the perfect climax to her personal epiphany, but life had a way of screwing up perfect moments with its own plans, didn’t it.

  Okay. She could…well, what? Tomorrow was Christmas. She wanted to give him something, even if it would be a day or two late. Just having something wrapped under the tree tomorrow that would eventually belong to him would bring him closer. She wanted to give him her for Christmas, but she didn’t think express delivery would take her to Maine overnight.

  For a crazy second she thought of flying up to see him, but all she knew was that his mother lived in Hartland, and it was very possible she wouldn’t welcome Annabel busting up her chance to celebrate a holiday with her only child.

  So. What? She had a couple of hours until the turkey was ready. Stores were open. Maybe she could still find the perfect gift.

  Two hours later, she came back from Mayfair Mall with baby clothes for Stefanie and Frank. Nothing remotely right enough for Quinn, darn it. She’d just have to talk to him. Right now it was time to take the turkey out, let it rest, then go the block party.

  Turkey out, oven off, she went upstairs for a quick shower and changed into black linen pants and a red sweater. What more? She suddenly remembered a miniature Christmas-tree pin her father had given her, which she hadn’t worn in years, and managed to find it in an old jewelry box. Perfect. And?

  She had just opened the bottom drawer of the beautiful tortoiseshell miniature dresser in search of a pair of faux-diamond-and-gold earrings, when into her head clicked the absolutely perfect gift idea for Quinn.

  A FEW MINUTES before twelve, Annabel left the block party. To her complete and utter surprise, she’d had a really nice time, if she didn’t count the fact that her insides were being regularly seared with longing for Quinn. But her neighbors were very friendly and interesting people. She’d even gotten a few possible requests for her services. What did they say about finding happiness in your own backyard? Maybe she needed to concentrate less on the wealthy and more on average working moms. Devise some budget menus and see how those flew. She kind of liked the idea of being a local champion of the working mother. Maybe that would be a nice angle to try.

  Snow had started falling earlier in the evening, and already about an inch covered the ground, six to eight total expected by morning, according to the guests at the party.

  A nearby church bell started to chime midnight. It was Christmas. She let herself into the chilly dark foyer through her front door, thinking how Adolph Fox and his world seemed so far away. And damn it, so did Quinn. Maybe she should call him again. Just to see if—

  She pushed open the inner door into her living room and froze.

  Her tree glowed beautiful colors in the dark living room. She was sure she hadn’t turned it on before she left. A beautiful blazing fire provided the only other light. She was quite sure she hadn’t built that.

  “Merry Christmas, Annabel.”

  Her ears registered him first, then her breath, catching in her throat, and her heart, racing to impossible speeds. Then her muscles kicked in. She turned and her eyes got the best present she could possibly, possibly have.

  “I kept this.” Quinn walked over to her and pushed a copy of her house key into her hand. “You should have it back.”

  She shook her head. “You keep it.”

  His brows went up. “For?”

  “For when you visit me?”

  “How often will that be possible?”

  “Whenever you can. I’ll be here.”

  His eyes lit with hope. “What about Adolph?”

  “No more Adolph.” The words sounded so good. “It’s not what I really wanted.”

  “What do you really want?” He put his hands to her waist, drew her close, so much warmth and what she damn well hoped was love on his face, that she could barely speak.

  “I really want you to open your present.”

  He looked a little startled, not that she could blame him. “Okay.”

  She darted to the tree, picked up his present and stopped in her tracks. A new ornament hung on a prominent branch, the one she had made for him all those years ago. “You kept this?”

  “Yes.” He grinned the grin she’d missed like mad, the one that made him look so boyish and full of life. “Does that tell you something?”

  “I think so.” She handed him his present, suddenly understanding what people meant when they said their hearts were in their throats. “My turn to tell you something.”

  He slid off the wrapping paper and looked questioningly at the dresser. “Back at me?”

  “Open it.”

  “Keys?”

  “Not locked.”

  “All the drawers the same?”

  “All different.”

  He watched her carefully, trying to get into her mind with his patented Quinn ability. “Is my fate being decided here?”

  “I hope so,” she whispered.

  He gazed at her a second longer, then opened the bottom drawer, took out a tiny green Christmas tree she’d cut from a gift tag and folded, which opened to show the word You.

  “Me?”

  “Open more.”

  Top drawer next, a red-and-white Santa with the word I written on his hat.

  “I…you.” He tapped on the middle drawer. “Does this have the word want in it?”

  She shook her head, trying to keep the nerves and excitement off her face.

  “Need?”

  “No.”

  “Maim?”

  She laughed. “Oh, no.”

  He pulled open the drawer and took out the gold star. He stared at it for a long, long time, then put it down carefully and pulled her into his arms. “I love you, too, Annabel. I have for a very long time.”

  He kissed her. The kisses turned wild and passionate and they undressed each other, sank to the floor and made slow, beautiful, languid love facing each other on their sides, toe to toe, cheek to cheek and everything in between, firelight dancing over their bodies, the tile couples no doubt looking on approvingly.

  Afterward, she lay in his arms, happier than she could ever remember being, not even minding the rough rug under her. They might not be able to see a lot of each other, but when they did, they’d make every second count.

  Quinn stroked her hair and cleared his throat. “I’ve decided to turn the Milwaukee building into an R and D facility.”

  “Oh?” She murmured the word sleepily into his chest, her other senses so full of him she barely registered the words.

  “And I’m going to give up being CEO and move to Milwaukee to run it.”

  “Mmm—
huh?” She launched herself off his chest and stared at his gorgeous face in the firelight. “You are?”

  He grinned at her. “Yes.”

  “You’re changing your entire life for me?”

  “Yes. And because it’s what I want. Did you change yours for me?”

  “Yes.” She laughed, put her hands to her temples, hardly able to believe it. Quinn would be here. They’d have time for each other. Time to see if this relationship would turn into forever as much as she felt in her bones it would. “And because it’s what I wanted for me, too.”

  He pulled her back down beside him. “I never thought I’d have the luxury of asking you this, Annabel. But what do you want to do tomorrow? Besides make love in more positions than those fireplace guys could ever dream of?”

  “Hmm.” She glanced out the window at the snow still coming down. “Maybe we could go out and make a snowman?”

  “Frosty?”

  “Siegfried.”

  He chuckled. “Let’s run and have some fun now?”

  “Yes.” She reached to his face, kissed him, feeling the love and passion flaring again between them, feeling with every bone in her body that it always would. “Before we melt away.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-6684-5

  BEFORE I MELT AWAY

  Copyright © 2004 by Muna Shehadi Sill.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.