A Season for Second Chances(73)

“I love you, Annie,” Max whispered as he expertly undid her bra with one hand. “Say you’ll come back to me. Say you love me too.”

His words pulled her up short. Annie’s brain reemerged from the thick fog of nostalgia and her ache for physical contact. What am I doing? she screamed at herself. What the fuck am I doing? There was no such thing as just a shag when Max was on a mission.

“Stop,” said Annie, trying to wriggle out from Max’s tentacle-like embrace. The fire running through her veins turned to ice. She felt sick, angry at herself for being so stupid.

“Don’t fight it, Annie,” Max whispered, pushing her further down onto the sofa.

She was suffocating beneath his kisses; his body on hers felt like a concrete blanket and she fought against him.

“I mean it!” said Annie. With limbs flailing, like a beetle on its back, she extricated herself from beneath Max and pulled herself up to standing. “This isn’t going to happen.”

She pulled her jeans back on and threw his top at him.

“Annie, baby, come on. You know you want this as much as I do.”

Annie was struggling with her hands behind her back, trying to refasten her bra. She gave up and stood, slightly breathless, with her hands on her hips, at once exhilarated and disgusted but entirely certain that she was doing the right thing.

“I want a divorce,” she said. “And I want you to buy me out of the restaurant and I want my half of the Pomegranate Seed building and the house. And I want you to unlock our joint account right bloody now! I’m entitled to it and I want it. This was a mistake.”

Max sat half up on the sofa, blinking in the half light. “I haven’t got that kind of money.” He was trying to play the victim, but it came off as whiny.

“There’s no mortgage on the restaurant building,” Annie went on; suddenly she had all the answers. She wondered idly if this was what an epiphany felt like. “You won’t have any trouble taking one out on it. And if that doesn’t cover the whole cost, you can ask your parents.”

“They haven’t . . .”

“This is me, remember, Max, I know they’ve got it, just sitting in a bank account, waiting for you.”

“That’s my inheritance!”

“As long as it’s yours, it doesn’t really matter when you get it, does it?”

“They’ll never agree.”

“Then it’s up to you to persuade them. You’re good at that. I’ll make an appointment to see my solicitor and get it all drawn up. I’m not asking for anything that isn’t already mine. My inheritance bought that place, and it’s only right that I get at least half of it back.”

Max, realizing she meant business, was gathering up his jacket and stuffing the photograph albums back into the bags.

“You can leave those for now,” said Annie. “I’ll sort through them and make copies.”

“I’m sure,” said Max. “Maybe you’d like to take the shirt off my back while you’re at it, since you seem determined to take me to the cleaners and destroy everything I’ve worked for.”

“Everything we’ve worked for, Max. And I’m not asking for anything that doesn’t already belong to me.”

Max wasn’t listening. He was clutching the bags to his chest as though trying to cover his modesty, while managing to look shocked and hurt as he backed away from her. Max yanked open the door to the flat.

“And don’t forget the account!” Annie shouted. “I want my sodding money!”

As soon as Max realized his victim act wasn’t going to wash with Annie, his demeanor changed.

“I’ll see myself out,” he said. And then leaning in close to her face, he growled, “You’re a bitch,” before slamming the door behind him.

Annie swiftly locked the door and listened to his heavy footsteps descending the stairs. After the front door had been pulled shut with an almighty and unnecessary bang, Annie crept downstairs and pulled the latch and chain across the door before scurrying back up to the flat and collapsing on the sofa. She wasn’t sure if she believed in an afterlife, but if it was possible for deceased loved ones to influence the living, Annie would put money on her parents lending her their strength from beyond the grave just then. It felt like a breakthrough; she would never have stood her ground like that before, not that she wasn’t a trembling like a leaf right now, but most of that was exhilaration. Today had been a day of remembrance, but it had been a momentous day too.





Chapter 58



Oh my God!” Gemma exclaimed. “Thank goodness you didn’t sleep with him.”

It was book club night and the women were discussing Lady Audley’s Secret by Elizabeth Braddon; or at least, they were supposed to be. So far, Annie’s close encounter with Max had rather eclipsed the naughtiness of Lucy Audley. Every time they got back on track, something would bring them back round to Annie again.

“Annie is reinventing herself like Lady Audley,” said Maeve.

“Without the child abandonment, faked death, and attempted murder,” added Sally.

“Imagine if you’d had sex with him.” Gemma was off on her own tangent. “You might have given all this up and gone back to Max.”

“That would never have happened,” said Annie. “It was a momentary lapse, which actually ended up crystallizing what needed to be done. I think I just felt a bit wobbly, what with the day it was and everything, and Max was being all let’s take a trip down memory lane. It was just so familiar and comforting, I suppose.”