Match Me If You Can (Chicago Stars #6)(39)

“People are finally getting used to me.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t easy.” For a while Annabelle had wanted it to be hard, wanted her old lover to suffer, but she didn’t feel that way now. Now she simply wanted to forget.

The woman who’d once been her fiancé gazed at her across the table. “I just wish that…”

“Don’t say it.”

“You were my best friend, Annabelle. I want that back.”

The old bitterness resurfaced. “I know you do, but you can’t have it.”

“Would it help if I told you I’m not sexually attracted to you anymore? Apparently the hormones have done a job on me. For the first time in my life, I’ve started to look at men. Very strange.”

“Tell me about it.”

Rosemary laughed, and Annabelle managed a smile in return, but as much as she wished Rosemary well, she couldn’t be her confidante. Their relationship had robbed her of too much. Not only had she lost trust in her ability to judge people, but she’d also lost her sexual confidence. What kind of loser could be in an intimate relationship for so long without suspecting that something was seriously askew?

Her pancakes arrived. Rosemary rose and regarded her sadly. “I’ll let you eat in peace. It’s been good seeing you.”

The most Annabelle could manage in return was a quiet “Good luck.”



Do you get invited to many of Phoebe and Dan’s parties?” Heath asked a few hours later as he steered his BMW into the long, wooded drive that led to the Calebow home. A hawk circled in the afternoon sun above the old orchard to their right, where the apples were just beginning to turn red.

“A few,” she replied. “But, then, Phoebe likes me.”

“Go ahead and laugh, but it’s not funny to me. I’ve lost some great clients because of this.”

“I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you it’s nice having you at my mercy for a change.”

“Don’t enjoy it too much. I’m trusting you not to screw this up.”

She was afraid she already had. She should have been up front with him about today’s affair, but she always got pigheaded when workaholics started ordering her around, another legacy from her childhood.

The tires clattered on a narrow wooden bridge. They rounded a bend, and an old stone farmhouse came into sight. Build in the 1880s, the Calebow property was a rustic gem in an area of affluent suburban sprawl. Dan had bought the house in his bachelor days, and as their family had grown, he and Phoebe had added wings, raised the roof, and expanded the grounds. The end result was a charming ramble of a house perfect for a family with four growing children.

Heath parked in the drive next to Molly’s SUV, which had Tigger sunshades suction-cupped to the glass. He shifted his weight and tucked his keys in the hip pocket of his khaki slacks. He wore them with a designer polo and another of his TAG Heuer watches, this one with a brown crocodile strap. Annabelle felt a little underdressed in gray knit drawstring shorts, aqua tank top, and J. Crew flip-flops.

She saw the exact moment when he spotted the multitude of pink balloons tied to the spindled railing that surrounded the old-fashioned front porch.

He turned to her slowly, a python uncoiling for the strike. “Exactly what kind of party is this?”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and tried to look adorable. “Uh, funny you should ask…”

His grim green eyes belatedly reminded Annabelle that he had no sense of humor when it came to business. Not that she’d exactly forgotten it.

“No bullshit, Annabelle. Tell me right now what’s going on.”

He’d trample her if she tried to stage a retreat, so she attempted a chipper sort of savoir faire. “Relax and enjoy yourself. It’ll be fun.” She didn’t sound convincing, but before he could crush the life out of her, Molly appeared on the front porch with Pippi at her side. Both of them sported glittery pink tiaras, Pippi’s accessorized with a strawberry pink princess gown, Molly’s with bright yellow capris and a Daphne the Bunny T-shirt. Heath’s already grim expression grew even more forbidding.

Molly looked startled, then laughed as she spotted Heath. He shot Annabelle a life-threatening glare, plastered a smile on his face for Molly, and stepped out of the car. Annabelle grabbed her tote and followed. Unfortunately, the knot that had begun to form in her stomach came right along with her.

“Heath? I don’t believe it,” Molly said. “I couldn’t even talk Kevin into helping out today.”

“Is that so?” he replied slowly. “Annabelle invited me.”

Molly gave her a thumbs-up. “Cool.”

Annabelle forced a smile.

Heath walked toward Molly, projecting an air of amusement Annabelle knew he didn’t feel. “Annabelle neglected, however, to tell me exactly what she was inviting me to.”

“Oops.” Molly’s eyes sparkled.

“I would have if you’d asked.” Annabelle’s words sounded lame even to herself, and he ignored her.

Molly leaned down to her daughter. “Pippi, tell Mr. Heath about our party.”

The three-year-old’s tiara wobbled as she jumped and gave an ear-splitting shriek. “Princess party!”

“Ya don’t say,” Heath drawled. Slowly, he turned to face Annabelle. She pretended to examine the climbing rose next to the front porch.