by Thea Dawson
I narrow my eyes. “We met in Cassandra's office.”
He shrugs. “I like the other version better. Cassandra fired me, by the way,” he adds conversationally.
I wince, remembering the nasty review I wrote about his performance as my escort. It gave me a small measure of satisfaction, but now it feels petty and vindictive, and I’m ashamed of myself.
“I’m sorry,” I sigh. “I’ll write her back and tell her that you did a good job.”
“It doesn't matter. I don’t really want to work there anymore anyway. That's not why I'm here.”
I lean back in my chair and sigh. “All right, fine. Why are you here?"
He leans forward, earnest and sincere looking. “Because I want a chance to tell you what that weekend at the lake was all about.”
I stare at him, trying to look as neutral and uncaring as possible.
He continues. “Alex and I really did have a big fight, and she really did ask me to leave for the weekend. That was true.”
I concede with a nod. Having talked to Alex at the club, who said the same thing—about a dozen times, along with assuring me that they were just friends—I believe this much.
Archer takes a deep breath. “And yes, I was hoping to somehow score a meeting with Zac. Your Aunt Mila told me he was a friend of the family’s, and I figured that if I got to know you all and made a good impression, maybe your parents would be good contacts.”
I’m not surprised, but hearing my suspicion confirmed sends an unexpected dart of pain through my chest.
“Is that why you slept with me?” I ask in a low voice. “Settling accounts?”
He shakes his head vigorously. “No. Look, I admit it crossed my mind.” He looks at the ceiling for a moment, then runs his hands through his hair. “You know I hate being in debt, but that wasn’t what it was. I like you. I more than like you. Those days at the lake …” He stops, apparently too overcome for a moment to speak.
“The time we spent together at the lake,” he continues again, his voice hoarse, “it was like seeing what a relationship was supposed to be like for the first time. Not this quid pro quo thing, you do something for me, I do something for you. It was just two people trying to make each other happy. It was the first time I’d ever been in a relationship like that, and … it was amazing. And frightening. And … great. I want to see where this could go, Annabelle.”
For a moment, I'm almost swayed. Then I remind myself that he’s a good actor.
I save my document and close my laptop, which gives me a reason to look away from him for a moment while I try to collect my thoughts. I turn to look him straight in the eyes again.
“How was your screen test?” I ask, keeping my voice cool.
He glances at his watch. “Actually … it ended about five minutes ago.”
My eyes widen. Apprehension prickles my scalp. It’s at least a half hour drive from Zac’s studio to here. “What do you mean?”
He looks at me evenly. “It was for 9:30 this morning. Or it would have been, anyway. I called them to say I wouldn't be able to make it in."
“What?” The apprehension turns to a cold stone in my stomach. “Archer, they're not going to just let you reschedule something like that. Zac doesn’t have any patience for people who can't keep their commitments.”
He nods. “I understand that. I guess I just had a more important commitment to keep.”
I put both hands up to my mouth. I can’t believe he doesn’t comprehend the enormity of what he’s done. “Archer, that was your big break.” I shake my head and grope in my purse for my phone. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe you did this. Look, I'll ask my dad to talk to him—Maybe I could even call him myself, I’ll tell him I had some kind of emergency—”
Archer reaches across the table to grab my hands. “Stop. Annabelle, it's okay. I don't want it, not if it comes at the cost of losing you.”
His words barely register. “You idiot!” I say the words loudly, and a few coffee shop patrons turn their heads to look at us curiously. I quickly lower my voice. “It could be years before you get another shot like this! What the hell were you thinking?”
He just smiles. “I was thinking it would be worth it if I knew you cared about me.”
“Of course I care about you, you dummy!” We’re attracting attention again, but I’m barely aware of it. “I want you to succeed. You’ve worked too hard to throw a chance like this away for me!”
“Annabelle,” he says, still smiling, “I know two things: one, that I'm a really talented actor, and that someday, I'm going to be a huge success, whether I ever get a screen test with Zac Borstein again or not. And two, that I love you, and that nothing is worth losing your trust or respect over.”
I can’t answer. My hand is pressed to my mouth and my eyes are filling with tears. I’m simultaneously appalled at what he’s done and deeply touched.
“… Oh, my God, Archer … I don’t know what I can do to make this up to you.”
He shakes his head again. “This isn’t about making up, or paying back, or anyone owing anyone else anything. I made this decision, and I’ll live with it. But,” he continues, “if you’d be willing—free and clear, with no feeling of obligation—I would like to ask for a second chance.”
I’m not sure if I can trust my voice, but I try. “Like how?” I choke out.
Archer's smile softens. “So, I walked into this coffee shop, and I saw this really intriguing woman sitting by herself with a laptop and a notebook,” he says again. “I decided to take a chance and go over and talk to her. When I glanced at the notebook, I could see she’d written out all these really complicated formulas and I thought, man, this chick is way too smart for me—” he shakes his head a little, “—but I took a chance and asked if I could sit at her table. We started talking and … we just hit it off.” He pauses for a moment. “How does that sound?"
I finally make a dive for a napkin and wipe my eyes. It’s a moment or two before I can get my voice to work again properly.
“I can’t believe you blew off Zac,” I sniffle.
“Hell with Zac,” Archer says evenly. “Do you think there’s a future for us?”
I nod and finally manage a smile through my tears. For all my accusations on Saturday that he must want something more from me, I know I don’t really have anything else that he could want—except myself. “I’m willing to give it a shot.”
“Good.” He leans forward and drops his voice. “What if I told you I know a soundproof room not too far from here?”
I laugh and kind of sob at the same time. “Seriously?”
He shrugs. “Well, it’s not literally soundproof, but Alex won’t be home from work until five-thirty, and I’m unemployed. How about you? Any deadlines?”
I shake my head. “Just finishing up my grant proposal, but I still have a couple days before it’s due.”
His eyes sparkling, he gives me that panty-melting smile that made me weak in the knees the first time I met him and raises a suggestive eyebrow. I push my laptop aside and lean across the table to kiss him.
Around us, several patrons of the coffee shop, who’d tuned in to watch the drama unfolding at the table in the corner, clap a little, but I hardly notice. My head and my heart are too full of Archer.
ARCHER
Several hours later, we’re in my bed, sweaty and satiated. We took full advantage of Alex’s absence to make as much noise as we wanted, and it was glorious.
Does fantastic sex make up for missing out on the biggest opportunity of my career?
No … but the smile on Annabelle’s glowing face does.
Giving up my screen test with Zac wasn’t an easy decision, but now that it’s done, I’m content with it. It’s not only reassured Annabelle that she’s my priority, but in an odd way, it’s liberated me. The transactions that dictated my life felt necessary at the time, but they never felt fully right. In giving up the screen test, I’ve also given up my transactional approach to life.
“One thing I still don’t understand,” she says, “I'm impressed you remembered about the coffee shop, but how did you know I’d be there this morning? Wasn’t it an awful risk to take, blowing off the screen test, if I might not even have been there?"
I pause for a moment, not sure how much I should say. “I had a little help,” I admit. “But I'm not at liberty to say who.”
Annabelle laughs quietly. “I bet it was Carina.” She shakes her head fondly. “She's such a softy.”
I don’t reply. Annabelle's a smart cookie; she'll figure it out sooner or later. For now, I'll keep my mouth shut. I don't think she'd appreciate me letting the secret out, but beneath Brianna Winter’s icy exterior beats the heart of a hopeless romantic.
29
Epilogue: Annabelle
Two years later
My parents weren’t happy that Archer blew off the screen test. My mother, especially, was put out; partly because Archer had embarrassed her in front of Zac, but more because she really believed in Archer’s talent, and she was miffed that he’d flubbed a chance like that.
I hadn’t been intending to tell them the entire story about how I’d met Archer, but he talked me into it, saying he never wanted to hide anything from me or my family again.
It was awkward. My parents didn’t fully understand why I’d felt the need to hire Archer in the first place, and it took a little while for them to fully trust him again, but eventually they realized he wasn’t going anywhere and embraced him as a member of the family.
In the end, Archer got his big break the old-fashioned way: he was discovered while waiting tables. Despite my offers to explain everything to Cassandra, he insisted that he didn’t want to work for Gentlemen, Inc. again, and he filled in the blanks in his paycheck by taking a job at a restaurant. One day, he waited on a woman who turned out to be directing a low-budget horror movie. She offered Archer a role; the film turned out to be a surprise hit, and his career took off. In fact, we’re going to be spending this summer in the UK; I’ll be teaching a summer class and doing some research at the University of London, while Archer works on a film adaptation of Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to seeing him in a tailcoat and top hat.
Before we head overseas, though, we need to get through a little rite of passage first.
“I look ridiculous,” I mumble. I’m actually kind of enjoying all the fuss everyone is making over me, but I’m also feeling acutely self-conscious.
Beside me, Archer rolls his eyes. “You look amazing. Smile for the camera.”
He looks amazing, as always. He’s wearing an expensive suit, and his hair and his beard have just been trimmed. I’m clutching my diploma in one hand, and I’m wearing the shapeless black gown and eight-sided hat of a doctoral graduate. It’s dramatic, but stiflingly hot. Its main advantage right now is that it covers the little baby bump that we’re planning to tell my family about over lunch. I’m sure my family will be thrilled—but it’s also making me more tired than I’ve ever been in my life. Right now, I’m ready to sit down and get a drink of ice cold water.
But that’s not going to happen until my family commemorates everything on film.
My dad snaps several photos then hands the camera to my mother so she can get one of just him and me. Putting his arm around me, he smiles proudly. Carina bounces around like an overeager Irish setter, and even Brianna is getting into the festivities, smiling and taking silly selfies with each of us in turn.
Finally, Archer gives me a once over, and I can tell he knows I’m ready for a rest. He looks at his watch and orders everyone into their cars, promising that we’ll be right behind them.
He upgraded to a snazzy little BMW after he signed the Northanger Abbey contract. The little Honda, his last tie to Elsie, is finally gone, and I don’t miss it a bit. Archer settles me into the front seat, fussing over me like a mother hen—I swear he’d buckle my seatbelt for me if I let him—then comes around the other side of the car to join me.
But he doesn’t turn on the car.
“Before we head over the restaurant, I have a little graduation present for you,” he says, reaching into the glove compartment and pulling out a small gift box.
It’s a square and flat, a little too big for a ring, which is mildly disappointing. We’ve been living together for a year, and at this point, it’s kind of understood that we’ll be getting married, but I’m still holding out hope for a real proposal.
“Thank you.” Curious, I unwrap the box and open it. Inside there’s a brown leather button, the kind you find on an old-fashioned tweed jacket. It’s surrounded by loose sequins on a bed of cotton wool.
Archer looks at me for a moment, waiting to see if I’ll get it, but I don’t. I cock my head at him, waiting for him to explain.
He gives me a look of exaggerated patience. “A long time ago, you told me you felt like a little brown button in a family full of sparkly sequins.”
“And you’re telling me that’s … exactly what I am?”
He rolls his eyes. “Pick up the button!”
I pick it up and burst out laughing even as my eyes fill with tears. It’s attached to a very large, very sparkly diamond ring.
“What I’m trying to say,” Archer continues, “is that you may think of yourself as a little brown button, but you’re actually the sparkliest one of all. How about it, Dr. Winter?” He takes the button out of my hand and detaches the ring. “Be my wife?”
Not trusting myself to speak, I nod and I hold out my left hand. He slides the ring onto my third finger.
I hold out my hand and admire the way the diamond catches the light. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” he says, wiping a hand across his forehead in exaggerated relief. “I was not looking forward to telling your dad we had a baby on the way if you didn’t have a ring on your finger first.”
I laugh and swat him on the shoulder, then the next thing I know, he’s kissing me, and I forgive him, as I always do.
<<< The End >>>
Gentle Reader,
Want a peek of Archer and Annabelle’s life a year from now? Click the link below to download an exclusive bonus story!
www.TheaDawson.com/ShortStory
Coming soon:
Beautiful Carina Winter has a reputation she doesn’t deserve … and she thinks it’s about time she did. When her college crush Drew reappears in her life, she takes it as a sign that he’s The One—The One to show her what she’s been missing.
Pre-order now!
Other Books by Thea Dawson
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Acknowledgments
I put a lot of myself into each of my books, but I couldn’t do it without the help of innumerable other people. For this book, gratitude is due in particular to the following people:
First, to my beta readers, who gave me feedback on the plot, caught a zillion little (and not so little) errors, and provided encouragement when it was needed most. To Katie Williams, Dan Hunt, Shari, Brianna Lawrence, Gussie Schug, Amy, and the other Shari, thank you all very much!
To Heather Cardona, a.k.a. the Plot Genie, whose patient, thoughtful and expert advice helped turn a concept into a book, more quickly and easily than any other book I’ve written.
And finally, to my husband, who patiently provides feedback on all drafts, whisks away the kids when I need to get work done, and lets me bounce ideas around with him even when he’d much rather be sleeping—thank you. You’re my very own romance hero.
About the Author
World traveler, vegetarian, salsa dancer, film fanatic, lover of
happy endings. In an alternate steampunk universe, Thea travels by dirigible and gets in sword fights with dashing villains.
In this one, she lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband/salsa partner, three antic children, and an agenda-driven cat. She writes at the intersection of sweet and steamy, and hopes her stories will melt your heart and brighten your day.
If you'd like to keep up with her and learn more about her books, please visit her website at www.theadawson.com or find her on Facebook at fb.me/TheaDawsonAuthor.
