She sighed, squared her shoulders and knocked on the door.
“Yeah...come in.”
Annie opened the door and stood on the threshold. The office had timber flooring, a couple of filing cabinets against one wall, a large white board against another, two computers and a stack of files on a desk in the center of the room.
Annie stared at him and a familiar feeling wound through her system. He was staring at the computer screen, tapping on keys, his dark-framed glasses perched on the edge of his nose. His brown hair flopped over his forehead, and the dark denim shirt he wore stretched over his broad shoulders. During the week, he preferred formal pants, shirt and tie—but on the weekend he dressed casually. She always thought it was a good look on him. Too good.
“Can I talk to you?”
He waved a hand to usher her into the room, not glancing up. “Sure.”
She stepped into the room and closed the door. It was a conversation that required privacy. She certainly didn’t want the kids to overhear. Because, she knew without a doubt, that David wouldn’t accept her resignation easily.
“Um...”
The words sat on the edge of her tongue, tormenting her. He was still looking down. Still immersed in his work. Completely oblivious even though they were in the same room.
She tried again. “David? Hello? I can come back if you’re really busy, but it’s kind of important...” Her voice trailed off when she realized that his focus was so complete that he hadn’t heard a word.
His disengagement fueled her frustration and her determination to do what she planned. He really had all the sensitivity of a rock.
“David!”
The sharpness in her tone quickly got his attention and he paused, midtype. “What is it?”
Annie sucked in a breath. “I’m leaving.”
He glanced at her. “Sure, see you later,” he said and then averted his attention back to the computer screen.
“No.”
He sighed impatiently and looked at her. “What?”
Annie pushed strength into her knees and walked toward him, dropping the envelope on his desk, before steeping back a little. “I’m leaving,” she said again.
He looked at her, then the envelope, then back to her. “I don’t understand. What’s this?” he asked and motioned to the white envelope.
“My letter of resignation,” she said quietly, waiting for the pin to drop in the room.
When one didn’t, she crossed her arms and waited for him to respond.
“Ah...what did you say?”
“My resignation,” she said again. “Like I said, I’m leaving.”
He tilted the chair back, pushed his glasses up a little and stared at her, his handsome face etched with a frown. “What’s this about, Annie?”
“I’m giving you two weeks’ notice,” she replied and drew in a shallow breath. “That should be enough time to find a replacement.”
“A replacement?” His words echoed around the room as he lifted the envelope. “You can’t be serious?”
“Perfectly,” she replied, trying to breathe.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
She tried to shrug, tried to look confident, tried to do anything other than stand like a statue. But her feet were stuck to the floor. She noticed the tiny furrow between his brows, and the expression he made when he wasn’t pleased. And then she thought about how ridiculous it was that she knew his moods and expressions so well. It was foolhardy to think about how much she knew about David. He was her boss. End of story.
“It’s time I moved on from here,” she said and shrugged. “No job lasts forever.”
He didn’t break their gaze and sat back in the chair, tapping his fingers on the desk. “I see. So my children are merely a job to you?”
His words were exactly what she expected. “I hate to point out the obvious, David...but taking care of them is a job that you pay me to do.”
His stare narrowed. “Is that what this is about? Do you want a raise?”
Irritation wound up her spine. “Of course not. You’re already very generous.”
“Not generous enough, obviously,” he said and got to his feet. “Okay, how’s a ten-percent increase sound? And an extra week attached to your annual vacation time?”
Of course, it was all about the numbers. He was so blind he hadn’t even bothered to ask if it was personal. Because David didn’t see her as anything other than a member of his staff, someone on the payroll, as much an employee as a ranch hand.
“I don’t want any more money,” she said firmly. “I want to leave.”
His frown deepened as he moved around the desk. “This is a little unexpected, Annie. I thought you were happy here.”
At last, she thought, some level of sensitivity from the man. “I have been. However, things change and—”
“Have you been headhunted?” he asked bluntly. “I know there are several families around here who would like to hire you.”
She shook her head. “No. This is...personal.”
“Personal?” he echoed, still frowning. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” she said with emphasis, “that it’s personal. And I’d prefer to leave it at that.”
“I’m sure you would,” he said quietly. “But I after all these years, I think I deserve a little more of an explanation.”
Of course, she thought irritably. It was about what he wanted. What he demanded.
Annie glared at him, aware that they were suddenly only a couple of feet apart and she had to tilt her head to look up and meet his penetrating gaze. If he wanted the whole story, he’d get it. She pushed back her shoulders, glaring hotly into his eyes, and spoke.
“All right,” she said on a huff. “The truth is... I want to get married.”
* * *
David Culhane McCall was rarely at a loss for words. But Annie’s stunt shocked the hell out of him.
Maybe he should have seen it coming. Maybe the way she’d been quieter than usual lately, almost distracted, should have gotten him thinking that something was brewing. But...it was Annie. Reliable. Steadfast. A rock. The best thing that had happened to him in the last four years.
Well, not to him, he corrected himself immediately. But to his family. And specifically, to his kids. They adored her, and rightly so. She was an angel sent to help when life was at its worst. He’d lost his wife and his mother...the whole family was grieving and dealing with the profound loss and his children hadn’t taken to any of the other nannies he’d employed. But Annie Jamison was different. Younger, certainly, and with less experience than the prison warden who’d come before her, and who had lasted only a week before he’d told her to leave. Annie was like a breath of fresh air compared to that. Funny and creative and smart, someone who lit up any room she entered. Someone who he relied upon to help raise his children.
Maybe you rely on her too much.
Ignoring the voice in his head, he looked into her upturned face. Her blue eyes shone brilliantly; her full mouth was set in an unusually tight line instead of her usual glowing smile and her cheeks were flushed. She looked...angry. A few strands of honey-brown hair had escaped from the ponytail she always wore and were tucked behind her ears. She was incredibly pretty. Not in an overt or flashy way, but a quiet kind of beauty—not that he ever thought about Annie in that way. That was inappropriate. Out of the question. She was the nanny. His employee. His friend, he had believed.
Except she wasn’t looking at him in a friendly way. In fact, she looked madder than hell. Married? She’d said she wanted to get married? He ignored he way his gut tightened at the idea.
“Married?” he echoed the word incredulously. As far as he knew, she wasn’t dating anyone. “Who the hell to?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I jumped the gun there a bit. But I want
the chance to meet someone I can care about, maybe enough to marry and spend the rest of my life with. And I can’t do that while I’m...while I’m...”
“While you’re what?” he demanded, so confused his head spun. He didn’t really understand what she was saying. She wanted to get married, but not to anyone in particular? It didn’t make sense.
“Living here,” she replied and sighed. “Living this life. With your children as...” She stopped, swallowing hard. “Almost as if they are...” Her words trailed again. “I want my own family, my own children. And to do that, I need to leave.”
David stared at her and sucked in a breath. She wanted children? But not his? How could anyone not want his kids – they were incredible.
He inhaled again and her perfume swirled through the air. Or maybe it was her shampoo. He wasn’t sure, but the scent was as familiar to him as any on the ranch—vanilla and spice—a sweet combination that always pleased his senses. He wasn’t sure why. But it had become her signature scent over the years, a way of knowing she was close, part of things, keeping the balance, making things easier.
“So, you’re not leaving us to get married?” he asked and scowled.
“I will eventually. Who knows,” she said and flapped her arms. “It’s really not anyone’s business. Look, you asked the question, and I answered it.” She pointed to the envelope. “There’s my resignation. I’ll be going in two weeks, that should give you enough time to advertise for my replacement and conduct interviews.”
David rocked back onto his heels. “No.”
Her bottom lip dropped. “No?”
He crossed his arms. “I don’t accept your resignation,” he said and then moved around the desk, shaking his head in confusion. “I just don’t get it, Annie. You’ve always seemed happy here. Happy with us.”
Her expression remained tight. “I love the kids. I always will. But accept it, or not, David...it won’t change the fact that I’m leaving.”
He stared at her, trying to read something in her expression that would indicate she wasn’t as determined as her words made it seem. But all he saw was steely resolve and a budding antagonism.
And his children, he knew, wouldn’t understand. They would feel her loss. They’d grieve it, would be heartbroken. Four-and-half-year-old Scarlett adored her, and eight-year-old Jasper hung on her every word. They would be devastated by the news. Inconsolable. The very notion made him ache through to his bones.
“You can’t leave us,” he said simply.
Something flickered across her face, shadowed her eyes for a moment. But then the resolve was back. “I have to, David.”
He let out a heavy breath. “Annie, please don’t do this.”
She didn’t flinch. “I’m sorry,” she said as she left the room, leaving the scent of her shampoo in her wake.
David wasn’t sure how long he remained in the office, staring after the opened doorway. Minutes. Hours. No, he corrected, not hours. Only, time had suddenly stretched into some weird vortex and he couldn’t think straight. Of all the things he might expect, Annie’s leaving was not on the list. She was practically a part of their family, and he’d always appreciated everything she did for his children.
So, how on earth was he supposed to tell them that she was leaving? Dread formed in his stomach as he headed from the room and down the hall, making his way toward the kitchen at the rear of the house.
His grandmother Mittie McCall was standing behind the counter, her wild red hair piled high on her head, her long, handcrafted wooden earrings dangling from her ears. Mittie always made him smile. She was his father’s mother, an adventurous and free-spirited woman who had made the ranch her home, but spent a good part of each year travelling the globe. When David was two years old, his father, James McCall died unexpectedly from a heart attack while out mustering cattle. David’s mother, Sandra, remarried Ivan Petrovic when he was six and then had Leah, his half sister. David had always considered Ivan to be his dad, as the older man had always treated him like his son, but he kept his real father’s name out of respect for Mittie and the generations of McCalls before him. Family was important. Family mattered above everything else.
And his had just imploded!
Annie...
He got back to thinking about her. And his shock at her announcement.
“Morning, sweetpea.”
David grimaced at the nickname his grandmother had been calling him for decades. “Hey, Nan.”
She smiled. “I’ve made cookies.”
Mittie was a perennial baker. “The kids will be happy. Speaking of my kids, where are they?”
“In the stables with Annie,” she replied and smiled again, waving a spatula covered in chocolate frosting. “Something about a cat having kittens.”
David nodded, then walked from the kitchen and through the mud room, grabbing his coat from the peg by the door. It was cool outside, the sky rumbling and cloudy and rain looked imminent. October was traditionally cool and this one was proving to be harsher than usual, David thought as he shouldered into his coat and hiked up the collar. The stables were around the front, so he circumnavigated the house and within minutes the dogs Rufus and Daisy were racing around his feet, trying to get him to play chase with a stick. The fluffy pair weren’t exactly ranch hounds...more like lap dogs. But the kids loved them and that was all that mattered.
He’d bought them as pups not long after Jayne and his mom had been killed, as a way to help his children with their loss and overcome the incredible pain they were feeling. It wasn’t nearly enough, of course. But six months later, he’d made the solid decision to hire Annie, and things got better. Time was a healer, too. So was work. And family. Despite everything that had happened, David was grateful for all he had in his life. And up until half an hour ago, he’d been incredibly grateful for Annie. Now he was just annoyed.
He stalled in the doorway, watching the trio. His children and the woman they adored. Annie had been a pivotal part of their lives for so long it would be difficult to imagine life on the ranch without her. Almost impossible. She created balance and harmony. She was the steadiness they all needed after so much loss and was an essential part of their everyday lives. She was...family.
He watched as Scarlett clutched her hand as they bent over, looking into a small box in the corner of the stables. Jasper said something and Annie laughed, the sound echoing and somehow hitting him directly in the center of the chest. It occurred to him that he hadn’t heard her laugh much lately. Oh, sure, sometimes when she was in the garden with Mittie or in the kitchen with the kids, or reading the paper with his dad when his father dropped in. But around him...not so much.
Had it always been like that? Had he simply been blinded by the fact she was essential to his kids and therefore didn’t think about their relationship. Not that they actually had a relationship. She worked for him. She lived in his house. They ate dinner together with the kids most weeknights. They talked about the children, the weather and other mundane things, but never about anything really personal. Of course, he’d done a background check before hiring and knew all about her. He knew her stepsister, as well as her father and stepmother. She loved chocolate and hated avocado and always ordered her pizza with extra mushrooms. She was an early riser, but was often asleep on the sofa by nine in the evening. The woman jogged three mornings a week and some Sundays and did yoga downtown on Thursday evenings. He knew she liked reading murder mysteries. She loved Christmas and holidays and spent forever searching for the right gifts. Annie had a sweet voice and would often sing the kids to sleep with a lullaby. She cried every time she watched The Notebook. He knew she liked to wear knitted scarves in winter. He knew she liked to dance, listened to country music and had a hankering for George Strait and Kenny Chesney love songs.
But what he didn’t know was why in the hell she was leaving him.
Not me, he corrected, bu
t the kids, their family, and the life she had on the ranch.
Again, he remembered she’d said something about getting married, registered that it irked him and didn’t want to think about why. Besides, she hadn’t mentioned she was seeing anyone. Maybe he’d been wrong...maybe she was dating someone. It wasn’t as though he paid a lot of attention to her love life. Although, if she was in a relationship, she was certainly discreet about it to the point of keeping the guy invisible.
Yep, it definitely irked him—a lot—which he knew wasn’t rational. Annie could do whatever she liked. Still, he didn’t like secrets. And really, she could still have a relationship and work for him. Most people balanced a professional and personal life. He even did it himself occasionally. Although he was hard pressed to remember the last time he’d been on a date. And he hadn’t had sex in forever, not since Rachel had left town over a year earlier. She’d worked at the local hospital in the surgical unit and they’d had a mutually agreeable no-commitment-required relationship for about eight months. The no-strings arrangement suited them both. When she left town to pursue her career in Boise, neither of them was exactly heartbroken. Sure, he’d liked Rachel, but she would never have been someone he could settle down with permanently. For one, she didn’t want kids, and since he already had two of his own, imagining they could have anything long-term or serious was out of the question. Besides, he wasn’t in love with her. He liked her well enough, but that was it. They hadn’t even really been friends...more like two people who occasionally got together for dinner and sex. Which had suited them both.
Since then, David hadn’t been inclined to try meeting anyone. His accounting practice kept him busy and so did the kids. His children were everything to him, and frankly, he wasn’t sure he wanted another live-in nanny, either. He’d actually known Annie for a long time, having met her at his cousin Mitch’s first wedding to her stepsister, a decade earlier. Their paths had crossed several times in the ensuing years, mostly at the holidays or weddings and funerals.
The Reluctant Fiancée (The Taylor Triplets Book 3) Page 21
