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How had I found myself here? In Atticus's guest room?
We'd known each other well at one time, but he was a virtual stranger to me now. Yet he seemed familiar and safe, as I thought he would. Why else had I come here?
The last year had shattered my faith in myself and my judgment. Was this yet another mistake?
I'd let him kiss me. Three times. The last right before bed. A perfect gentleman, he'd walked me to the guest suite but had not asked to join me. Unusual in this day and age, and I appreciated it more than I would have thought possible. Was it really so much to ask to be treated with respect? Maybe not if the man was named Atticus Moon.
My eyes finally grew heavy, and I fell asleep, warm and protected for now.
9
ATTICUS
Thanksgiving morning I awoke early to take Scout out for her bathroom break and give her breakfast. After that, I brewed a pot of coffee that filled the kitchen with its nutty scents. Caspian often sent me home with day-old pastries from the restaurant, which I would then freeze. I took some out this morning to thaw, figuring Annie might be hungry when she woke.
Despite the events of yesterday, I’d slept well, although several dreams about Annie had woken me a few times. I couldn’t remember any of the details, only that she was there by my side.
I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat with my laptop at the island. I’d look to see the damage before Annie got up.
Sure enough, photos of our kiss were everywhere. Headline in one of the rags said: Annie Armstrong Reunites with Billionaire Atticus Moon. One of them nicknamed me Billionaire Cowboy.
Some of the articles went more in depth about our past connection. Annie’s name was trending on the internet. Great. We’d been outed before we even began.
I stared out the window, thinking. We had another bright, sunny day. The weather had been cold enough last night that the soft snow had frozen into ice. Fortunately, all the roads from the ranch and Mama’s place were dirt roads. They might be slick in spots, but no one could drive fast enough to make them dangerous.
What should I do about this? Obviously, Annie would know once she opened the internet or any social platform. Would she want to go home and deal with all of it? Get away from the source of new gossip, not to mention our sordid past?
After I had a piece of toast, I set to work organizing my cooking schedule. Everyone was coming at two, so I needed to get the giant turkey in sooner or later. Hopefully without it trying to slide back to her flock.
It was nearing nine by the time Annie came downstairs. The Montana air must be good for her. She looked rested and less haunted around the eyes than yesterday. Wearing loose jeans and a casual sweater, with her hair pulled into a knot on top of her head, she looked utterly spectacular.
“Good morning.” I poured her a cup of coffee in my second-favorite mug, a throwback to my old company. Before we were acquired, we used to give mugs away with our logo on them to all new employees. They were wide and deep, hinting at the long hours I required from anyone who worked for our start-up. All that toil had paid off for all of us. Not a person on the staff, including the receptionist, left there without a million dollars in the bank. Selling the company had taken its toll on me, but it was all worth it in the end. The lack of control over this thing I’d built was not something I took lightly. But the agreement had included my exit, so I had to walk away and hope they didn’t ruin what I’d worked so hard to build.
My former head engineer, Chase, had approached me of late with another idea for a company, but I didn’t think I had it in me. As ambitious as I had been, my drive seemed to die a littlemore with each day I spent in my home with my family so nearby. I’d spent most of my twenties working. Now I was enjoying getting to know parts of me that had lain dormant for too long.
Like cooking? Not really. But I’d promised Caspian he could take the day off, and I’d take care of everything. Mama and Pop were making mashed potatoes in addition to the pies they’d dropped off yesterday. Thad and Soren were bringing stuffing from a recipe they’d seen on the internet. Rafferty had offered to buy rolls from the bakery in town, but I’d told him just to bring the beer.
In my wine cellar, there were many choices to go with dinner. I might not know how to cook, but I knew my wine. It had been one of my only hobbies while I was still working. San Francisco was close to wine country, after all. So why not?
“Did you sleep well?” I asked. “Cream or sugar, by the way?”
“Just a little cream if you have it.”
I poured some cream into a small pitcher and set it near her mug. She brushed her thumb across the logo. “This is your company?”
“That’s right.”
“Very cool,” she said. “I’m proud of you.”
“Ditto.
“You look well this morning,” I said. “Was the bed all right?”
“Heaven. And it’s so quiet here. My apartment’s wonderful, but it’s kind of loud.”
“Do you still rent?” I asked, surprised.
“I’m saving my money for now. I live frugally. My career could dry up in a second. Especially with all the scandal.”
