Page 82 of WASP

EPILOGUE

ANNIE

The humidity in the DC area would be her death. She thought that, with it being mid-May, she would be safe from it, but no such luck. Annie felt every drop of the unseasonably warm, sticky weather and the way it clung to her like a second skin the minute she stepped out of her rental car. She couldn’t help but blame global warming because what do you mean it was this humid in early May? It was oppressive, and she couldn’t help but count down the hours until she was on a plane making her way back to Michigan and cooler days where oversized sweatshirts were still a must.

But her disdain for the humidity had to wait. Right now? Annie had more pressing matters to attend to.

She adjusted her skirt as she approached the unassuming front door of an address she had scribbled down on the phone two days ago when she had talked to Lynn. She reached for the brass anchor-shaped knocker, tapped it firmly against the imposing wooden door, then stepped back. A moment later, the door swung open, revealing a tall man with dark salt-and-pepper-streaked hair, clear blue eyes, and a square jaw standing before her.

Annie beamed. “Admiral Martin, hi. I’m Annie Dillinger—your daughter’s girlfriend. I’d like to apologize that it’s taken us this long to meet.” She smiled, holding out her hand, looking expectantly at Max’s dad.

The expression on the Admiral’s face was one of complete shock, but that didn’t stop him from taking Annie’s hand, shaking it firmly. “Annie. Hello. Delighted to finally meet you—a little confused as to why we’re meeting now, but delighted nonetheless. Please, come on in.” He dropped her hand, holding the door open as she breezed through it, setting her Prada sunglasses on top of her head.

She looked around the living room she had stepped into. It was minimal, definitely designed by a man, but still had an air of coziness.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Max’s dad asked her.

She grinned. “Water please, with ice.”

“Not a fan of the heat?” He smirked, leading her further into the small space at the back of the house, where the kitchen was situated along the back wall with windows overlooking the dramatic, sloping hill down to the edge of a river lined by towering trees.

“Not at all.”

“Max told me you were pretty charmed by your first midwest winter. Can’t say Michigan really holds a flame to Nebraska winters, but who’s comparing the two.”

“You, apparently.” Annie arched her brow.

The admiral handed her a glass, motioning to the small dining room table set under a lone pendant light, chartreuse vinyl-wrapped dining chairs calling their names.

“So, to what do I owe the honor of this surprise meeting?” he asked, sipping slowly from his cup.

Annie pressed her lips together, a wave of excited contentment washing over her. She glanced at the purse she had set on the table when they had taken their seats. “I was in town for business. I have a few clients in DC that I do some strategic finance work for, and I thought, since I was in the area, it would be nice for the two of us to finally meet.”

Max’s dad peered at her over the thin wire frames of his glasses. “Max didn’t mention anything to me when we talked yesterday.”

“Because she doesn’t know I’m here. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

The admiral chuckled. “So a top-secret mission then.”

“Highly classified, need-to-know. And lucky for you, you made the cut.”

She tapped her fingers nervously against the orange-stained oak table, reaching for her purse, slipping a hand inside, fingers wrapping around a small, square box—the very one she had picked up before leaving town this morning. Annie retrieved the box, setting it on the table between herself and Max’s father, surprised by the lack of nervousness she had anticipated being there.

“Is that⁠—”

“An engagement ring, yes,” Annie said matter-of-factly, clasping her hands together on top of the table. “To be clear, this is not me asking for your daughter’s hand in marriage—that is such an antiquated, and frankly problematic tradition. Consider this more of a conversation of intent. I plan to ask Max to marry me.” She dropped the words between them, waiting to see what they would ignite, but the admiral only leaned back, eyes assessing her before speaking.

“I’m sure Max has either told you, or strongly alluded to this, but I’m a man of honor and very few words. That being said, Max is her own person. You have my full support. I hope she says yes.”

Annie shifted in her seat, tilting her head to the side, puzzled at the stunningly pragmatic response to such a big reveal. Max had told her that sometimes her father could be emotionally hands-off, but experiencing this polite yet distant wall firsthand made Annie’s heart hurt for her.

She offered the admiral a warm but disarming smile, taking a deep breath, pulling on her courage to deliver the words she needed to say next.

“In that case, I’m sure Max has told you that I’m a woman of many words, so if you’ll indulge me for a few minutes, I think you’ll like what I have to say.”

A small hint of a smile from the admiral told Annie she was safe to continue.

“I come from a big family, sir,” Annie started, fingers tapping the table. “Growing up, I was told that family is everything—and I still stand by that no matter how challenging families can be sometimes. We’re all just people trying to figure out our place in this world, and having others to lean on makes that so much easier. My dream has always been to build a family of my own, one that really exemplifies the values I hold. And Max”—she swallowed the lump of pure emotion and adoration in her throat—“Max is an incredible woman. Her drive, her tenacity, the way she observes, how present she is—she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever known. In my eyes, she’s perfect. I love your daughter so, so, so deeply in a way I didn’t know was even possible until we met. As I said, family is important to me, and I wanted to let you know that Max being a part of my family means she will always be safe and always be cared for.”