asked her out but she turned them down without a single regret. If celibacy and a solo adult life was the cost of giving Annie a secure, quiet life then it was a small price to pay.
Jennifer knew her friends were convinced she needed an adult social life, including a man to share her bed. But she was committed to keeping her vow to not repeat her mother’s mistakes. She swore her friends to silence, and they all promised not to tell any interested men about Annie or other details of her life. Fortunately, she hadn’t met anyone that stirred more than mild interest and she’d certainly never considered sleeping with anyone—until Chance walked into the diner and smiled at her.
Since then, her sleep had been haunted by vivid dreams of making love with him.
Perhaps going out with him will get him out of my system, she thought.
Finishing her shift at two o’clock that afternoon, Jennifer hurried home to collect her daughter from the babysitter. She chatted for a few moments with the spry seventy-eight-year-old Margaret Sullivan, before she and Annie said goodbye and headed across the hall to their own apartment. On the day they’d moved in, Margaret had knocked on their door with a plate of warm cookies and a welcoming smile. When Jennifer’s babysitter moved away, Margaret volunteered to have Annie stay with her while Jennifer worked or attended classes and the three had formed a close, familylike relationship.
“How was school today, Annie?” Jennifer asked when they were home in their own small kitchen. She filled the kettle at the sink and set it on the stove, switching on the burner.
“Fine,” Annie replied as she carefully took three small plates from the lower cabinet next to the sink. “Me and Melinda are working on a project.”
“Really? What kind of project?” Jennifer took two mugs from the cupboard. At the small corner table, Annie was carefully arranging four peanut butter cookies on one of the plates.
“We’re building a miniature house with a kennel for our dogs.” Annie shifted one of the cookies a bit to the left, eyed the plate critically, then nodded with approval. She looked up at Jennifer, her blue eyes glowing with fervor. “We’re practicing for when we get our real dogs.”
“I see.” Jennifer caught her daughter in a quick hug, pressing a kiss against the silky red-gold curls. The teakettle whistled a warning and she released Annie to turn off the burner. Pouring hot water into the mugs, she dropped an English Breakfast tea bag into hers and stirred hot chocolate mix into Annie’s, then carried them over to the table. The little girl perched on a chair, legs swinging with enthusiasm. “You know, honey,” Jennifer began, “it’s going to be a while before we can have a dog.” She set the gently steaming mug of chocolate in front of Annie and took the chair opposite.
“I know.” Annie gave her mother a serene smile and stirred her drink with single-minded concentration.
“Not that I wouldn’t like to have a dog, too,” Jennifer continued. “But the landlord won’t let us have pets in the apartment.”
“It’s all right, Mommy,” Annie said. She sipped the chocolate from her spoon, made a small sound of satisfaction and drank from her mug. “I’m going to ask Santa for a dog this Christmas.” She narrowed her eyes consideringly. “I think we need a house with a yard, too, don’t you?”
“Uh…sure.” Jennifer had no idea why Annie had decided that Santa would deliver a dog and a house by Christmas. But it’s only spring, she thought, and with luck, I can distract her and she’ll forget about it by this winter. Given that Annie had previously demonstrated a focused determination normally found in much older children, Jennifer wasn’t convinced the delay would distract her daughter. Nevertheless, it was the only plan she had. “What did you and Melinda use to build your miniature house?”
Jennifer’s attempt to distract Annie worked as the little girl launched into an enthusiastic description of the two shoe boxes they’d taped together and how they’d used scissors to cut out dog photos from a magazine.
The mugs were half-empty before Annie’s recital of the day’s events was exhausted. Jennifer eyed her over the rim of her tea mug and smiled as her daughter broke off a chunk of peanut butter cookie and tucked it neatly into her mouth.
“I have a surprise for you, Annie,” she said. “How would you like to have a sleepover at Jake and Suzie’s house this weekend?”
“Oooh, yes!” Annie bounced in her chair, her eyes lit with excitement. “May I take my backpack and my Lilia-Mae doll and my Enchanted Pony so Suzie and I can play with them?”
“Yes, of course.” Jennifer laughed when Annie jumped off her chair and threw herself into her mother’s arms, climbing into her lap as she listed all the many things she wanted to take with her.
Jennifer felt a stab of misgiving as she cuddled the warm, vibrant little body in her arms. This quiet apartment with Annie was her real life and she loved it—a world filled with her beautiful little girl and her busy days with work and college classes. A date with Chance Demetrios—at the ritzy Founder’s Ball, no less—was a huge step outside the constraints of the life she’d built.
But her friends were right, too, she realized. Sometimes, she was lonely and longed for an emotional—and physical—connection with a partner. There was no room for a permanent man in her life just now and wouldn’t be for the foreseeable future. But just for one night, perhaps it wouldn’t do any harm if she seized the opportunity to play Cinderella before returning to the quiet rhythm of her busy days with Annie.
Jennifer rested her cheek against her daughter’s silky red-gold curls, breathed in her little-girl smell of shampoo, soap and crayons, and contentedly listened to Annie’s excited plans for spending the weekend with her friends.
Chance hadn’t recognized the street address that Jennifer had scribbled on the note after she had accepted his invitation so he’d made a mental note to check it out later. He tucked the paper safely away in his pocket until later that evening, when he turned on his laptop to browse the Internet. It took his computer only a few moments to search, find a street map of Boston and pinpoint Jennifer’s neighborhood.
He frowned at the screen, trying to visualize the area. He thought her apartment might be located within a mile or two of the free clinic where he volunteered. He typed in a request for directions from his own town house, in an upscale Boston neighborhood, to Jennifer’s address. The resultant map details confirmed his guess that her street wasn’t more than a short cab drive and probably within walking distance from the free clinic. The two addresses were in a shabby though respectable area of Boston, not far from his own home in actual miles but light-years away in real-estate prices.
Chance didn’t give a damn that Jennifer’s address highlighted the disparity in their incomes but it drove home the fact that he knew little about her life away from the diner.
He’d noticed her sitting in a back booth to study on her coffee breaks at the diner and when he’d commented, she’d told him that she was taking college classes. But beyond being a student and working as a waitress, she was an enigma to him. He wondered if she lived alone or shared an apartment with a fellow student.
During their brief conversations, she’d never mentioned her family and he realized that he didn’t know if she had any sisters or brothers, or if her parents lived here in Boston. He couldn’t help but wonder what her childhood had been like, what kind of a family she came from, and where she’d grown up. Jennifer treated Mrs. Blake, the elderly widow who counted out coins to pay for her daily coffee and donut, with the same friendly
