down around 10:00 a.m. and ate a few bites of her custom-made muesli. “Has my son already abandoned us?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him all morning.” Annie refilled her juice. How had Sinclair managed to slip away? She’d been up since before first light. He must be very determined to avoid her. That didn’t bode well for their planned talk.
“I’m dying to head up to the attic, though I have to take it slow. The doctor says I’m not allowed to stand up for more than thirty minutes at a time.” She shook her head, and her elegant blond bob swung. “I don’t know how you’re supposed to do anything when you have to sit down every thirty minutes, but he is the top man in his field and I promised Sinclair I’d follow his instructions slavishly.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Weak.” She laughed a little. “I poop out easily. I’m supposed to eat all kinds of super foods to boost my energy but I don’t have any appetite, either. I might try acupuncture. A friend of mine swears by it.”
Annie ventured into the conversation. “My sister tried it to give up smoking and it didn’t work. I blame my sister, though, not the acupuncturist. I think she was more determined to prove him wrong than she was to quit.”
Katherine’s warm smile lit up the room. “I’m determined to get well. I have far too much to live for. I haven’t even met my first grandchild yet.”
Juice sloshed in the jug as Annie’s hand jerked. Sinclair was Katherine Drummond’s only child so obviously her fondest dreams lay in his next marriage. A prospect that made Annie’s muscles limp with dismay. “That is something to look forward to.”
“What about you, Annie? Is there anyone in your life?” A blond brow lifted.
Annie froze. Did she also suspect something between her and Sinclair?
“You seem to live here so quietly and I worry that we’ve cut you off from civilization. Maybe you should try one of those online dating services.”
Annie’s heart sank a little when she realized it hadn’t even crossed Katherine’s mind that she and Sinclair might be involved. “I’m quite happy. One day my prince will come.” She smiled and hoped it looked convincing.
“These days it doesn’t pay to wait around for princes to show up. Better to go out and find one yourself before all the good ones get snatched up.”
Sinclair’s been snatched up twice, but he’s still available. She did not voice her thoughts. And really, was a man who’d been divorced twice such a good prospect? She suppressed a sigh. “I don’t have time for dating. I’m planning to take an evening course at the local college.”
“Really?” Katherine’s eyes widened.
Annie regretted her words. The plan was still half-formed in her mind and now her employer would probably worry about her slacking off in her duties. Why had she said it? Was she so afraid of seeming like a pathetic spinster who’d be polishing silver for the rest of her life?
“Nothing very demanding. I was thinking of learning a little about business.” She shrugged her shoulders apologetically. Probably better not to tell Katherine about her dream of opening a shop one day.
“I think that’s wonderful, Annie. If there’s anything at all I can do to help, a reference to get you into the program, or something like that. I’m sure Sinclair will be thrilled.”
She doubted Sinclair would feel such strong emotion on the topic. Though he might be happy to hear she was trying to broaden her employment prospects. He’d hardly want her hanging around in his house for years after they’d had that … accident.
That’s what it felt like. A sudden car wreck. Or maybe just a fender bender. Either way it had left her bruised and dented and unsure of her previously planned route.
“Thanks, can I get you some more toast?”
“No, thanks. I’d like to head up to the attic, if you’re ready.”
They spent the day rifling through the boxes and crates of old possessions. The space grew hotter as the day went on. Vicki was surprisingly quiet, examining objects with a studious eye, as if making mental notes about them. They found several pieces of eighteenth-century scrimshaw and a carefully packed box with two old Chinese vases, but most of the stuff was obviously worthless—boxes of celluloid shirt collars and scrofulous-looking moleskin hats. By late afternoon they were winding down their search. “I think it’s time for a glass of iced tea,” Katherine said, getting up from the folding chair Annie had brought up for her.
“You go ahead, I’ll be down in a minute.” Vicki’s nose was deep in a black trunk.
“Something interesting in there?” Katherine fanned herself with a slim hand.
“Not sure yet. I’ll let you know if I find anything good.”
“Let’s go down, Annie.” Annie cast a backward glance at Vicki. It went against all her instincts to leave her here among the family treasures. “If you’ll just give me a hand down the stairs.”
With no choice but to help Katherine, Annie headed back into the house and spent the next hour making scones and spreading cream and jam on them, while listening for every slight hint that Sinclair’s car might be pulling back into the driveway.
Katherine was nodding off in a shaded armchair, and Vicki engrossed in texting on her phone, when she heard the purr of that familiar engine. Her heart immediately kicked into overdrive. She hurried into the kitchen so she didn’t have to watch him kiss Vicki warmly on the cheek. If he wanted to see her, he knew where to find her. She cursed herself for checking her reflection in the polished side of a stainless-steel pot and smoothing her hair back into its bun.
Heavy footfalls on the wood stairs sounded his ascent to his bedroom. She heaved a sigh of relief mingled with disappointment. Obviously he wasn’t burning with a desire to see her. She could easily go up there on the pretext of bringing fresh towels or collecting his laundry. In fact, on a normal weekend, she’d probably do just that.
But nothing would ever be normal again.
Softer footfalls on the stairs suggested Vicki heading up, too. Maybe she was going to throw her arms around Sinclair and beg him to tell her all about his sailing adventures.
Annie cursed herself for caring. Sinclair was never hers to be possessive about, not for a single instant. If she didn’t want to feel this way, she should never have let him kiss her. If only she could turn the clock back to that moment of madness when his lips hovered just in front of hers.
“He is one of the most insightful portraitists working today, but if you’re sure …” Vicki’s voice carried along the upstairs hallway later that afternoon. “Katherine, Sin doesn’t want to come with us. We’re on our own.”
“I keep telling him he should pay more attention to art, for its investment potential as well as its beauty, but he won’t listen. What time does it open?”
Annie listened to them plan their stroll through the village to the art opening and mentally calculated how long she’d be alone with Sinclair. Certainly long enough to talk. Probably long enough to get into a lot of trouble, too, but she had no intention of doing that again.
She
