High-Powered, Hot-Blooded(9)

"That, too."

"It's a family thing. We're a team. Like you and your uncle."

He and Lawrence were many things, but a team wasn't one of them. Duncan  nodded because it was easier than having to explain. He watched Annie  turn her attention to the rows of cut trees.

The air was thick with the smell of pine. There were a few shoppers talking over the sound of Christmas carols.



As Annie moved from tree to tree, he scanned the lot until he found the  girls checking the price tag on a tree. Kami shook her head. The twins  looked frustrated before moving to another tree. He turned back to  Annie, who was gazing longingly at a tree that had to be fifteen feet,  easy.

"You have eight-foot ceilings," he said, coming up behind her. "Learn from your past mistakes."         

     



 

"Meaning we shouldn't buy something that won't fit." She sighed. "But  it's beautiful." She glanced at the price tag. It was eighty-five  dollars. "Maybe not."

"How much did you want to spend?" he asked.

"Under forty dollars. Less would be better. This is a family lot. They  bring in the trees themselves. They cost a little more, but they're  really fresh and it's kind of a tradition to come here."

"You're big on tradition, aren't you?"

"Uh-huh. The rhythm of life, year after year. It's fun."

He felt like Scrooge. The only thing he did year after year was count his money.

She stopped in front of another tree, then glanced at him. "Not too tall?"

"It looks like a great height."

She fingered the tag. It was sixty-five dollars. When she hesitated, he  wanted to ask if twenty-five dollars really made that much difference.  But he knew it did or Annie-the spokesperson for the wonders of  Christmas-would cough up the money.

Duncan excused himself and found the owner of the lot. After a quiet  conversation and the exchange of money, Duncan returned to Annie's side.

"Let's ask the guy if they have anything on sale," he said.

She looked at him pityingly. "Trees don't go on sale until a couple of days before Christmas."

"How can you be sure? Maybe there's a return or something."

"No one returns a Christmas tree."

He smiled. "And if you're wrong?"

She sighed. "Fine. I'll ask. But I'm telling you, there aren't any returns or seconds in the Christmas-tree business."

She looked around for the owner, then walked over to him. As Duncan  watched, the man in the Santa T-shirt pointed to three different trees  clustered together. Annie glanced at Duncan, then back at Santa guy.

"Seriously?" she was saying. "You have returns?"

"All the time. How high is your ceiling?"

"Eight feet." She turned to the girls, who had joined her. "Did you hear that? These are only thirty dollars."

They had a lengthy conversation about the merits of each tree. Finally  one was chosen and put in the back of Duncan's truck. Annie watched  anxiously as he tied it down, then she took her seat in the cab.

She waited until he climbed in next to her before touching his arm.  "Thank you," she said quietly. "I don't know how much you paid him, and  normally I wouldn't have accepted the gift. But it's Christmas and the  girls love the tree. So thank you."



He started to say it wasn't him, then shrugged. "I need to get back to  the office. You were taking too long, looking for a discount tree."

Her blue gaze never wavered. "You're not a bad guy. Why do you want people to think you are?"

"It's not about nice, it's about tough. Staying strong. That means making the hard decisions."

It also meant depending only on himself-the one person he could trust to  be there for him. She might think connecting was everything, but he  knew better.

"You don't have to be mean to be strong," she said.

"Sometimes you do," he told her and started the engine.

Annie had never paid attention to magazine articles on relaxation. Her  life was busy-she didn't have time to become one with the moment. On her  best day, she was only slightly behind. One her worst day, her to-do  list stretched for miles. But now, as she sat in the elegant beachfront  restaurant with Duncan's business associates and stared at the nine  pieces of flatware around her place setting-most of which were totally  foreign to her-she wished she'd at least read the paragraphs on how to  breathe through panic.

She knew enough to start from outside and work her way in. There was  also a fairly good chance that the horizontal three pieces above the  decorative plate were for dessert. Or maybe dessert and cheese, and  possibly coffee. The weird little fork could be for shrimp or even fish  and the steak knife was clear, but what were the other three for?



Even more intimidating was the menu. While it was in English, there  weren't any prices. Did that mean everything was priced à la carte? Or  was there some jumbo total given out at the end of the meal? It wasn't  that she was so worried about the price. Even the cost of a bowl of soup  would probably make her faint. But she didn't want to order the most  expensive thing on the menu by mistake.

She scanned the offerings again. There was a lobster tail, a  market-price fish and Kobe beef. She was pretty sure if she avoided  those, she would be fine. Her gaze lingered over the pasta dishes. Two  of them were homemade ravioli. The twins would love that, she thought.         

     



 

"You all right?" Duncan asked, leaning close. "You're looking tense about something."

"We couldn't have gone to a diner? Maybe ordered a burger?" she whispered, making him laugh.

The low chuckle seemed to move through her, making her aware of how  close they sat and how great he looked in his dark suit. Duncan might be  the meanest CEO two years running, but he sure could wear clothes.

"It's business," he told her. "This place is quiet."

"So is my McDonald's, anytime after eight."

One of the three waiters serving the table appeared at her elbow. "May I get you a cocktail?" he asked.

She hesitated, not sure what the best-make that appropriate-drink would be. Or should she wait for wine?

"Ever had a cosmopolitan?" Duncan asked.

"Like in Sex in the City? No, but I'd love to try one. Are they really pink?"

"Unfortunately," Duncan told her, then ordered Scotch for himself.

An older man sat down on the other side of Annie. She smiled at him as  Duncan introduced him with the fact that Will Preston was the largest  plumbing supply distributor on the West Coast.

"Nice to meet you," the man said as he sat down. "Do you work?"

"I'm a kindergarten teacher."

Will leaned toward her. "Then maybe you can answer a question for me. My  wife loves to have the grandkids stay the night with us and they always  want me to read them a story. It's not that I mind doing that, but they  want the same story over and over again. I read it to them and they  want to hear it again. Why is that?"

"Their brains aren't as developed as yours," she said. "They don't have  the lifetime of experiences to draw on. So everything is new, all the  time. A bedtime story offers the comfort of the familiar and they like  that. They feel connected by the repetition, plus they probably hear  something new every time. I would guess they also like having you read  it to them, as well. Your voice, the way you pronounce the words, all  become associated with time with you. You're making memories."

He frowned. "I hadn't thought about it like that." The frowned cleared.  "Thank you, Annie. That makes me want to read to them more."

"I hope you will. Because thirty years from now, when they're reading to  their children, they'll remember this time. It will always be something  you've shared."

"Do you know what you want?" Duncan asked, reclaiming her attention.

She glanced at the menu. "I was thinking the twins would have enjoyed doggie bags from here."

She was about to say more when she caught Duncan's startled expression.  Maybe talking about taking food home to her family wasn't a good thing,  she thought, suddenly uncomfortable. She closed her menu and pressed her  lips together.

"Annie here has some real insights into my grand-kids," Will was telling the man across from him.

The man looked bored, although he nodded. Annie shifted in her seat.

Although she was dressed in one of the pretty cocktail dresses Cameron  had picked out for her, she felt out of place. Everyone at the table was  older and seemed to know each other. The women were laughing and  talking with a casual ease that made her want to slowly back out of the  room. Anywhere but here, she thought. What if she failed? What if Duncan  decided she wasn't doing a good job? Would he change his mind about  their deal? Would Tim be pulled out of rehab and sent to jail?

Stop it, she told herself. So what if everyone in this room had some  impressive job and knew what all the forks were for? She was smart. She  had a career she loved and she knew she made a difference. Duncan  Patrick needed her to make himself look good. If anyone should be  worried about the deal being changed, it was him, not her. He was lucky  to have her.