All For You (6 page)

And they’d only slept. He’d wrapped himself around her all night, cocooned in warmth and security that she hadn’t felt since her parents had died. She was pretty sure that was the night she’d fallen in love with him.

Her heart expanded, remembering it. What had she been thinking, letting him go?

Now here she was—in love with him all over again.

And she was going to let him go all over again, because there was no way she could stop him from going to New York.

She blotted her lips with the napkin and quietly left.

Anna sat at Freya’s kitchen table the next morning, a cup of coffee and a homemade muffin she hadn’t touched in front of her. Next to her, Mae shoveled spoonfuls of oatmeal into her mouth and Josh threw Cheerios on the floor.

She looked at the pile of cereal on the floor. “Your kid’s making a mess.”

“Tell me something new.” Freya flipped the eggs she was frying onto a plate with fruit and carried it to her husband, who sat at the head of the table.

Anna shook her head. “This is so ‘Leave it to Beaver.’ I had no idea you guys lived in a time capsule.”

“What do you know about ‘Leave it to Beaver’? You’re a baby.” Greg, her brother-in-law, glanced at her as he began to dig into the food.

“Reruns on Nick@Nite.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “Is it like this every morning?”

“Pretty much,” her sister replied cheerfully. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s something.” She’d never be able to pull this off. Freya was like Wonder Woman, able to cook and care for her brood and still produce award-winning websites. Not that Anna wanted to do this, but it seemed kind of nice to be around a family you’d built.

It was her family, too—she knew that—but she felt distinctly left out, like she was an insider looking in.

Freya sat down with her own plate. “Are you sure you don’t want anything? I can make you an omelette.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Greg set his silverware down with a clatter. “Are you dying?”

“Shut up, Shrek.” Before Freya had loved Greg, she’d hated him, calling him an ogre. Anna still loved pulling his old nickname out every now and then.

“Shrek is mean,” Mae said. “I love the donkey. The donkey likes cake, just like me, Aunt Anna.”

“I know, kiddo.” She tweaked her niece’s nose.

The little girl laughed and went back to eating her oatmeal.

“So why
are
you here?” Freya asked. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I’m taking a personal day.”

“Are you sick?”

No, she was avoiding Max. So far he’d called her cell four times, and it was only a matter of time before he found her at work, and she didn’t think she could face him yet. “I’m just tired,” she replied finally.

Freya and Greg exchanged a look. “This doesn’t have anything to do with why you’ve been trying to reach me the past few days?” her sister asked.

It had everything to do with that. “I wanted to invite you to my dinner party.”

“Now I know something’s wrong,” Greg said. “Since when did you cook?”

“I don’t. I hired a caterer.”

Freya stopped eating and stared at her. “This all has to do with Max, doesn’t it? What scheme are you hatching now?”

“I’m not.” She scowled. “And why does everyone always assume I’m up to something?”

“Because you usually are,” both Freya and Greg replied at once.

She didn’t dignify that with a response. “So can you come to my party? It’s Wednesday night.”

“Mae has a dance recital Wednesday night,” Freya said. “Who else is going to be there? Have you invited Eve and Treat?”

“They can’t make it.” Actually no one was able to make it. It was just going to be her and a ton of food. In the end, she had to give up the guy, too.

She slumped lower in her chair.

Suddenly Greg stood up. He scooped up Josh. “Mae, want to help Daddy shave for work?”

“Yes!” She clambered down from the table and ran after him. “Can I shave, too, Daddy?”

“Yes, because you’re starting to look like a werewolf.”

“
Daaad-dy
.” Her giggles faded down the hall.

Freya turned to Anna. “Okay, I know all of this, including the morose look on your face, has to do with Max. Tell me what’s going on.”

She pouted. “I don’t look morose.”

Freya just stared at her.

Anna sighed. “Okay, fine. Max is leaving for New York.”

“And you haven’t convinced him to stay yet?”

“I
can’t
convince him to stay. He can’t pass up this chance. It’s really too good.”

“Don’t you love him?”

“Yes.” Her heart felt heavy and bleak. “But this is best for him.”

“
You’re
best for him.” Freya pushed her plate away. “Since when do you just give up?”

“I don’t.”

“Then you don’t believe you’re the best for him?”

Anna glared at her sister. “Is this a tough love thing? Because I’m trying to think of someone else’s needs before my own. Aren’t you the one who says I get too focused on myself sometimes? I want him to be happy and fulfilled.”

“And he’ll be happy and fulfilled in New York?” Freya asked caustically. “Because, and I may be wrong, I think he might be happier here.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I see the look in your eyes when you talk about him, and that’s love. Not even you’re hard-headed enough to love someone who didn’t love you back.” Freya got up and fiercely squeezed her from behind. Then she dropped a kiss on Anna’s head. “New York may be a great opportunity, but sometimes great opportunities don’t make a person the happiest.”

She hugged her sister’s arms tightly. “You think he’d be happier here?” she asked.

“I think he’d be happier wherever you are, and I think you’re resourceful enough to show him he has everything he needs, right here.”

Freya had to take Mae to a play date. For a moment, Anna debated staying in her sister’s home, but she decided that if she was going to act pathetic, she should do it in the privacy of her own home.

She drove back to her apartment and parked. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts as she walked to the flat that she didn’t see the man sitting on the porch steps until she almost tripped over him. She gasped, catching her balance on the railing. “Max.”

He stood up, sticking his hands in his pockets. “You left last night.”

She swallowed, hearing the repressed emotion in his voice. At one time she’d have been overjoyed to hear it, but now it just hurt. “Yes.”

“And you haven’t been answering my calls.”

“I’ve been busy today,” she lied.

His brow furrowed, and he took a step down closer to her. “I was worried about you. Are you angry at me for some reason?”

“I’m not angry at all.” It was pointless to be angry, but she
was
full of regret.

“Then I don’t understand. Why did you leave without a word? I was worried about you.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you. I just didn’t belong there.” She hugged herself. “There didn’t seem to be a reason.”

“I wanted you to be there.” He descended one more step and took hold of her arms. “That is reason enough.”

“No, it’s not,” she said gently, shrugging out of his hands. She tried not to notice her heart crying out in protest. “We can’t do this anymore, Max. You’re leaving in a few days. I understand why, and I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“You just decide what I want without asking me?” Eyes narrowed, he crossed his arms. His voice held an edge she’d never heard before, and there was a hardness to the set of his jaw.

“You have to take the offer in New York,” she said even though it killed her to admit it. “You can’t argue with that.”

“I’m arguing with you about making decisions regarding what I want without consulting me.”

“You want to go to New York.”

“That’s not all I want.” He lifted her chin and kissed her.

Relief and a crazy surge of need made her go limp the instant his lips touched hers. He kissed her, as if trying to prove something to her. She wanted to tell him there was nothing to prove—she knew how great this was, how great they could be.

Only that wasn’t the point here, and it was too late.

Sadly, wanting to shake her fists at Fate, she disengaged from him. “We can’t.”

He studied her, his high cheekbones flushed with either desire or anger, she couldn’t tell. “So this is it?” he asked coolly.

She repressed the tears that flooded her eyes. She couldn’t keep him from his stellar future. “Yes, this is it.”

He studied her, a ruthless perusal that made his features harden. Then he nodded. “Goodbye, Anna.”

Her throat was clogged with emotion, and she couldn’t answer him. As she silently watched him walk away, the tears she’d tried to deny broke free and trailed down her cheeks.

Anna paced the length of her flat, one moment determined to let Max go to make his future and the next plotting how to lock him in her closet and keep him there for her pleasure for the rest of their days. Only she kept coming back to one thing: moving to New York was too good to pass up, and it was an excellent stepping stone for his desire to teach.

Being altruistic sucked.

She ended up going to work, because sitting around and thinking was only giving her a headache. She told their receptionist she wasn’t taking calls, went into her office, and closed the door. Then she plunged herself into work.

The first order of business was Megan’s pet project. She looked over the documentation in the file Megan had given her. It was for a community revitalization project, involving an incoherent mix of stores, low-income housing, and educational resources. It should have been a brilliant proposal, but the idea was confused and not fully formed.

Eve’s friend Daniela Rossi had started a project to get people off the street in the South of Market area. She thought about Daniela’s charity as she flipped through the pages of this project. Daniela’s foundation had been incredibly successful. Focused on women, especially single mothers, it didn’t just provide a free ride. They had a school where they taught baking and helped people get back on their feet in addition to a boarding house.

School.

Anna paused and then looked over the documents again, an idea forming. She pulled a legal pad closer and began scribbling notes.

An hour later, she rushed to Megan’s office and burst in waving the folder. “This project is complete shit.”

“Tell me how you really feel,” Megan said, pushing away her laptop.

“But I have a better idea.” She leaned her palms on the desk. “A restaurant that serves as a culinary school and training center, primarily for the underprivileged who can’t afford actual culinary school, run by a world-class chef.”

Megan tapped her foot against the desk. Based on her expression, Anna knew she was thinking the idea through. “The chef wouldn’t happen to be Mr. Spicy, would he?”

“Yes, and he’s excellent. A restaurant group is giving him
carte blanche
to start his own place in New York. That’s impressive.”

“But he wants to stay here?”

“
I
want him to stay.” She placed her palms on the desk and leaned forward. “But the point is Daniela Rossi did a similar working educational venture here in the city and it’s gotten incredibly good press.”

Her colleague nodded thoughtfully. “Rossi is the media’s darling.”

“Exactly.” She could see Megan’s mind churn. Excited, she continued. “You can hype this as a similar project, minus the housing. Giving people who can’t afford culinary school a way to succeed. A way to reach into the community and give back.”

“Okay.” Megan dragged her laptop closer. “I’ll run some numbers and get back to you in an hour, but I have a good feeling about this. It’s exactly the sort of public interest project I wanted.”

Anna beamed. For Megan to say she had a good feeling was pretty much a green light to go ahead with it. “And then you’ll talk to him about it?”

Megan glanced up. “That’s what you want?”

“It’ll be more credible coming from you.” She made a face. “In fact, it might be best if you didn’t mention me at all.”

“Okay.”

Grinning, she backed out of the office.

“Anna?”

She looked over her shoulder.

“Thanks.” Megan gave her a thumbs up. “This is win-win for everyone.”

She hoped so. She really, really did.

It was Wednesday, the evening of her dinner party.

Anna stared at her reflection in the long mirror in her bedroom, admiring the new dress she’d bought for tonight. It was chili pepper red, dipping low in the front and the back. The style was completely different than anything she owned, and she loved it, so much so she barely batted a lash at the price tag. She wanted to look stunning for her party.

Of course, there were no guests coming.

Whatever. She narrowed her gaze defiantly. She’d spent a fortune, and she’d decided she was going to enjoy it. She’d drink champagne and eat Max’s fabulous food for the last time and celebrate.

Some would call her crazy—especially since yesterday Megan had told her Max had turned down the proposal.

Anna swallowed back her sadness. She’d tried, and she was proud of herself for taking the gamble. She may be sad, but she had no regrets. How could you regret love, even if it didn’t turn out happily?

Even if she’d lost the one man who was perfect for her in every way.

But she felt like she’d found a part of herself that she’d lost in transition over the past few years. She’d gone out on a limb and taken a risk, but she was still safe and secure, if a little battered and lighter in her wallet.

The doorbell rang.

The caterers. She put on the fabulous silver shoes she’d bought to go with the dress and went to let them in. If only Max could see her in this dress—he’d love it.

Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be there tonight. When he’d left her on the stoop, it’d been clear that she wasn’t seeing him again before he left. To drive the point home, he’d emailed her the day after their encounter to let her know his crew would arrive at the designated time but that he wouldn’t be there. The sadness had been crushing, but she’d get over it. One day. Hopefully.