Match Me if You Can (30 page)

Good job choice, Lucy. Not much need to worry about bedside manner.

Heath gave her a megawatt smile. “You and I seem to be the only outsiders tonight, so we’d better stick together. For all we know, these people could be serial killers.”

Her parents and brothers chuckled, but Lucille looked mystified. Finally her mental fog cleared. “Oh, that’s a joke.”

Annabelle shot a quick look at Kate, but beyond the flicker of an eyebrow, her mother wasn’t giving anything away. Annabelle’s irritation grew. Her brother had a track record for choosing these humorless brainiacs, but did anybody stage an intervention for Dr. Adam? No, they did not. Only for Annabelle.

Heath looked boyishly repentant. “A bad joke, I’m afraid.”

Lucille seemed relieved to know it wasn’t her.

Kate always booked the Mayfair Club’s second-floor private dining room for the Granger family’s Chicago gatherings. Decorated like an English manor house with polished brass and chintz, the room offered a cozy seating area near a mullioned bay window that looked down on Delaware Place, and they settled there for cocktails and birthday presents. Doug and Candace presented her with a gift certificate for a makeover at a local salon. No mystery who’d come up with that idea. Adam gave her a new DVD player along with a collection of workout videos, thank you very much. When she unwrapped her parents’ gift, she found an expensive navy suit she wouldn’t have been caught dead wearing, but couldn’t return because Kate had ordered it from her favorite working woman’s boutique in St. Louis, and the manager would squeal.

“Every woman needs a power suit as she gets older,” her mother said.

The corner of Heath’s mouth twitched. “I have a gift for Annabelle, too. Unfortunately, it won’t be ready until Monday.”

Candace pressed him for details, but he refused to say more. Kate could no longer hold back her curiosity about why he was here. “We never mind when Annabelle shows up without a date, even though she says it makes her feel like a fifth wheel. Asher client, you certainly had no obligation to be her escort, but…Well, I must say we’re all glad you agreed to join us…?”

She ended her sentence with an implied question mark. Annabelle hoped Heath would somehow put an end to her mother’s assumption that this was a mercy date for him, but he was more intent on playing the charm card. “It’s my pleasure. I’ve been looking forward to meeting all of you. Annabelle’s told me the most amazing stories about your banking career, Kate. You were a real trailblazer for women.”

Kate melted all over him. “I don’t know about that, but I will say things were a lot more difficult for women back then than they are now. I keep telling Annabelle that she doesn’t know how lucky she is. These days, the only obstacles standing in the way of a woman’s success are ones of her own making.”

Zing.

“You’ve obviously taught her well,” Heath said smoothly. “It’s amazing what she’s been able to create in such a short time. You must be enormously proud of her.”

Kate looked hard at Heath to see if he was kidding. Candace snickered. Annabelle didn’t exactly hate her sister-in-law, but she wouldn’t be the first person standing in line if Candace turned up needing a kidney.

Kate reached across the arm of her chair to pat Annabelle’s knee. “Tactfully put, Heath. My daughter has always been a free spirit. And you look lovely tonight, sweetheart, although it’s too bad they didn’t have that dress in black.”

Annabelle sighed. Heath smiled, then turned his attention to Candace, who’d maneuvered a position on the leather sofa between him and Doug. “I understand that you and Doug have a gifted little boy.”

Gifted? The most Annabelle had said about Jamison was that he’d learned to get everybody’s attention by peeing on the living room rug. But the Granger clan ate it up.

Kate beamed. “He reminds me so much of Doug and Adam at that age.”

Tiny penises?

“We’re having him tested,” Doug said. “We don’t want him to be bored in school.”

“He loves his nature enrichment class.” A strand from Candace’s hair extensions was sticking to her lip gloss, but she didn’t seem to notice. “We’re teaching him to recycle.”

“It’s amazing how well coordinated he is for a three-year-old,” Adam said. “He’s going to be quite an athlete.”

Kate puffed up with maternal pride. “Doug and Adam were swimmers.”

Annabelle had been a swimmer, too.

“Annabelle swam, too.” Kate hooked a sickle of blond hair behind her ear. “Unfortunately, she didn’t take to it like her brothers.”

Translation: Annabelle had never won any medals. “I just had fun,” she muttered, but no one was paying attention because her father had decided to enter the conversation.

“I’m cutting down my old seven iron for Jamison. It’s never too early to get them interested in the game.”

Candace launched into a description of Jamison’s academic prowess, and Mr. Charm made all the right responses. Kate regarded her sons fondly. “Both Doug and Adam were reading by the time they were four. Not just words, but entire paragraphs. I’m afraid it took Annabelle a little longer. Not that she was slow—not at all—but she had a hard time sitting still.”

She still did.

“A little attention deficit disorder isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” Annabelle said, feeling the need to interject. “At least it gives you a broad range of interests.”

Everybody stared at her, even Heath. It figured. In less than half an hour, he’d deserted the loser’s lunch table and taken up permanent residence with the cool kids.

The agony continued as the appetizers arrived and they resettled around the table, which was set with white linen, pink roses, and silver candlesticks. “So, Spud, when are you coming to St. Louis to see the new cardiac wing?” Adam took the seat next to her, his date on his opposite side. “Funniest damn thing, Lucille. The last time Annabelle visited, somebody left a cleaning bucket in the hall. Annabelle was talking as usual, so she didn’t see it. Splat!”

They all laughed as though they hadn’t heard the story at least a dozen times.

“Remember that party we had before our senior year in college?” Doug snorted. “We mixed everybody’s leftover drinks together and dared Spud to down the whole damn thing. God, I never thought she’d stop puking.”

“Yeah, those are some great memories, all right.” Annabelle drained her wineglass.

Fortunately, they were more interested in grilling Heath than in torturing her. Doug wanted to know if he’d considered opening an office in L.A. Adam asked if he’d taken on any partners. Her father inquired into his golf game. All of them agreed that hard work, clear-cut goals, and a smooth backswing were the secrets to success. By the time they dug into their entrées, she could see that Heath had fallen as much in love with her family as her family had with him.

Kate, however, still hadn’t satisfied her curiosity about why he’d shown up as her escort. “Tell us how your hunt for a wife is coming along. I understand you’re working with two matchmakers.”

Annabelle decided to get it over with. “One matchmaker. I fired him.”

Her brothers laughed, but Kate regarded her severely over her dinner roll. “Annabelle, you have the most bizarre sense of humor.”

“I’m not joking,” she said. “Heath was impossible to work with.”

An embarrassed silence fell over the table. Heath shrugged and set down his fork. “I couldn’t seem to stay on task, and Annabelle doesn’t put up with a lot of nonsense when it comes to business.”

Her family gaped, all except Candace, who’d finished her third chardonnay and decided it was time to launch her very favorite topic of conversation. “You’ll never hear it from any of them, Heath, but the Granger family is old,
old
St. Louis, if you know what I mean.”

Heath’s fingers curled around the stem of his wineglass. “I’m not sure I do.”

As much as Annabelle appreciated the change of topic, she wished Candace could have chosen something else. Kate wasn’t happy, either, but since Candace had decided to misbehave instead of Annabelle, she merely asked Lucille to pass the salt.

“Salt leads to high blood pressure,” Lucille felt duty bound to point out.

“Fascinating.” Kate reached past her for the shaker.

“The Grangers are one of St. Louis’s original brewery families,” Candace said. “They practically settled the town.”

Annabelle stifled a yawn.

Heath, however, abandoned his prime rib to give Candace his full attention. “You don’t say?”

Candace, a natural-born snob, was more than happy to elaborate. “My father-in-law waited until he graduated from college to announce that he intended to go into medicine instead of beer. His family was forced to sell out to Anheuser-Busch. Apparently, it was quite the news story.”

“I can imagine.” Heath gazed across the table at Annabelle. “You never mentioned any of this.”

“None of them do,” Candace said in a conspiratorial whisper. “They’re ashamed of being born with money.”

“Not ashamed,” her father said firmly. “But Kate and I have always believed in the value of hard work. We had no intention of raising children with nothing better to do than count the money in their trust funds.”

Since none of them could touch the money in their trust funds until they were about 130, Annabelle had never understood why it was such a big hairy deal.

“We’ve watched too many young people get ruined that way,” Kate said.

Candace had another tidbit to disclose. “Apparently quite a dustup occurred when Chet brought Kate home. The Grangers saw it as marrying down.”

Far from taking offense, Kate looked smug. “Chet’s mother was a horrible snob. She couldn’t help it, poor thing. She was a product of that insular St. Louis socialite culture, which was exactly why I tried so hard—and so
futilely,
I might add—to talk Annabelle out of being a debutante. My family might have been working class—God knows my mother was—but—”

“Don’t you
dare
say one bad word about Nana.” Annabelle stabbed a green bean.

“—but I knew how to read an etiquette book as well as anyone,” Kate went on smoothly, “and it didn’t take me long to fit right in with the high and mighty Grangers.”

Chet regarded Kate with pride. “By the time my own mother died, she cared more about Kate than she did about me.”

Heath hadn’t taken his eyes off Annabelle. “You were a debutante?”

Her spine stiffened, and her chin came up. “I loved the gowns, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. You got a problem with that?”

Heath started to laugh, and he kept at it so long that Kate had to dig a tissue from her purse and hand it over so he could wipe his eyes. Frankly, Annabelle didn’t see what was so gosh darned funny.

Candace unwisely permitted the waiter to refill her wineglass. “Then there was River Bend, the house where they all grew up…”

Heath gave a snort of amusement. “Your house had a name?”

“Don’t look at me,” Annabelle retorted. “It happened before I was born.”

“River Bend was an estate, not just a house,” Candace explained. “We still can’t quite believe that Chet talked Kate into selling the property, although their home in Naples has to be seen to be believed.”

Heath started laughing all over again.

“You’re annoying,” Annabelle said.

Candace went on to describe the beauty of River Bend, which made Annabelle nostalgic, even though Candace neglected to mention the drafty windows, smoking fireplaces, and frequent infestations of mice. Finally, even Doug had heard enough, and he switched the subject.

H
eath loved the Grangers, every one of them, with the exception of Candace, who was a self-important pain in the ass, but she had to live in Annabelle’s shadow, so he was prepared to be tolerant. As he gazed around the table, he saw the rock solid family he’d dreamed of as a boy. Chet and Kate were loving parents who’d dedicated themselves to turning their kids into successful adults. Her brothers’ teasing drove Annabelle crazy—they did everything but give her noogies—but as the youngest child and only girl, she was clearly their pet, and watching Adam’s and Doug’s not-so-subtle competition for her attention was one of the highlights of his evening. The complexities of the mother-daughter relationship were beyond him. Kate was a nag, but she made excuses to touch Annabelle whenever she could and smiled at her when she wasn’t looking. As for Chet…His fond expression left no doubt who was Daddy’s Little Girl.

As he gazed across the table at her, his throat tightened with pride. He’d never seen her look so beautiful or so sexy, but then his thoughts always seemed to take that direction. Her bare shoulders gleamed in the candlelight, and he wanted to lick the sprinkle of freckles on that graceful little nose. Her shiny swirl of hair reminded him of autumn leaves, and his fingers ached to rumple it. If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in his outdated, misdirected notions of what made up a trophy wife, he would have realized months ago the place she occupied in his life. But it had taken last weekend’s party to open his eyes. Annabelle made everybody happy, including him. With Annabelle, he remembered that life was about living, not just about work, and that laughter was as precious a commodity as cash.

He’d canceled a morning’s worth of appointments to pick out her engagement ring, only two and a half carats because her hands were small, and lugging three carats around all day might leave her too tired to take off her clothes at night. He’d planned exactly how he intended to propose to her, and this morning he’d put the first part of that plan in motion.

He’d hired the Northwestern University Marching Band.

He envisioned exactly how it would unfold. Right now, she was angry, so he had to make her forget that, up until a few weeks ago, he’d intended to marry Delaney Lightfield. He had a pretty good idea Annabelle loved him. The Dean Robillard scam proved that, didn’t it? And if he was wrong, he’d make her love him…starting tonight.

He’d kiss her breathless, carry her upstairs to that attic bedroom, turn Nana to the wall, and make love with her until they were both senseless. Afterward, he’d follow up with a boatload of flowers, some ultraromantic dates, and a slew of salacious phone calls. When he was absolutely certain he’d crumbled the last of her defenses, he’d invite her to a special dinner at Evanston’s top restaurant. After she’d been lulled by good food, champagne, and candlelight, he’d tell her he wanted to see her old college hangouts and suggest a walk around the Northwestern campus. Along the way, he’d pull her into one of those big arched doorways, kiss her, probably feel her up a little because, who was he kidding, there was no way he could kiss Annabelle without touching her. Finally, they’d reach the campus lakefront, and that’s where the Northwestern marching band would be waiting, playing something old-fashioned and romantic. He’d drop down on one knee, pull out the ring, and ask her to marry him.