Winner Takes All (3 page)

S
ix hours later, after back-to-back appointments, Annabelle left her studio, still fuming over Blake Carpenter. The man was the most obstinate thing she'd ever encountered. And that was saying something, considering Ruth Turner, Annabelle's mother, could argue the color of the sky. Growing up with a woman like Ruth had given Anabelle the tools she'd needed to go head-to-head with even the most stubborn people.

One conversation with Blake had turned her into the same insecure, second-guessing woman she's been after her divorce. The entire time she'd been in his office, she'd felt out of sorts. Like a child who'd been stripped of her security blanket.

Not since meeting her ex-husband had Annabelle had this sort of crazy-physical attraction to a man. She shook her head at her own stupidity as she locked the front door to her studio and walked to her car.

Bottom line, Blake Carpenter, former professional football player and all-around jerk-face, was just about the hottest thing she'd ever laid eyes on.

Unbelievable.

She started the car and pulled away from the curb, then flipped a U-turn at the intersection. Her normal routine was to close up her studio, then head to her mother's house to make dinner and catch up with household chores.

This evening she decided to make a detour to the administration building of the Blanco Valley school district to have a little chat with Drew Spalding. She wasn't sure how much good it would do, but at the very least she could make her issues with Blake known to the man who'd hired her. Chances were there wasn't a whole lot Drew could do about it, but she had to try anyway.

Her phone vibrated from the depths of her purse, and Annabelle took advantage of the red light to dig the thing out. She had a feeling she knew who the text was from and tapped the screen to pull up the message.

I'm out of toilet paper. And milk.

Annabelle couldn't help the grin that broke across her face. Leave it to her mother to get right to the point.

A second later another text came through.

And Charlie needs more doggie treats. Be sure to get the vegan kind.

Annabelle's smiled faded when she read the last line. Charlie was her mother's Boston terrier, who had the attitude of a diva and a bark that was like an ice pick to her eardrums. Annabelle had never liked her mother's dog, mostly because she got the distinct feeling he turned his nose up at her whenever she came to the house. Never mind the fact that she was now the one feeding him and brushing his damn teeth.

And what did it matter what kind of treats the dog ate?

But she was happy to do it. Her mother had enough on her plate that she didn't need to worry about what the dog had on his. Ruth had had two hip surgeries in the past year. After the first time, Annabelle had taken as much time off as she could to take care of her mother for a week, then had returned to Denver. Shortly after that, her mother's health had taken a turn for the worse, and Annabelle had made the difficult decision to leave Denver. She'd sold her physical therapy practice and her condo and moved to Blanco Valley. Ruth had protested, saying it was unnecessary for Annabelle to rearrange her entire life just for little ol' her. But they both knew it had been for the best. Ruth wasn't getting any younger, and she had no one else to depend on with her other daughter, Naomi, so far away. It had been a good thing, too, because a week ago, Ruth had needed a second surgery on the same hip. Her mother's mobility was becoming more limited in her old age, so Annabelle thanked the Lord she'd made the decision to be closer. She made a note to stop at the market after leaving Drew's office. On the plus side, perhaps feeding some weird vegan treats to King Charlie would take her mind off Blake. And his world-class rear end.

Doubtful.

She shoved her own negative thought away and pulled into the parking lot of the school district's administration building. The interior of the building was quiet and blessedly cool. The front desk was empty, but all the lights were still on. Annabelle rounded the first corner and strolled down a short hallway to the open door of Drew's office. She rapped on the door frame to announce her presence and smiled when Drew lifted his head.

“Annabelle,” he said with an openmouthed grin that should have sent her heart fluttering. Drew was a good-looking guy who could probably have any woman he wanted. As far as she knew, he had remained single after his divorce and didn't date very often. Probably because he was married to his job.

Why couldn't she be attracted to him instead of Blake Carpenter? Or notice how great his ass looked in a pair of shorts? Drew was a great catch and he didn't make her teeth grind together whenever he opened his mouth.

“Hi, Drew,” she said. “Sorry for showing up unannounced. I'm not interrupting you, am I?”

He shook his head. “Not at all.” He gestured toward one of the desk chairs. “Have a seat.”

She dropped her purse to the floor and lowered to the chair. It was one of those ergonomic things with no armrests and no padding. Uncomfortable as hell, is what it was.

“What brings you by?” he asked after tossing his pen on the desk and leaning back in his own ergonomic chair.

“I went to practice today to check out the team,” she answered.

Drew gave her a slow nod. “And you met Blake,” he concluded.

Obviously she wasn't the only one Blake had conversational issues with.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “He's…” Her words trailed off as she sorted through her mind, trying to find the correct word to describe such a complex man.

“An ass?” Drew helped with a lifted brow.

Exactly. “That's not the word I was going to use,” she hedged, instead of agreeing with him. “But he does seem a little…socially challenged.”

Drew chuckled. “That's one way of putting it. But the guy was one of the top players in the NFL. He knows his stuff, which is why I hired him. You're not going to have issues working with him, are you?”

She licked her lips and puffed out a breath. “I'm going to do the best I can for those kids, because they deserve that. But Blake did try to fire me today.” Actually, blatant dismissal had been more like it

Drew's brow furrowed. “That's not surprising. I went to high school with him, so I know how obstinate the guy can be. Just don't let him push you out the door. If you stay out of his way, you shouldn't have a problem with him.” Drew tilted his head to one side. “Do you need me to set him straight for you?”

Annabelle lifted a brow. “I can fight my own battles, thank you. I'm not about to let Blake Carpenter bully me into leaving the team.”

Drew nodded. “Good. Because I still believe those kids need all the help they can get. You just do your thing, let Blake do his and you shouldn't have to butt heads with him.”

Yeah, easy for him to say. Drew didn't have to worry about his pulse fluttering whenever he was near Blake. Doing her job side by side with him was one thing. Doing it while trying to suppress the butterflies in her stomach or mask the heat blooming across her cheeks whenever he said
Mizzz
Turner was a different story.

The market didn't have vegan dog treats, so Annabelle went to the pet store. They didn't have any either, so she grabbed some that had all white meat chicken and brown rice. She could have gone to the dog groomer's, because they had things like vegan dog treats and all natural shampoo. But she was tired and wanted to go home.

So Charlie would just have to deal and so would Ruth.

She pulled up to her mother's house, making a note to call the landscapers and bitch at them for not cutting the grass this week. Her mother had enough to deal with without having to worry about her yard getting done.

Annabelle got out of the car, retrieved the groceries from the backseat, then walked up to the front door. She let herself in without knocking, knowing Ruth wouldn't hear it anyway. Her mother actually had excellent hearing but tended to be selective, which sometimes made for some interesting conversations.

The short entry hall opened up to the living room where her mother was kicked back in the recliner, her wooden cane leaning against the side. Charlie, the little pain in the ass, jumped off her mother's lap, ran up to Annabelle, and yapped and jumped as though he'd never seen her before.

Heathen.

She kicked her leg out to pry the little shit's sharp nails off her yoga pants. “Get off me,” she ordered the dog. “I thought you were going to get him a bark collar,” she said to her mother.

Charlie kept up his barking and followed Annabelle to the kitchen. “Those things are inhumane,” her mother called. “They electrocute the dogs.”

Good grief. Annabelle lifted her eyes to the ceiling as she set the plastic bags on the counter. “No, they don't,” she called back. “They make a high-pitched sound when the dog barks. It trains them to be quiet.” She strolled back into the living room where Charlie had climbed back onto his throne. Annabelle jutted a finger at him. “He needs one, Mom. The dog's a menace.”

Her mother ran an arthritic hand over Charlie's tiny head. “He does what he's supposed to do. He alerts me when someone's at the door.”

The tiny black-and-white dog with short fur and black eyes stared back at Annabelle with one eye dropping closed and the other kept firmly on her, as though to say,
You don't fool me.
Annabelle didn't want to fool him; she just wanted him to stop shrieking like a banshee whenever she walked in the door. “It's more than an alert. It's an instant migraine.” She stared at her mother. “It makes people want to kick him.” Charlie's ears perked up as though sensing he was in immediate danger of Annabelle's size 8s.

Yeah, sleep with one eye open, dog.

“Did you get his treats?” Ruth asked without acknowledging Annabelle's statements. Probably because she knew they were true.

She went back into the kitchen, snagged the bag of cookies, then ripped them open. Charlie's ears perked up when he saw the food, and Annabelle barely resisted the urge to snarl at the animal. He simply blinked at her because she either wasn't good enough at conveying her contempt for the dog or Charlie wasn't easily intimidated. Knowing the animal, it was the latter.

Ruth's eyes narrowed when she saw the bag. She held up a hand before Annabelle could reach in and grab a treat. “Wait a minute. Those don't look like the ones I normally buy.”

If Annabelle ever owned a dog, it'd be eating Alpo. Not that she didn't like dogs. Really, Annabelle had a fondness for dogs, at least ones that didn't have superiority complexes. But wasn't dog food, dog food?

“They were out of the other stuff,” she told her mom.

“Let me see it,” Ruth said with an arm extended.

She handed the bag over, knowing exactly what her mother was going to say before she even said it.

“See,” Ruth stated with her index finger tapping the bag. “This has chicken in it.” She offered the bag back to Annabelle. “I'm not giving animal bits to Charlie. It's bad for them. I saw it on Animal Planet.”

Oh Lord. If there was one thing her mother was obsessed with, besides Charlie the douche, it was Animal Planet.

She held her hands up in surrender. “Okay, whatever. I'll go get the other stuff, but it'll have to be tomorrow.”

“Charlie thanks you,” her mother called to Annabelle's retreating backside.

She didn't do it for Charlie, but who was she to argue?

Her mother turned the volume up on the TV, which was tuned to some show about marine life that lived in the Great Barrier Reef. Annabelle put away the lactose-free milk, then took the package of toilet paper and stored it in the hall closet. After taking care of that, she pulled a casserole from the freezer and preheated the oven.

The first time her mother had surgery, Annabelle had learned the hard way that it was easier to prepare a week's worth of dinners, then store them in the freezer. Coming over here every single night and making dinners from scratch, as her mother liked them, was simply too much work. So she'd prepare them at home, usually on a Sunday, and bring them over Sunday night.

Tonight's dinner was a chicken broccoli casserole, topped with corn flakes. One of her mother's favorites.

Annabelle set the dish on the counter. She'd just turned around to go back into the living room when her mother came shuffling in, leaning heavily on her cane.

“You shouldn't be moving around, Mom,” Annabelle told her. “We've talked about this before, remember? You need to heal properly before you can start that aerobics class.” As a physical therapist, Annabelle knew the importance of making a healthy recovery after a major surgery such as her mother had. Keeping the muscles mobile and limber post-surgery was imperative to healing properly. Ruth seemed to think she could rely on her cane, which made Annabelle's fingers itch to throw the damn thing in the closet. Because they both knew the cane was more for security than anything else.

“I'm not an invalid, Annabelle. I can get up and get myself something to drink.” She opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water. “Besides, my doctor told me I need to try moving around if I feel like it.”

Even if her doctor hadn't told her that, Ruth would still try to do everything for herself. The woman rarely asked for help and seldom accepted it when offered. The only reason she allowed Annabelle to do as much as she was doing was because she knew Annabelle wouldn't take no for an answer.

“I need to regain my strength if I'm going to do cardio in the park with Patty and her friends.” Ruth waved her hand in the air. “I'd rather do that than some dumb class at the community center.”

Annabelle blinked at her mother and swallowed back a groan. “Mom, not the Beehive Mafia. Those women are nothing but a bunch of gossips.”