“Thank you,” Annabelle smiled, handing her the appropriate folder. Cassie and Annabelle had been friends for so many years, Annabelle had quit counting them. Three years ago, Cassie was working as a medical assistant in a primary care physician’s office. One morning, she’d had the audacity and courage to tell one of her boss’s patients that he may not have to take so much blood pressure medication if he would simply stop eating cheese and fried chicken and exercise once in a while. Consequently, Cassie had been fired. And then black-listed from every doctor’s office in the state.
Fortunately for her, she’d already known Annabelle a long time. Also fortunately, one of her favorite hobbies and pastimes was photography. The combination of photography and Annabelle’s friendship inevitably led to Annabelle teaching her how to use Photoshop. So, when Cassie was fired, she was ecstatic, if not all that surprised, when Annabelle finagled an extra position out of her boss, Max Anderson. She’d convinced Max that they could use the help. And as things would turn out, they really did need the help after all.
“I was already thinking along the lines of something like a light forest. If that helps.” Annabelle smiled sheepishly and Cassie nodded.
“I can see it. I’ll go ahead and give it a shot and let you take a look.”
As Annabelle nodded, Max took another deep breath, sighing. “Great. Thanks, ladies.”
They turned to face him as he then looked down at the laptop he removed from beneath his arm. It wasn’t Max’s laptop, or at least not his newest model. In fact, Annabelle didn’t recognize it. It was a Mac and Max owned a Toshiba.
“Whose laptop?” she asked casually.
He didn’t answer for a moment, simply staring at the machine in his hands. And then, in a voice tainted distant and soft with memories, he replied, “Teresa’s.”
Max’s dead wife. She’d been a designer for a pharmaceutical company when she’d died. She and Max had met in a mutual class for design basics and had fallen in love. Supposedly, Teresa had been quite talented.
“I found it last night while I was going through some old boxes of stuff in the attic because we found a leak a few weeks ago.” He ran one hand over the lid of the laptop, his expression growing steadily more distant. “I thought MedicArt had appropriated this when she died, but it was in a separate box with some old kitchen things. One that I’d always thought had a coffee pot in it.” He smiled strangely. “No coffee pot.”
The room grew silent as he stared at the machine in his hands. And then Cassie cleared her throat and Annabelle straightened. Max seemed to pull himself out of his temporary stupor and adjusted the glasses on his face. “Well, I’m going to see if I can clean it off a little and use it for work. Shouldn’t take too long, I think. Then I’ll help you with the Mackenzie file.” He nodded at Annabelle and she nodded back, smiling gently.
Max turned and headed back down the hallway and then ducked into his office.
Cassie and Annabelle turned to look at one another. Neither spoke, as words weren’t necessary. They each knew what was on the others’ mind.
Then, as one, they turned to their computer screens and began to work.
A few hours later, Annabelle returned from a break and headed down the hallway toward Max’s office. She thought she would check on him.
At the doorway to his office, she caught the last few words of something he was uttering just under his breath.
“…one point seven…”
She knocked on the door, which was slightly ajar. Max’s head snapped up, his attention pulled from the laptop’s computer screen, which he’d been staring at intently.
“Everything going okay?” Annabelle asked.
“Uh… yes. Yes. Come in. Are you and Cassie about to head out to lunch?”
“In a few minutes. Would you like me to pick you up anything?”
Max blinked. His glasses were slightly crooked on his nose. His brow was furrowed and the cup of coffee he’d most likely poured himself that morning sat untouched on his desk, alongside piles of paper and Teresa’s laptop.
Annabelle frowned at the coffee. Max never let it get cold. He always downed the brew before it had a chance to stop steaming.
She turned her attention back to her boss and entered the small office, pulling the door softly shut behind her. “How is it going with Teresa’s computer?”
“It’s…” Max cleared his throat, glancing from the screen to Annabelle. Then he straightened, closed the lid on the laptop and turned his full attention to her. “It’s going well. I should have it cleaned off by tonight. Maybe you can even use it to work on a few things.”
Annabelle’s brow shot up. “Oh?” He was going to give her homework? Not on her watch. One thing Annabelle prided herself on was her ability to leave her work at
Max watched her for a moment and then broke into a smile. He chuckled softly, his green eyes sparkling. He pulled his glasses off and placed them on the desk, not taking his gaze from hers. “Okay, no. Never mind that. Forget I said it. Change of subject.”
Annabelle nodded, once.
“When are you going to come back over for dinner?”
Annabelle blinked. Then she straightened, stuffing her fingers in the back pockets of her jeans. “Are you going to cook, or is Dylan?”
Max looked down at his hands and then back up at her, his gaze intense, his eyes like green fires in the handsome frame of his face. “Dylan won’t be there.”
Annabelle stared at him, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. So, here it was. Her boss was finally making that move. She’d wondered when it would happen. A part of her had been afraid of it. He was her boss. It was awkward. But, a part of her – a bigger part – had not been so afraid. In fact, that part of her had more or less fantasized…
“I guess… Whenever you take it upon yourself to invite me.” Annabelle answered softly.
Max stood then, and moved around the desk. Suddenly, the air in the office seemed thicker than normal. Annabelle prevented herself from taking a step back. Max was well-built and a good amount taller than her, as were most of the men she knew. And his presence suddenly filled the space between them with something akin to a kind of heat.
He came to stand before her, a mere foot away. “You’re invited,” he said, his voice low, his tone warm. “How about Friday night?” He smiled then, flashing perfect white teeth. He raised a hand to take a lock of her long strawberry hair between his fingers. But his eyes never left hers. “We can celebrate getting Mackenzie off of our backs.”
Annabelle drew in a somewhat unsteady breath and licked her lips. Which automatically made her think of his. So close. She closed her eyes and forced a little laugh. “You really think we’ll be rid of them after this job?”
“If not, then we’ll just get drunk for the sake of it.”
This time, Annabelle really did laugh, and Max let go of her hair and took a step back. “Speaking of which, how are you feeling?”
Annabelle’s eyes widened. Her blush deepened. “You knew all along, didn’t you?”
“That you’d gone on a bender and had a rough morning for it? That your car was impounded yesterday and that Jack drove you home and then lent you his bike? That you slugged someone for insulting your hockey hero?” His grin turned playful. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Annabelle stared at him, shaking her head in silence. She wasn’t even going to ask him how he’d known about the hockey squabble. Everything else was a good enough guess, and the impounded car, he could have gotten a call about that morning, since it was her work number she’d put on the sheet she’d had to sign. But the fight, he would had to have seen or been told about. He was a Minnesota Wild fan too. She was guessing he’d had a friend at the bar.
“Okay, you got me. And I’m feeling better, thank you.”
Max nodded. “You know you don’t have to lie to me, Anna. I may be your employer, but I’m also human.”
