'Don't you
'-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.
Heath 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.
He held on to the image, savored it, and then, with a pang of regret, let it go. There'd be no marching band, no proposal by the lakefront, not even a ring to seal the exact moment he asked her to marry him, since the one he'd chosen wouldn't be ready until next week. He was abandoning his perfect plan because, after meeting the Granger family and seeing how much they meant to one another-how much Annabelle meant to them-he knew they had to be part of this.
The waiter disappeared, leaving them with fresh coffee and dessert. Across the table Annabelle was hissing at St. Louis's preeminent heart surgeon, who'd twisted a lock of her hair around his finger and announced he wouldn't let go until she told everyone about the time she wet her pants at Laurie somebody's birthday party.
Heath rose to his feet. Adam dropped Annabelle's hair, and she kicked him under the table. 'Ouch!' Adam rubbed his leg. 'That hurt!'
'Good.'
'Children…'
Heath smiled. He loved this. 'I hope nobody minds, but I have a couple of things to say. First, you're terrific people. Thanks for letting me be a part of this evening.'
A chorus of 'Here, here' followed, accompanied by the clink of wineglasses. Only Annabelle remained silent and suspicious, but what he was about to say should wipe that frown right off her face.
'I wasn't fortunate enough to grow up with a family like yours. I think all of you know how lucky you are to have one another.' He gazed at Annabelle, but she was trying to find her napkin, which Adam had passed under the table to Doug. He waited until her head came back up.
'It's been almost five months since you barged into my office wearing that awful yellow suit, Annabelle. In that time, you've turned my life upside down.'
Kate's hand shot out, bracelets jangling. 'If you'll just be patient, I'm sure she'll do her very best to make things right. Annabelle is an extremely hard worker. Granted, her professional methods might not be what you're accustomed to, but her heart's in the right place.'
Doug snapped a pen from his pocket. 'I'm planning to go over all her records before I leave. With a little reorganization, a firmer hand on the reins, her operation should be stabilized in no time.'
Annabelle set her chin in her hand and sighed.
'This isn't about Perfect for You,' Heath said.
They regarded him blankly.
'She renamed her company,' he said patiently. 'It's no longer Marriages by Myrna. She calls it Perfect for You.'
Adam gazed at her in puzzlement. 'Is that true?'
Candace adjusted an earring. 'Couldn't you have found something catchier?'
'I don't remember hearing about this,' Doug said.
'Neither do I.' Chet set down his coffee cup. 'Nobody tells me anything.'
'I told you,' Kate replied tartly. 'Unfortunately, I didn't have it announced on the Golf Channel.'
'What kind of company?' Lucille said.
While Adam explained that his sister was a matchmaker, Doug pulled out his BlackBerry. 'I'm sure it didn't occur to you to investigate trademark protection.'
Heath realized he was losing them, and he turned up the volume. 'The point is… Until I met Annabelle, I thought I had my life figured out, but it didn't take her long to point out that I'd made some serious errors in my calculations.'
