wonderful.”
“Consider it background material for your article.” She gave him a quizzical look. “It’s the state flower. Seemed appropriate. I almost brought the state bird, but after careful consideration I decided flowers would make less of a mess.”
Heat flushed Annabelle’s cheeks. It was one of the most thoughtful gestures she’d ever received. A sharp pang of guilt speared through her at the continual need to lie to this man.
“Flowers and spiffy duds. Exactly what do you plan to accomplish by this show of suaveness?” She hoped her brusque question covered how she was melting on the inside like a gooey chocolate chip cookie.
“At the most, I hope to spend the evening with you. At the very least,” he said wryly, “I hope to be able to coax another smile out of hiding.”
That did it. She couldn’t mask any longer the effect he had on her, and rewarded him with a brilliant smile. “I like a man who comes right out and states his intentions. I also like the flowers very much.”
Mrs. Haley bustled forward with a crystal vase. “Let me take those. I’ll put them in your room, Miss Annabelle.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes never left Mark’s. He crooked his arm in an unspoken invitation. Still smiling, she linked her arm with his.
“Does this mean you’ll join me for dinner?” he asked.
“You did put on a suit for me. There isn’t a woman alive who could ignore the charm of that gesture.”
“Stop teasing the boy,” Mrs. Haley scolded from the doorway.
Annabelle picked up on the warmth of familiarity in her voice. “How well do you two know each other?”
Mrs. Haley beamed fondly at Mark. “He’s the second son I never asked for. He’s been coming around since he was big enough to steal my cookies off the counter.”
“Ashby Haley’s been my best friend forever,” Mark said, with an engaging grin. “He introduced me to the wonder of his mother’s cookies one day after kindergarten. I’ve been hooked ever since.”
“Well, I can tell you right now you won’t get sweets from me tonight. Miss Annabelle deserves something fancier than cookies and milk at the kitchen table.”
“I love how you talk about me as if I’m not even here,” Annabelle commented, tongue firmly in cheek.
“Don’t be silly. If you weren’t here, who would have dinner with me?” Mark opened the front door. “No more reminiscences, Mrs. Haley. Don’t want to miss our reservations. And don’t wait up!”
Annabelle dissolved in a fit of laughter on the porch. “I feel like I’m back in high school. I haven’t heard that since the night of my senior prom. Like an idiot, my date showed up in a leather jacket instead of a tux. My father was not amused.”
“Did he still let you go?”
“Reluctantly. I had to be home an hour earlier than my usual curfew, though.”
“Sounds like Dad was a real stickler. Oh, watch your step.” Mark steadied her elbow as her heel slipped between two cobblestones.
“Thanks,” Annabelle said. “I guess twenty-first-century shoes don’t work well with seventeenth-century roads.”
“Will you survive if we walk to dinner? Just a few blocks? I’ll hang on to you the whole way,” Mark reassured her.
“Oh, I’m game. I prefer walking. It gives me a chance to soak up the flavor of a city. I can imagine what it’s like to really live there when I roam the streets. And of course,” she patted his arm, “it never hurts to have a tour guide as my escort.” Annabelle’s steps were lighthearted as they made their way into the heart of the historic district.
In one of their last conversations Vanessa had lovingly but firmly scolded her.
“All you ever do is work. Even now you’re at the top of your field—you get your choice of any assignment, and still all you do is work. You need to learn to enjoy the freedom success brings.”
“But I enjoy my work!” Annabelle protested.
“No,” Vanessa contradicted, “you bury yourself in it to the
“Consider it background material for your article.” She gave him a quizzical look. “It’s the state flower. Seemed appropriate. I almost brought the state bird, but after careful consideration I decided flowers would make less of a mess.”
Heat flushed Annabelle’s cheeks. It was one of the most thoughtful gestures she’d ever received. A sharp pang of guilt speared through her at the continual need to lie to this man.
“Flowers and spiffy duds. Exactly what do you plan to accomplish by this show of suaveness?” She hoped her brusque question covered how she was melting on the inside like a gooey chocolate chip cookie.
“At the most, I hope to spend the evening with you. At the very least,” he said wryly, “I hope to be able to coax another smile out of hiding.”
That did it. She couldn’t mask any longer the effect he had on her, and rewarded him with a brilliant smile. “I like a man who comes right out and states his intentions. I also like the flowers very much.”
Mrs. Haley bustled forward with a crystal vase. “Let me take those. I’ll put them in your room, Miss Annabelle.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes never left Mark’s. He crooked his arm in an unspoken invitation. Still smiling, she linked her arm with his.
“Does this mean you’ll join me for dinner?” he asked.
“You did put on a suit for me. There isn’t a woman alive who could ignore the charm of that gesture.”
“Stop teasing the boy,” Mrs. Haley scolded from the doorway.
Annabelle picked up on the warmth of familiarity in her voice. “How well do you two know each other?”
Mrs. Haley beamed fondly at Mark. “He’s the second son I never asked for. He’s been coming around since he was big enough to steal my cookies off the counter.”
“Ashby Haley’s been my best friend forever,” Mark said, with an engaging grin. “He introduced me to the wonder of his mother’s cookies one day after kindergarten. I’ve been hooked ever since.”
“Well, I can tell you right now you won’t get sweets from me tonight. Miss Annabelle deserves something fancier than cookies and milk at the kitchen table.”
“I love how you talk about me as if I’m not even here,” Annabelle commented, tongue firmly in cheek.
“Don’t be silly. If you weren’t here, who would have dinner with me?” Mark opened the front door. “No more reminiscences, Mrs. Haley. Don’t want to miss our reservations. And don’t wait up!”
Annabelle dissolved in a fit of laughter on the porch. “I feel like I’m back in high school. I haven’t heard that since the night of my senior prom. Like an idiot, my date showed up in a leather jacket instead of a tux. My father was not amused.”
“Did he still let you go?”
“Reluctantly. I had to be home an hour earlier than my usual curfew, though.”
“Sounds like Dad was a real stickler. Oh, watch your step.” Mark steadied her elbow as her heel slipped between two cobblestones.
“Thanks,” Annabelle said. “I guess twenty-first-century shoes don’t work well with seventeenth-century roads.”
“Will you survive if we walk to dinner? Just a few blocks? I’ll hang on to you the whole way,” Mark reassured her.
“Oh, I’m game. I prefer walking. It gives me a chance to soak up the flavor of a city. I can imagine what it’s like to really live there when I roam the streets. And of course,” she patted his arm, “it never hurts to have a tour guide as my escort.” Annabelle’s steps were lighthearted as they made their way into the heart of the historic district.
In one of their last conversations Vanessa had lovingly but firmly scolded her.
“All you ever do is work. Even now you’re at the top of your field—you get your choice of any assignment, and still all you do is work. You need to learn to enjoy the freedom success brings.”
“But I enjoy my work!” Annabelle protested.
“No,” Vanessa contradicted, “you bury yourself in it to the
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