a while, so she has a chance to find someone to mend it, although the hole is so big it looks a little beyond repair.
Oh well. It’s only a cardigan, and Annabel can always hide it until she goes, then if Kit decides to have another freak-out like the one earlier, Annabel will be on the other side of the Atlantic.
In fact, she’s been trying to get hold of her dad to send her some more money because she’s been spending it like water since she got here, and the money he gave her to last her the trip is pretty much gone.
He’s been really difficult to get hold of, which is unlike him. He has always been there for her, has sacrificed so much to be the most wonderful father she could have imagined, always helping her, always bailing her out when she got into trouble. He looked after her financially during all those stints in rehab, and he still supports her now as she attempts to find her true path, this time, she hopes, as an actress.
She doesn’t know what she’d do without him. Sure, there have been boyfriends in the past but they have been terrible and abusive, treating her like dirt. No, the only man she has ever been able to truly rely on is her dad.
She has always been able to count on him. Which is why it’s so odd that he hasn’t returned her calls. She hopes he is okay, but as Adam opens the door, a mixture of happiness, expectation and nervousness in his eyes, she forgets all about her father and steps into the house.
Chapter Twenty-three
“Wine?” Adam leads Annabel into the kitchen, unable to stop smiling, knowing he has an ulterior motive, and happy just to be in her company.
“No thank you. I don’t drink.”
His face falls. He has been out this afternoon and stocked up on everything he will need for tonight. Wine, vodka, cranberry juice. Salmon, spinach, shallots. The Joy of Cooking lies open on the counter, and the salmon is poaching gently in white wine and butter. He has forgotten she didn’t drink.
“Oh. Cranberry juice? ” He opens the fridge.
“Don’t worry. I’m fine with water.”
“Are you sure? ” He squints into the fridge, his heart sinking. “I have . . . lemonade? Or chocolate milk? ”
Annabel laughs. “As tempting as the chocolate milk may be, I’ll stick with water.” She walks over to the stove, and lifts up the lid of one of the pots, leaning down to smell. Adam watches her hold her hair out of the way, and aches to touch her.
She looks up. “Something smells amazing.”
“I hope it is. It’s salmon poached in white wine . . . Oh shit. Wine. You don’t drink. Do you eat alcohol?” He attempts a laugh.
“No. Oh God. Now I’m sorry. You’ve clearly gone to so much trouble, and I had no idea. Honestly, though, I’m not that hungry.”
“I have some more salmon in the fridge. Why don’t I cook that one separately for you? I can just grill it.”
“Are you sure? ”
“Absolutely. And I promise you there isn’t a drop of alcohol in the soup.”
Annabel laughs. “Thank you for being so understanding. I wish I could eat that salmon but one sip of alcohol and you’ll probably find me rolling around underneath a skip within a few hours.”
“Skip? ”
“Dumpster.” She laughs.
“You were that bad? ”
“I wasn’t good. Although I will say I never actually did end up under a dumpster. Close, though.” She smiles, and Adam can’t tell if she’s joking or not. “But I’m not here to talk about me,” she says. “I’m here because I’m intrigued.”
Adam’s heart skips a beat. “You are? By what, may I ask? ”
“By your idea to throw a surprise party for Kit. I think it’s a wonderful idea, and I love that her ex-husband would do that for her. I think the two of you set such an amazing example for the children.”
“Thank you.” Adam manages to hide his disappointment.
“So,” Annabel perches on a stool at the counter and Adam places a tall glass of iced water in front of her, “what are you thinking of doing? ”
Robert McClore snores loudly as Tracy shakes him gently, but there is no waking him tonight.
She sighs, and moves back to her side of the bed. She wants to tell him. Tell him about Jed. Tell him about Jed’s plan, and why she went along with it, and how she never expected to fall in