Revealing Annie - Freya Barker Page 0,63
but I don’t budge.
Eventually she caves and hands me one of the drinks.
“Oh, fine. But if I see one tear on her.”
“Fair warning, there may be tears. I’ve just come from a fire at her place. There’s nothing left, Margaret.”
Her face falls and she makes a sympathetic sound. Then she walks up to the small window and lifts up on her toes to see through.
“Well, son of a bitch.”
Annie
As I’d hoped Margaret was here when I walked in, having allowed myself a good cry in the parking lot. She didn’t ask any questions, just gave me a hug, accompanied by a muttered string of curses, and told me she’d listen if I was ready to talk.
When I mentioned I just needed some unconditional puppy love, she told me to ‘have at it’ and she’d be back with some drinks.
Hunter is a good one for judgment-free dog cuddles and all-in for sharing some loving. Out of habit I grab an old copy of Watership Down by Richard Adams and sit on the floor with him.
At some point I hear Margaret talking to someone in the front office and put the book down. Hunter whines when I get up, maybe realizing he’s about to go back in the kennel. If it were up to me, I’d take him home; a dog this generous with his affection should be surrounded by people who can give it back. Instead he spends most of his time in a kennel while waiting for his owner to get back home.
I should check with Margaret to see what the news is on her.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” I promise him.
I’m just putting the latch on the gate when the door opens and he walks in. Tears instantly burn my eyes and I quickly avert them. I’m determined not to shed one—not in front of him—I’ll save them for later.
“What do you want, Sumo?”
I hear his sharp intake of breath at my use of his nickname. It’s easier; already detaching myself by using the name everyone calls him.
“Annie-chan, why did you run?” His voice is gentle, which makes it only more difficult to hold onto my determination not to show emotion. When I don’t answer he prompts. “You don’t have to say anything, Annie. I’ll do the talking.”
“Nothing to talk about.” I find my voice and it sounds harsh, even to my own ears.
“I’m gonna say it anyway,” he persists. “I know what you heard.”
My body involuntarily jerks.
“I also know you didn’t stay to hear all of it or you would’ve known neither Tony nor I agreed with those words quoted from the LAPD police report.”
A spark of hope flares in my chest but still I force myself not to look up, even though I want to. I’m afraid all it will take is one look at those warm, brown eyes of his and I’ll be utterly vulnerable and stripped raw.
“It was Miles Coxwell who convinced the officer on record that you were mentally unstable.”
Now it’s my turn to sharply suck air into my lungs and my eyes snap up. Sympathy is stamped all over his face, or is it pity?
“Miles? Why?” The words are out before I can check them, because I’m suddenly reminded of an argument I had with my agent before David died.
“They’ve been trying to get ahold of him to find out why, but haven’t had much success.”
“I may know,” I share. “For the longest time he convinced me the notes and gifts were probably just an overzealous fan, but when they turned ugly, I told him I would file a report with police. He wasn’t happy and strongly advised against it.”
“But you did anyway.”
Sympathy is replaced by clear appreciation in his eyes, encouraging me to go on.
“I did. I basically told him to fuck off when he suggested I was overreacting.”
“Good for you.” He takes a step closer and puts his hands loosely on my shoulders. “You did the right thing, but why would he be so set against it? Is there any way he could be responsible for sending them in the first place?”
I’d thought about that. After Keith found that tracker in my purse I’d wondered if it was Miles himself who’d put it there.
“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “I know at the time he was actively shopping me around for a movie role. He was determined to give my career a boost onto the big screen, before I was too old to fit the market.”
That had been another