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He opened his mouth to suggest she join them in the study, but she spoke first.
“I’ll call you when dinner is ready.” She left the room without another word.
Dante stared after her, an odd emotion sweeping through his chest.
“Dante, are you ready?”
“Right behind you.”
8
Annabelle parked her car in the driveway behind a huge white catering van. The front door was open, and servers dressed in white jackets and black slacks ferried covered containers of food indoors. Meanwhile, other workers wheeled tables and stacked chairs around the side of the house destined for the backyard where the engagement party was scheduled to unfold in several hours.
Inside, Grace directed traffic to the kitchen, where Annabelle was certain their chef and other household staff waited. She smiled at Grace, and the older woman acknowledged her with a quick nod before her attention was taken by a young man wheeling in a cart filled with a variety of liquors.
Annabelle ran up the winding staircase and left them to their tasks. She had her own to accomplish.
The past few weeks had passed in a blur of planning for the party and the wedding. She had seen Dante only twice in that period, and one of those times had been on a video call to discuss the final numbers for the guest list. He had been out of town all week, leaving her to finalize the details for their engagement party. Granted, this whole charade was her idea, but she was miffed by his lack of interest.
Her father, on the other hand, was very involved and had injected his wishes regarding the engagement party guest list and other areas—including the catering company—which belonged to a longtime friend of his. Because of his involvement, the small gathering of guests she’d wanted had ballooned beyond close friends and family to include business associates and more people in his circle than hers. All because her father was excited to have the great Dante Escarra back in his family, and he wanted the world to know.
When she pushed open the door to her bedroom, her best friend Lacey was already there, seated in an overstuffed chair in front of the duvet-covered bed, legs propped on an ottoman. When Annabelle entered, she looked up from her phone.
“There you are. I was about to call you,” her friend said.
“I had to make a stop on the way home, and then I got stuck in traffic.”
Annabelle crossed the white carpet to her vintage makeup vanity. The stylish furniture was gold and seafoam-green, its colors blending well with the pastel decor of her bedroom. On top, she displayed a collection of vintage perfume bottles in a bejeweled vanity tray. These were her favorite ones, but the rest of the collection resided on built-in shelves in the closet.
She placed her purse on the vanity and turned to face her friend. “What are you doing here so early?”
“I came to see if you needed help.”
Lacey was tall and svelte with porcelain skin and a very short blonde pixie cut. She had modeled for a few years but discovered she enjoyed designing clothes more than she liked walking the runway in them. Her parents, however, had not been excited about yet another of her entrepreneurial ideas and refused to finance her designer aspirations. If she wanted to be successful, she had to succeed on her own.
Annabelle wholeheartedly supported her friend. Some people took a little longer to figure out what they wanted to do with their lives. The same had happened to her. Her friend needed support, not criticism.
“I’m fine. I’m going to take a long soak in the tub. Rocky and Clari will be here in an hour to help me get ready,” she said, referring to her makeup artist and his hair stylist wife. They worked as a team, and she always called them for major events when she wanted to look her best.
Lacey bit the corner of her lip, a frown creasing her brow.
“What’s that look on your face?” Annabelle asked, placing a hand on her hip.
“Hear me out. I know we’ve talked about this before, butare you sure? There’s no other way to convince your father to recommend you as CEO to the board?”
Annabelle released an exaggerated sigh. “Believe me, if there was, I would jump at the chance. I wouldn’t have approached Dante about getting married if I wasn’t absolutely certain there was no other way to take control of Daddy’s company. Do you think Iwantto do this? My father will only consider letting me take over if he believes I’ll be able to consult with Dante. Otherwise, he’d rather merge with Albert’s firm and let him take charge. Daddy is loyal to him because… well, he’s a loyal person. He believed Albert when he said there would be no layoffs and the company will remain the same. I know that’s not true. Not only will there be layoffs, but the entire culture of the company will change.”
“Albert has known your father a long time and expects the merger to take place. If it doesn’t, who knows what he might do.”
Annabelle had thought about his reaction, but she could handle Albert. “What can he do? Nothing. Once my father recommends me to the board—which I’m confident will happen—Albert can forget about becoming CEO of the merged companies. Plain and simple. I went to college, earned my degree, and put in five years at myfamily’scompany. I deserve the opportunity to run Buchanan & Buchanan.”
If her brother were alive, there would be no question that he’d take over. It had been expected and welcomed. Why should things be different for Annabelle? She was Clifton’s only heir, and as chief development officer, she was responsible for land acquisition, project design, and construction planning. She had growth plans already sketched out for her father’s firm. He only had to give her a chance.
Lacey’s eyes turned sympathetic. “I’m not denying you’ve worked hard, but I’m worried you can’t stop Albert.”
Annabelle shrugged, dismissing her friend’s concern. “There’s nothing he can do. The bottom line is, Dante and I are going to get married very soon, and then Daddy will talk to the board. They listen to what he says, so I’ll become the new CEO. The end.”
An amused smile softened Lacey’s lips. “Well, you certainly have everyone talking. You’re all over the blogs and society pages. When you came in, I was reading the latest onHouston Society’sonline magazine.They devoted anentirecolumn to you and Dante.”
