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"It's going to be everywhere," Annie said again, avoiding my gaze.
I’d let it go for now. She needed time to think through what had happened between us. Maybe I did too. “Again, I don't care. What I'm mostly worried about is what we're going to eat for dinner. I'm really hungry."
She laughed. "I know how to make an omelet if I really have to."
"Great. I know how to make toast."
“What more do we need?”
Nothing. As long as we were together.
8
ANNIE
Iwasn’t sure what had shaken me more, the paparazzi or the kiss. Now they were intertwined. It seemed that’s how my life went. All good events were mixed up with bad ones. I couldn’t just isolate one part of my life from the other.
A moment I’d been waiting for all my life, although I didn’t know it, had just transpired in Atticus’s truck. The first evening after I hadn’t seen him for over two decades andwe were making out like teenagers. The chemistry was explosive between us. His touch had lit a fire in me from the inside out. His kiss had been like no other kiss ever. And now it was tainted by the stupid, invasive cameras and the nasty men attached to them.
“Put it out of your mind for tonight,” Atticus said. “I’ll open wine, and we’ll make omelets and potatoes. Do you remember the kind my mom used to make?”
“Oh yeah. In her cast-iron skillet with the onions, right? I haven’t had those in years. I don’t really eat many carbs.”
“I’m sorry. We can skip the potatoes if you want.”
I laughed at the sorrow in his eyes. “We can have them. Mynutrition coach is enjoying time with her family. She won’t even know.”
“You have an eating coach?” Atticus poured some red wine into a glass and slid it across the island toward me.
Overhead, I heard a helicopter. “Do you hear them?” I asked.
“Yeah, I do. Ignore them. They can’t get in here.”
I took a carton of eggs out of the refrigerator and started beating them in a bowl. Atticus got a pan out for the potatoes and chopped them into cubes while I did the onions.
I wiped my eyes. “These onions are terrible,” I said.
“I should have taken that job.” Atticus came to stand beside me and reached into his pocket for a tissue. Gently, he dabbed at my eyes. “Should we talk about what happened?”
I swallowed. I didn’t want to talk about it, analyze it to death as I did everything else. But I was an adult. Adults had to talk about these things.
“What would you like to say about it? That it was a mistake?” I braced myself for what was coming. My God, the poor man had just been photographed during a very private moment. I was used to it, but he wasn’t. Plus, I’d signed up for this, whereas he was only an innocent bystander.
Watching me, he blinked. From the onions or surprise at what I said? I wasn’t sure.
“I do not think it was a mistake.” He folded his arms over his broad chest. He’d changed into a tighter sweatshirt after the turkey near-escape, and it left little to the imagination about what lay beneath. “Shall I repeat myself?”
“No, I got it,” I said.
“Doyouthink it was a mistake?” The sparkle in his eyes dimmed, as though he expected bad news.
I would surprise him as he had me. “I have two things to say. In my opinion, it was not a mistake.”
His face immediately brightened. “Good. Because it…was great. I mean, from my perspective.”
I wanted to just lean into it, give myself over to the possibility of something special happening between us. My longing for love and a partner had risen like the phoenix in his company. However, I knew what it would mean to his life. With me in it, everything would be more complicated. All privacy sacrificed. His personal life scrutinized. Perhaps even his business dealings could be torn apart.
“Two,” I said, ignoring his interruption, “it was better than great.”Magicalwas the word that came to mind. “I didn’t see this coming.”
