Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Annalee

I stood frozen behind the door and listened as my neighbor spoke to the man who interviewed me over the phone for the job that was supposed to change my life for the better.

To be a fresh start.

"You need to go out there and speak to him," Betsy hissed. She was eighty-five years old but didn't look a day over sixty. She reminded me of Betty White and would likely live as long as the actress.

"No, I don't," I whispered back even though it was pointless. He couldn't hear us now that the door was closed.

When I had first looked for apartments, I thought it was great to find a newer building that offered privacy in the form of soundproof walls.

Boy was I wrong. It would've been nice if one of my neighbors could've heard my apartment being trashed. Then maybe the cops could've shown up and caught Dennis in the act without me being stuck in the middle of the situation.

"And why the hell not?"

"Hello?" I threw my arms out to the side. "Have you not seen what happened this week? Why the hell would I bring those types of problems to someone else's door? You and I both know he wouldn't care who I was working for, Dennis would find a way to make my life miserable."

"This is supposed to be a fresh start for you. You said so yourself," Betsy reminded me.

It was, and damn, I had been looking forward to it. I looked up the pictures of Willow Creek on their website and fell in love instantly with the small town. I could just see myself eating lunch at the Crazy Fox and picking out books at The Book Boudoir. Too bad one afternoon changed all that.

"That was before Dad's attorney read his will. Now it's nothing but a pipe dream."

Mrs. Robbins crossed her arms and gave me the grandmother look. The one that screamed she was disappointed in me. I hated that look.

"You and I both know that fine gentleman out there wasn't asking questions just for the hell of it. He saw your apartment. You need to go out there and explain why you stood him up."

Betsy made it sound like Owen was my date rather than just someone who was supposed to interview me. And did she have to say he was fine looking? His voice alone had done crazy things to my lady bits. If he was attractive on top of it, that would be too much.

"I'm not going out there." I stomped my foot like the ungrateful brat my stepmother always called me.

"Yes, you are." Mrs. Robbins grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the corner. For an older woman, she was pretty damn strong.

And it wasn't like I could put up much of a fight. How would it look if I slapped her hand away? She would cry elder abuse and then I would feel like a jerk.

So there I was, not dragging my feet like I wanted to as she slipped the chain from the door and threw it open.

"My apologies,” Mrs. Robbins said. “I wasn't aware of who you were. Never can be too careful, but I believe this is the woman you were looking for."

I might not have been able to smack her hand away but that didn't stop me from throwing a dirty look at my neighbor.

The traitor.

What happened to always having my back? Obviously that didn't apply when handsome men came knocking, and damn, Owen was the sexiest man I had ever seen. Piercing blue eyes stared back at me. His salt-and-pepper hair was styled in a way that said he jumped out of the shower and ran his fingers through it. Then there was his nicely trimmed beard; the whiskers around his mouth hinted to the black his hair color used to be, but the more it climbed up his cheek, the grayer it got.

And that was just his face. I didn't even want to see what the rest of his body looked like. If his face was any indication, I was going to be a blubbering mess and I didn't have time for that. I needed to stand my ground.

"Annalee Bruce?"

"The one and only." I made sure to lace my tone with how I really felt about being forced into the hallway.

"Actually, there are several more scattered throughout the United States but you’re the only one in Baton Rouge."

Oh great. Not only was he attractive but sarcastic to boot. That was my frigging kryptonite.

"Was there something I could do for you?"

The faster I found out why he was here, the faster I could get rid of him. Owen would be detrimental to my health, and considering the only action my vagina saw these days was from my dildo, I needed him to leave before I begged him to make me come just from his voice alone.

"Why didn't you show up for your interview?"

Was he serious? This man drove nearly eight hours to ask me why I didn't show up for my interview.

"I changed my mind."

It was clear he didn't believe me. I wouldn't have either considering it was only the partial truth.

"You changed your mind, or someone changed it for you?"

His insinuation further irked me. It didn't matter that he was on the right track. My apartment was proof of that. I looked over at my apartment door. I wish I could say what happened surprised me, but it didn't. Nothing about my current situation shocked me anymore. It was why I had been hell-bent on getting the out of the area, but once again, my choices were taken from me. It didn't matter where I moved, nothing would be different.

"Does it matter?"

Owen crowded my space just enough to make sure he had my attention, but not enough to appear threatening. It was crazy to think how easily he figured me out. Or maybe he was just used to dealing with women in precarious situations.

"It matters to me."

I had to fight to swallow. Suddenly my throat felt constricted.

"Why?" I pushed the one word out, but it was more of a wheeze than an actual question.

"Because everyone deserves to make their own choices and something tells me you haven't been able to do that lately."

If only he knew. Then again, maybe he did. It was clear he looked me up. I'm sure someone could find just about anything online and even more so if the person was in the security business like Owen was.

A college student from a few doors down stepped into the hallway but didn't pay us any attention as he walked to the elevator.

"Do you mind if we take this inside?" I motioned toward my apartment. Better to be safe than sorry and I didn't need anyone else knowing my business.

Owen followed me inside and the reality of what happened hit me full force all over again. The apartment I worked meticulously to make my own was destroyed. The lamp I spent weekends rummaging through yard sales to find, lay smashed in a million pieces. The couch I fell in love with while walking past an antique furniture store was turned upside down and a knife was taken to it, leaving the beautiful fabric to litter my already disastrous floor.

"Do you have any idea who did this?" Owen pulled me out of the dark place my mind was desperately trying to crawl into. The dark recesses of my mind got me through many agonizing nights.

"I know exactly who did it, but this changes nothing. I can't pick up and move to Willow Creek. Not now."

Owen looked around at the same disaster I was seeing. Except he didn't know the crocheted blanket on the floor was handmade by my grandmother and given to me as a graduation gift. Most of the kids I went to high school with wanted money or cars to celebrate their milestone. I had been happy with the gift made from love.

"I would think now would be the perfect time since you can't stay here."

"Sure I can." I shrugged my shoulder like it was no big deal.

"Someone broke into your apartment and destroyed the place. This building isn't safe."

I didn't mean to do it, but hysteria took over. Laughter bubbled out of me so hard I had to bend over just to try and control it a little.

It didn't do any good. Tears leaked from the corner of my eyes and I was positive Owen was questioning my sanity.

Hell, I was questioning it.

When I finally got myself under control—well, somewhat—I wiped a stray tear off my cheek and looked into his oceanic-blue eyes. "Not sure how good you are at your job but no one broke in. They used a key."

Owen stomped over to the door and checked for himself. At least I can only assume that was what he was doing—he looked at the lock, the doorjamb, back at the lock, back at the doorjamb, and even stepped into the hall a few times. This went on for a good two minutes before he charged back to where I stood.

"Why the hell would someone who has a key to your apartment trash it? And how exactly do you know what happened?"

He wasn't going to quit and I didn't have it in me to keep dodging questions. At this point I might as well tell him about my crazy life. Maybe that would get him to leave me in peace and head back to Willow Creek, far away from my insane problems.

"Because it was my stepbrother. He all but told me this was his plan as he yelled at me on the phone. I thought I had time to leave before he got here but he was already outside in the hallway. Thankfully, Mrs. Robbins likes to keep her balcony door open, so I jumped from mine to hers and asked if I could hide there until things calmed down."

If I thought my explanation would scare Owen off, I was wrong. The shade of red that moved up his neck and face told a different story and I wasn't sure I was ready for the blowup.