Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Annalee

An hour and a half.

That was how long we had been driving for.

Want to know how much of that time was spent in conversation?

Zilch.

Zero.

Nada.

Owen hadn't spoken a word to me the entire drive and I was too damn proud to open my mouth first. I wasn't thrilled we were headed to Texas, and I didn't exactly agree to it.

I didn't exactly argue either after Owen pointed out that my father probably knew what would happen and wanted me safe. All my life I assumed he was ignorant to the ways of my stepmother and stepbrother but maybe that wasn't the case. Or at least, not at the end. Something had to have happened for him to suddenly change his will. I just wish he would've spoken to me about it, rather than sending me a cryptic note. It was hard to be prepared when I had no idea what to expect.

"We're meeting up with one of my teammates here shortly."

"He speaks!" I gasped. "And here I thought you suddenly went mute."

Sarcasm was my default when I was uncomfortable, and right now, I was about as uncomfortable as one could get. Owen had the nerve to laugh at my expense.

"I figured you would enjoy some peace and quiet. I see I was wrong. I'll make a note for the future."

I crossed my arms and flopped back into the seat. I didn't know what to do with Owen. He was attractive and that irritated me. If I had to guess, I would say mid-fifties. If I googled the term silver fox, I’m sure his picture would pop up. And it would be one with that damn hidden dimple popping out. I first noticed it when he smirked at me but it was glaringly obvious when he laughed. The scruff on his face did a good job of hiding it most of the time but twice now I was gifted with its appearance. And that only made him more attractive in my book.

"Quiet is overrated," I mumbled under my breath.

I was essentially an only child, my stepbrother notwithstanding. I was thirteen when my father met Seraphina and Dennis was seventeen. Up until they moved in, I was on my own. My father traveled a lot and was busy with work. My mother was great but as a young girl I wanted other children my age to play with. That rarely happened. Then Seraphina came into our lives and the attention I was used to from both my mother and father disappeared. My stepmother felt a nanny should raise me or I was old enough to do things on my own. She only ever acknowledged me when she needed something.

"What made you choose Willow Creek?"

I was grateful for the change of subject, and the small talk.

"I wanted the opposite of where I grew up, so I searched small towns in Texas. Willow Creek was the second place to pop up. I visited their website and saw all the pictures. I immediately fell in love with the vibe they gave off and wanted to visit the different places on Main Street. I saw the listing for the receptionist position and figured, what could it hurt? I was qualified."

"You mean you were overqualified."

I lifted my shoulder in response. It wasn't like I needed to work. I could've lived off the inheritance my mother left me. I didn't need what was in my father's will. But the thought of sitting around, doing nothing day in and day out, didn't appeal to me. I looked forward to keeping myself busy.

"If you say so."

"Pretty sure a master’s in applied economics makes you overqualified to answer phones and schedule meetings."

I blew out a long breath because what I was about to say was going to make me sound like the spoiled rich kid I technically was. "I didn't get my master's because I loved the field of study. I was bored. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life, so after I got my bachelor's degree, I continued on. I'm good with numbers." Then I corrected myself. "No, actually, I'm fantastic with numbers and economics came easy to me, so I figured why not. I haven't used my degree since I graduated college over seventeen years ago."

"How come?"

That was the million-dollar question and my answer would only further make me sound snooty.

"Because I still don't know what I want to do with my life. My stepmother liked to call me flaky and maybe she's right. I get bored after a few months and tend to move on to new things. But I've always supported myself. I lucked out with my apartment. It was only a studio, so the rent wasn't outrageous, considering the location. I was smart with my money. I preferred to hunt for deals and shop vintage rather than go to an expensive department store. I have a trust fund from my mother that I've only dipped into once despite getting monthly stipends from it. I'm the opposite of my stepmother and stepbrother. I think it's why they hate me so much."

"What did you buy?"

"Huh?" I turned in the passenger seat and looked at him. I had no clue what he was asking me.

"You said you only dipped into your trust fund once. What did you buy?"

Of course he thought I bought something. Wasn't that what all rich women did?

"I invested in my former nanny's new business. She dreamed of opening a restaurant, so I helped make it happen."

Patty was the closest thing I had to a mother figure after my own mother got sick. The last two years of her life were spent bedridden with cancer. If it weren't for Patty, I would've withered away with my mother. As great as my father was, business always came first.

"Oh."

It shouldn't surprise me to hear the shock in his voice. I'm used to people underestimating me. When your family’s net worth is in the billions, people tend to look at you differently.

"It's successful, by the way." The confused look on his face had me further explaining. "The restaurant she opened. It's successful and I don't take a dime from it. She wanted me to be a silent partner but I refused. It was my gift to her for all she did to help me through the worst years of my life."

Watching a mother slowly fade away would be difficult for anyone, but a ten-year-old? It was even harder. The first year they tried intensive chemotherapy but it was too late. The cancer just kept spreading from organ to organ over time. Just when they thought they had a handle on things, it would pop up somewhere new.

"I'm sorry about your mother and father. It sucks losing both of them." He sounded like he knew from experience, but before I could ask him more, we were pulling into a rest area.

We parked next to a lifted Jeep with no doors or roof.

"I can't see how driving down the highway in that would be safe." I nodded to the vehicle in question.

Owen chuckled. "I'll be sure to let Lex know you're worried about his safety."

My head whipped around. "Wait, that's your friend’s ride?"

A man with a long thick beard, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, and shaved gray sides walked over and leaned against the hood of the Jeep. He was sporting a denim shirt rolled up past his elbows and showcasing some serious arm porn. Those babies were stuff that romance novels were made of.

"Come on. I'll introduce you. Don't be offended if he doesn't talk much. It's not his style."

Owen wasn't kidding. After being introduced, the man barely gave me a chin lift before his attention was back on his friend. "We ready?"

"Give us five to use the facilities and then yeah, we can head out." Owen turned to walk away but then stopped. "By the way, Annalee here is concerned about your safety in that piece of junk."

I was pretty sure my face sported a shade of red that, given other circumstances, would've had doctors concerned. I was still trying to come up with a plausible reason we were talking about his vehicle when Lex showed off a net that I could only assume was his version of a door.

Owen chuckled and Lex merely looked bored as I hightailed my ass to use the restroom. I had a feeling we wouldn't be stopping often, so I used the time afforded to me wisely.

No further words were exchanged before we hit the road again. Just like last time, Owen barely spoke. Eighties rock bands blared through the radio, and at some point, the lack of conversation could no longer keep me awake. I fell asleep with thoughts of a new life on the horizon.