He pushed off the bed and stood naked, facing her. He was amazing-looking and Anna had to fight hard not to be distracted. “What? What do you mean what I think of you?”
This was harder than she had expected it to be, but Anna kept going. She told herself that pain now would save her misery later, so it was best to just get this done so they could both move on with their lives. “I mean,” she told him, “Garret told me exactly what you said about me. Not only do you think I’m after him for money, but that you consider me flaky and immature and-why are you laughing?”
He shook his head, grabbed up his jeans and tugged them on. “Because this is so stupid.”
“Oh, thanks very much.”
“I didn’t say you were stupid,” he muttered, then spoke up more loudly. “Why is arguing with women so frustrating? The flaky and immature thing? That’s not what I think of you. It’s what I think of Garret. He refuses to grow up and I’m starting to wonder if he’s even capable of it.”
Only slightly mollified, Anna said, “But you did think I was after your money.”
He didn’t deny it. What would be the point? They both knew the truth. After a second or two, he said, “Okay, yeah. I did. Why the hell else would a woman like you be dating Garret?”
“You really believe I could do something like that? Use someone? Barter myself?”
He scowled and folded his arms over the chest she’d been draped across only moments ago. “I don’t have to remind you that your father’s company is failing-or that I’ve got more than enough money to save it.”
“No,” she assured him haughtily, “you really don’t.”
“Stop being so damn insulted. You wouldn’t have been the first woman to use sex to get what you wanted.”
She fisted her hands at her hips. “And is that what I’m doing now? With you?”
He glared at her. “How the hell am I supposed to know? You tell me.”
Stung to the heart of her, Anna’s unshed tears nearly blinded her. She stepped into her shoes and lifted her chin to match him glare for glare. “If you really do think so little of me, then I was wrong about you from the beginning.”
He didn’t say a word, just stood there, watching her. With every pulse beat, another tiny piece of Anna’s heart broke away and shattered. Gathering up what dignity she had left, she said quietly, “I never want to see you again. You can mail me a check for my work.”
“Fine,” he answered quietly.
Before she left, she took one last jab. “When you’re in your office, I hope you look at the snake often and remember why it has your features.”
Eight
Christmas Day was just awful.
The Cameron family holiday breakfast was strained as Anna watched her father strive to remain cheerful despite the deepening worry lines at the corners of his eyes. Clarissa made a big show of a supposed “cold” that kept her constantly sniffing and wiping her eyes with her handkerchief.
And Anna missed Sam desperately.
She hadn’t spoken to him in days, which only told her that she’d made the right decision. Sam had no doubt realized that they were better off apart. Truth didn’t make the pain any easier to live with, though.
Yet, watching her father go through the motions on a holiday he loved was unsettling. She was worried enough about him that her own pain was taking a backseat.
After an exchange of presents, Anna joined her father in his study for a cup of coffee. Clarissa excused herself to take some cold medication.
“Dad,” Anna said, sitting beside him on the brown leather sofa, “is it really so bad?”
Her father frowned and Anna knew she was crossing into unexplored territory. Ordinarily, her dad preferred that she and Clarissa be happy and completely ignorant of his business dealings. But after a moment or two, he gave a resigned sigh.
Patting her hand, he admitted, “It’s not looking good right now, honey.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t want you worried about this, understand?” He gave her tight smile. “Things will work out as they’re supposed to. I’m sure the new year will bring plenty of opportunities.”
Her heart already aching from the loss of Sam, Anna felt another wrench. Her father had worked hard his entire life to build a company he was proud of. Was he really going to lose it? And if he did, what would it do to him?
“No sad faces,” he chided, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “We’ve got some Christmas cakes to eat, remember?”
Another family tradition. Decadent cupcakes covered in Christmassy icing were always eaten after breakfast in the Cameron house. She watched her father fight past his own disappointments and worries and knew she could do no less.
“Yes, we do, Dad. Want me to go get them from the kitchen?”
“Please. Take them into the living room by the tree.” He stood up, still smiling tightly. “I’ll just give Clarissa a hand finding her cold medication and we’ll join you.”
“Okay.” There was a knot in her throat but she wouldn’t let her father down. If he wanted to have a normal Christmas morning, then that’s exactly what they would do. As he started walking away, though, she said, “I love you, Dad.”
His smile was warm and real as he answered, “I love you, too, Anna. Now don’t worry, all right?”
She nodded, though her concerns were still there. But she wouldn’t contribute to her father’s worries, so she silently vowed to keep her anxiety well-hidden.
“Have you heard from him?” Tula asked later that night over a Christmas dinner of takeout tacos.
Because Tula had no family, the two of them always had Christmas dinner together-with only one rule. Nobody cooked. So every year, they looked around for any restaurant that happened to be open. This year, it was Garcia’s Familia. The food was terrific, but Anna wasn’t enjoying it anyway.
Hard to eat when it felt as though there was a ball of lead in the pit of your stomach.
“Sam?” Anna shook her head and took a sip of wine. She pushed the tines of her fork through the Mexican rice as if drawing a picture. “No. And it’s better that way. Really.”
“Yeah,” Tula told her. “I can see that. This is working out great for you.”
Sighing, Anna set her plate on the coffee table and sat back on her couch. Her gaze fixed blankly on the brightly lit Christmas tree, she wondered what Sam was doing. If he missed her as much as she missed him. And she wondered how he had become so important to her in such a short length of time.
“Anna, you’re miserable. Why don’t you call him?”
She glanced at her friend and ruefully shook her head. “What would be the point? Nothing’s changed. Even if it’s not a conscious notion, he still thinks I’m after him for his money.”
“That’s crazy,” Tula said with a snort of derision. Picking up her wine, she took a drink and said, “You had a fight. People always say things they don’t mean in a fight.”
“Or the truth comes out,” Anna suggested. She’d already had this same conversation with herself a dozen times. She’d thought about that last fight from every angle and each time she came to one conclusion. “Either way, it’s just over.”
The phone rang, but she didn’t move to pick it up. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone anyway. Her heart hurt, not just for what she’d lost in Sam, but for her father. And there was nothing she could do about either situation.
“You’re not going to get that?” Tula asked.
She shook her head. “Let the machine pick it up.”
Which it did a moment later. She listened to her outgoing message and then her heart jolted at the sound of Sam’s voice.
“Anna?” His deep voice sounded commanding. “If you’re there, pick up.”
Tula waved at her frantically, but Anna shook her head again. She had to curl her fingers into fists to keep from reaching for the stupid phone, but she did it. She couldn’t talk to him. Not now. Maybe not ever again. It was hard, but it would be even more difficult if she didn’t stay strong.