want, so she hovered in the kitchen ready to make an omelet or oatmeal. She wondered if Sinclair would come down first and they would have their talk before the others awoke.
To her dismay, Vicki was the first down the stairs, yawning, her sleek black hair knotted into a casual but elegant twist and her taut body showcased in skimpy capris and a cutoff T-shirt. “Morning, Annie. Is this where you ask me if I want breakfast?”
“You’re way ahead of me. What can I get you?” Annoying guests weren’t unusual. She managed a cheerful smile.
“Do you have any grapefruit?”
“I made a fruit salad of cantaloupe, grapes, honeydew and pineapple, but no grapefruit, I’m afraid. Would you like me to get you some?” Probably she was on some crackpot diet eating twenty-seven grapefruits a day and nothing else. She had that kind of body.
“God, no. Your fruit salad sounds fab. I’d kill for some scrambled eggs and bacon to go with it, if that’s a possibility. Any sign of Sinclair?”
Annie blinked. “Not so far.”
“Probably snuck out early to avoid us.” Vicki shot her a conspiratorial smile. “Not much of a people person, is he?”
Annie glanced up the stairs. Had Sinclair really left the house already? He did sometimes slip away right at dawn. She wasn’t sure where he went but he often came back wet, so possibly the beach. He didn’t do that when guests were staying, though.
She didn’t answer Vicki’s question. He seemed very good with people from what she could see. He wouldn’t have a successful investment company if he wasn’t a people person. “Do you like your bacon well-done?”
“That would be perfect.” Vicki wandered into the dining room and picked up the New York Times.
Annie headed for the kitchen. People like Vicki gave orders effortlessly. She’d been brought up that way. It was her own job to make sure those orders were carried out without a moment’s hesitation, even if she had to run out and wrestle down a pig to make the bacon.
Happily she was well prepared and kept the freshest local bacon on hand. Three rashers were sizzling on the stove and the eggs bubbling in a pan when the kitchen door swung open. Annie nearly jumped out of her skin, expecting to see Sinclair’s imposing form and stern gaze.
A smile settled across Vicki’s shapely mouth. “Goodness, you are jumpy. Expecting someone else?”
“No.” Annie answered too fast. She whisked the bacon and eggs onto a plate, hoping her red face would be attributed to the heat from the stove.
Vicki lounged in the doorway, watching her. “Sinclair is a dark horse.”
Annie burned to disagree, or at least ask why she would say such a thing, but her gut told her that would be playing into some plan of Vicki’s. “Will you take it in the dining room?”
“I’ll take it from you right here.” She thrust out her hands and took the fork and knife from Annie. “And thank you very much for making this. It looks yummy.” She flashed another oh-so-charming smile.
Annie let out a hard breath when the door closed behind Vicki. What did she mean by that comment? Did she suspect something between herself and Sinclair? Sweat had broken out on her forehead and she pushed a few strands of hair off it. Surely she hadn’t given anything away?
Katherine came down around 10:00 a.m. and ate a few bites of her custom-made muesli. “Has my son already abandoned us?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him all morning.” Annie refilled her juice. How had Sinclair managed to slip away? She’d been up since before first light. He must be very determined to avoid her. That didn’t bode well for their planned talk.
“I’m dying to head up to the attic, though I have to take it slow. The doctor says I’m not allowed to stand up for more than thirty minutes at a time.” She shook her head, and her elegant blond bob swung. “I don’t know how you’re supposed to do anything when you have to sit down every thirty minutes, but he is the top man in his field and I promised Sinclair I’d follow his instructions slavishly.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Weak.” She laughed a little. “I poop out easily. I’m supposed to eat all kinds of super foods to boost my energy but I don’t have any appetite, either. I might try acupuncture. A friend of mine swears by it.”
Annie ventured into the conversation. “My sister tried it to give up smoking and it didn’t work. I blame my sister, though, not the acupuncturist. I think she was more determined to prove him wrong than she was to quit.”
Katherine’s warm smile lit up the room. “I’m determined to get well. I have far too much to live for. I haven’t even met my first grandchild yet.”
Juice sloshed in the jug as Annie’s hand jerked. Sinclair was Katherine Drummond’s only child so obviously her fondest dreams lay in his next marriage. A prospect that made Annie’s muscles limp with dismay. “That is something to look forward to.”
“What about you, Annie? Is there anyone in your life?” A blond brow lifted.
Annie froze. Did she also suspect something between her and Sinclair?
“You seem to live here so quietly and I worry that we’ve cut you off from civilization. Maybe you should try one of those online dating services.”
Annie’s heart sank a little when she realized it hadn’t even crossed Katherine’s mind that she and Sinclair might be involved. “I’m quite happy. One day my prince will come.” She smiled and hoped it looked convincing.
“These days it doesn’t pay to wait around for princes to show up. Better to go out and find one yourself before all the good ones get snatched up.”
Sinclair’s been snatched up twice, but he’s still available. She did not voice her thoughts. And really, was a man who’d been divorced twice such a good prospect? She suppressed a sigh. “I don’t have time for dating. I’m planning to take an evening course at the local college.”
“Really?” Katherine’s eyes widened.
Annie regretted her words. The plan was still half-formed in her mind and now her employer would probably worry about her slacking off in her duties. Why had she said it? Was she so afraid of seeming like a pathetic spinster who’d be polishing silver for the rest of her life?
“Nothing very demanding. I was thinking of learning a little about business.” She shrugged her shoulders apologetically. Probably better not to tell Katherine about her dream of opening a shop one day.
“I think that’s wonderful, Annie. If there’s anything at all I can do to help, a reference to get you into the program, or something like that. I’m sure Sinclair will be thrilled.”
She doubted Sinclair would feel such strong emotion on the topic. Though he might be happy to hear she was trying to broaden her employment prospects. He’d hardly want her hanging around in his house for years after they’d had that … accident.
That’s what it felt like. A sudden car wreck. Or maybe just a fender bender. Either way it had left her bruised and dented and unsure of her previously planned route.
“Thanks, can I get you some more toast?”
“No, thanks. I’d like to head up to the attic, if you’re ready.”
They spent the day rifling through the boxes and crates of old possessions. The space grew hotter as the day went on. Vicki was surprisingly quiet, examining objects with a studious eye, as if making mental notes about them. They found several pieces of eighteenth-century scrimshaw and a carefully packed box with two old Chinese vases, but most of the stuff was obviously worthless—boxes of celluloid shirt collars and scrofulous-looking moleskin hats. By late afternoon they were winding down their search. “I think it’s time for a glass of iced tea,” Katherine said, getting