paced the floor of her bedroom. Buoyed by Frankie’s positive reaction to her plans for Fairy Godmother, she was finally ready to tell her father about the purchase.
Unlike her former fiancé, Mason, neither she nor her older brother, Xander, worked for Currin Oil. Xander worked the land and cared for the animals on Currin Ranch. Under her brother’s guidance, the ranch had become increasingly profitable. She’d stumbled into a career as a vlogger while she was in college.
Despite her father’s wish that she, her brother and sister work for Currin Oil, he’d come to respect Xander’s career choice. But her family still didn’t consider what she did to be a viable career.
Why couldn’t they respect that she, too, had chosen the path that was right for her?
There was a knock at her door. Her father. She’d told him she needed to speak to him.
“Hey, Dad.” Annabel opened her bedroom door and waved him in, a bright smile on her face.
He forced a smile, but looked sullen.
“Is everything okay, Dad?” She joined him in the little seating alcove near the window.
Her father sighed heavily, then brought her up to speed on the accusation Sterling Perry had made that he was the biological father of the man’s youngest child. A son.
“Roarke Perry,” she repeated the name. It seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place him.
“I wanted you to hear about it from me and to assure you it isn’t true. We even took a paternity test.” He extended an envelope to her.
“I don’t need that.” She moved to sit beside him on the sofa. “If you say it isn’t true, I believe you. Period.”
He draped an arm over her shoulder and planted a kiss on her head. “It means a lot that you’re willing to take me at my word, no questions asked.”
“I assume that means Angela didn’t.”
He sighed, but didn’t answer.
“I know that must’ve crushed your ego a bit, but from her perspective... God, the mere possibility of it being true must’ve been terrifying. Especially when she’s got the devil himself in her ear over there,” she added under her breath.
“You’ve got a point there.” Her father chuckled. “But I don’t see that crotchety old bastard dropping dead anytime soon. So his influence will be an ongoing problem. One I’m not sure I want to deal with.”
“Then I guess you have to decide if being with Angela is worth it.” She glanced up at him.
“Who’s the parent here?” he teased. “I’m supposed to be the one dishing out the sage advice.”
“Actually, there are some things I need to tell you.”
“What is it, sweetheart?” He tensed.
Annabel turned toward her father and took a deep breath. “The wedding is off.”
“But the wedding is just a few weeks away.” His eyes widened and lines spanned his forehead. “Did you suddenly get cold feet?”
“I didn’t.” She stood, pacing the floor. “Mason did.”
Anger flared in her father’s eyes. “Why would he call off the wedding at this late hour?”
Annabel sat in the chair facing her father and folded her legs, yoga-style. “You know that vote of confidence? I could really use one of those right now, Dad.”
Her father sucked in a deep breath, as if preparing himself for impact. He nodded. “All right, Annabel. Let’s hear it.”
“I purchased some property.”
“You bought a house?”
“No. I purchased commercial property for Fairy Godmother. An old salon and the building next door to it. The salon is the perfect space to do the makeovers, and the space next door will house a high-end vintage consignment shop.”
“Annabel, you didn’t—”
“I know you don’t see it as a viable business, Dad. And maybe you’re right. But I believe in this idea, and I’m going to try it.”
“You’re as stubborn as your mother.” He smiled faintly and raked his fingers through his hair. “Especially when she believed she was right.”
“Exactly.” Annabel relaxed a little. “This venture is very important to me. I get to touch people’s lives in truly amazing ways, and it makes me happy.”
“I take it that Mason doesn’t see things that way.”
“No.” Annabel shook her head. “And he’s not willing to compromise. Guess he didn’t get the memo. That’s what marriage is all about.”
“I’ll have a little talk with Mason.” Her father stood, his features tense.
“I appreciate the offer, Dad. But please don’t. It’s over.” She shrugged. “I’ll admit, I was hurt at first, but I’ve had some time to think about it. Mason and I want very different things from a relationship. This is what’s best for me. I’ll be fine.”
“All right, pumpkin.” His forced smile made it obvious he was unconvinced that she didn’t need him. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “But if you need me for any reason, you know I’m here.”
“I know. Thanks, Dad.” Annabel sank back onto her chair and watched her father leave.
Annabel worried her lower lip with her teeth as she twisted the large engagement ring on her slim finger. Her relationship with Mason had ended so abruptly, she’d barely had time to allow her new reality to register.
She was no longer getting married. A fact that she was surprisingly calm about. Perhaps even relieved.
Annabel slid the ring from her finger and put it in her jewelry chest. She’d return it to Mason. She had no doubt the jeweler would take it back.
But what about her?
The floor-length champagne-colored designer bridal gown with countless glittering crystals embedded in the organza overlay of the gown had cost nearly fifty thousand dollars. There was the expensive custom wedding band she’d purchased for Mason and all of the money for the reception hall.
Her father had sunk a small fortune into this wedding. And Mason had called the wedding off on a whim in what was essentially a tantrum.
Annabel felt better by the minute about not marrying Mason. But there was no way he was going to just call off the wedding and then walk away scot-free, leaving her family to foot the astronomical bill.
Not if she had anything to say about it.
She plopped on her chair again, turned on the television and scanned the channels. A commercial for Farrah’s came on. Annabel smiled thinking of the rich, creamy lemon icebox pie that was her favorite. And of the handsome stranger she’d encountered there earlier that day.
Annabel shrugged off the memory of the man’s sexy smile and the penetrating gaze he’d leveled at her, his eyes an intriguing shade of blue.
She was ending one misguided relationship and starting a new brick-and-mortar business on top of the vlog. Another entanglement was the last thing in the world she needed.
But there was no harm in daydreaming about it.
Roarke stood by the bar, sipping scotch and soda as he scanned the historic Crystal Ballroom located in the Rice Hotel in downtown Houston. The venue dated back to 1913 and had soaring thirty-five-foot ceilings, beautiful mahogany French doors and an elegant lobby with gorgeous crystal chandeliers. They’d been there less than an