By the time Annie returned to the garden, Jude had apparently decided that his greatest talent was embarrassing his family.
“And then,” he announced dramatically, “Brian actually apologized.”
Sophie gasped. “Brian apologized?”
Aaron lowered his book. “To whom?”
“To a waiter.”
Annie stopped beside the table. “What did he do?”
Jude pointed toward the house. “He apparently frightened the poor man by looking at him.”
“That sounds like a normal day for Brian,” Annie said.
Brian, who had just stepped onto the terrace, gave her a cold look.
Annie smiled sweetly. “Don’t mind me. Continue your story.”
“There is no story,” Brian said.
“Then why does Jude look so pleased with himself?”
“Because he enjoys lying.”
“An inherited family trait?” Annie asked.
Sophie burst into laughter.
Brian descended the steps and took the empty chair opposite Annie. He still held the packet of crackers she had given him, though it was now open.
Annie noticed immediately.
“You ate them?”
Brian glanced at the packet. “You told me to.”
“Good. Perhaps there’s hope for you.”
“I’m touched by your confidence.”
“Don’t be. It’s temporary.”
Margaret appeared with a tray of drinks, and the conversation shifted toward the charity event she was organizing. She explained that several influential families would attend, including business partners and friends of the Starks.
Annie listened while sipping her juice.
“Will you come with us?” Sophie asked her.
“To the charity event?”
“Of course.”
Annie glanced at Margaret. “Wouldn’t I be in the way?”
Margaret’s expression softened. “You are family now, darling. You would never be in the way.”
The words were gentle, but they still made Annie uncomfortable.
Family.
She had spent eighteen years knowing that she belonged to one small home in the countryside. Now she had two families, two houses, and people who spoke as though she had always had a place among them.
She looked down at her glass.
Margaret noticed but did not push.
Brian did.
His gaze remained on Annie for several seconds before he spoke.
“You don’t have to attend if you don’t want to.”
Annie looked up. “I know.”
“Then why do you look as though someone has sentenced you?”
“Because your mother just called me family, and now everyone expects me to start behaving like a civilized person.”
Jude leaned forward. “You could never.”
“Thank you for your support.”
“You’re welcome.”
Margaret smiled. “There is no pressure, Annie. Come only if you feel comfortable.”
Annie nodded. “Then I’ll consider it.”
Brian did not say anything else, but she noticed the way his shoulders relaxed.
He had been watching her reaction—not judging it, but making sure she did not feel trapped.
That realization stayed with her.
Later, while Sophie went inside to answer a call, Annie found herself alone with Brian near the garden fountain.
The afternoon breeze moved through the trees, carrying the faint scent of flowers. Somewhere behind them, Jude and Aaron were arguing about the board game again.
Annie leaned against the stone railing. “Your family is loud.”
“You fit in.”
“I’m beginning to think that was an insult.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Then you need to work on your delivery.”
Brian stood beside her, his hands in his pockets. “Did you enjoy today?”
Annie looked across the garden. “Your sister showed me enough clothes to open a store. Your brother cheated at a game he was already losing. Your mother fed me twice.”
“Only twice?”
“I was distracted.”
“By what?”
She turned her head toward him. “Are you trying to make conversation?”
“Yes.”
“You’re terrible at it.”
“I’m improving.”
Annie smiled, but it faded when she noticed him pressing his lips together.
“Your stomach again?”
Brian looked at her. “A little.”
“And you’re standing here instead of resting.”
“I’m fine.”
She straightened. “If you say that one more time, I’m going to start charging you for every lie.”
“How much?”
“Ten dollars.”
“Cheap.”
“I’m feeling generous.”
Brian almost smiled. Then his phone rang.
The change in his expression was immediate. The warmth disappeared, replaced by the cold, controlled CEO everyone else knew.
He answered the call.
“What happened?”
Annie remained quiet as he listened. His voice grew sharper with each response.
“Send the revised documents to my office. No one signs anything until I review it.”
A pause.
“Then replace him.”
He ended the call.
Annie raised an eyebrow. “You replace people very easily.”
“People who make expensive mistakes.”
“Everyone makes mistakes.”
“Not everyone is paid to avoid them.”
She studied him. “Do you ever give people a second chance?”
“When they deserve one.”
“And who decides that?”
“I do.”
“Convenient.”
Brian looked at her. “You disagree?”
“I think you enjoy being the person who makes every decision.”
“I have to.”
“No. You choose to.”
The words hung between them.
Brian’s expression hardened slightly, but Annie did not retreat. She had never been good at pretending not to notice things.
“You don’t trust people,” she continued.
“That isn’t true.”
“You trust contracts, reports, and locked doors.”
“And you trust everyone?”
“No. I trust myself.”
“Then we have something in common.”
Annie looked at him, surprised by the answer.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Brian asked, “Why did you leave the countryside?”
She frowned. “I didn’t leave. I was brought here.”
“You could have refused.”
Annie’s fingers tightened around the railing. “Auntie Mei wanted me to know where I came from.”
“Do you regret coming?”
The question was quiet.
Annie looked toward the large house, where Eleanor had once waited for her with tears in her eyes. She thought of William’s awkward attempts to become a father, Emily’s patience, Linda’s guarded warnings, and Margaret’s warm embrace.
Then she thought of Auntie Mei’s little home, the familiar kitchen, and the old wooden chair near the window.
“I miss my old life,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I regret coming.”
Brian watched her carefully.
“Do you miss it enough to leave?”
Annie turned toward him. “Are you worried I’ll disappear?”
His expression did not change, but his silence answered too quickly.
Annie smiled slowly. “You are worried.”
“I asked a question.”
“You’re avoiding the answer.”
“Perhaps.”
The honesty caught her off guard.
Brian looked away toward the fountain. “You should visit Auntie Mei whenever you want.”
“I plan to.”
“I can take you.”
Annie shook her head. “I can go myself.”
“I know.”
“Then why offer?”
“Because I want to.”
She stared at him.
Brian turned toward her. “You don’t have to accept everything I offer, Annie. But you don’t have to refuse everything either.”
The words reached deeper than he probably intended.
Annie had spent so long protecting her independence that accepting kindness sometimes felt like surrender. Brian seemed to understand that without her having to explain it.
She looked down, hiding the softness in her expression.
“You’re becoming dangerously reasonable.”
“I’ll try to stop.”
“Please do.”
Sophie suddenly appeared from behind them. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere.”
Annie stepped away from Brian. “You were on the phone for three minutes.”
“Three very important minutes.”
“Did you solve world peace?”
“No, but I ordered shoes.”
“Equally important.”
Sophie turned to Brian. “Mother wants us to stay for dinner.”
Brian looked at Annie. “Will you stay?”
Annie opened her mouth, prepared to make a joke.
Instead, she glanced toward the house and then back at him.
“Is the food good?”
Jude shouted from the lawn, “It’s excellent!”
Annie pointed toward him. “Then I’ll stay.”
Brian’s eyes warmed with unmistakable amusement.
As they walked toward the house, Annie found herself beside him. Their hands brushed once, then again.
This time, neither moved away immediately.
Brian looked down at her hand.
Annie noticed and quickly slipped both hands into her pockets.
“Don’t get ideas,” she warned.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking loudly.”
“I’ll be more careful.”
She looked up at him. “You’d better be.”
But she was smiling when she said it.
And Brian, who had spent years believing that control was the safest way to live, realized he was beginning to look forward to the moments when Annie took it away from him.