Annie discovered the next morning that falling for someone was an exhausting activity.
It made ordinary things irritating.
Like waking up.
Like brushing her teeth.
Like checking her phone every five minutes and pretending she wasn’t waiting for a particular person to send a message.
She lay across her bed, staring at the ceiling while her phone rested beside her pillow.
Nothing.
She turned onto her side.
Still nothing.
“This is ridiculous,” she muttered.
She picked up her phone, opened Brian’s conversation, and stared at their last messages.
Brian: Message me when you’re inside.
Annie: You’re literally watching me enter the house.
Brian: Still.
She had replied with a picture of herself standing dramatically in the hallway, accompanied by the words:
Annie: Alive. Unfortunately.
Brian had responded with a single thumbs-up.
A thumbs-up.
Annie sat up in bed, offended all over again.
“Who uses a thumbs-up after I make an excellent joke?”
Her phone vibrated.
She nearly dropped it.
Brian: Have you eaten?
Annie stared at the message.
Then she smiled before she could stop herself.
She immediately frowned at her own reaction.
Annie: Good morning to you too, Your Majesty.
Brian: Good morning. Have you eaten?
Annie: Why are you repeating yourself?
Brian: Because you haven’t answered.
Annie glanced at the clock.
7:42 a.m.
She had barely opened her eyes when he began interrogating her.
Annie: I’m considering breakfast.
Brian: That isn’t an answer.
Annie: It’s a philosophical position.
Brian: Eat something.
Annie typed a response, deleted it, then typed another.
Annie: You’re very bossy for someone who nearly fainted over a cracker yesterday.
The reply came almost immediately.
Brian: I didn’t faint.
Annie: Your stomach disagrees.
Brian: I’m eating breakfast now.
Annie: Proof.
A few seconds later, Brian sent a picture of a breakfast tray. Eggs, toast, fruit, and tea sat neatly arranged on a table.
Annie zoomed in.
“Is that all?”
She typed:
Annie: Where’s the rest?
Brian: This is enough.
Annie: You’re a grown man with the appetite of a sick bird.
Brian: I’m eating.
Annie: Add something else.
Brian: Annie.
Annie: Brian.
A pause followed.
Then another picture appeared. A bowl of oatmeal had been added to the tray.
Annie grinned.
Annie: Good boy.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Brian: You’re enjoying this too much.
Annie: I’m enjoying your improved survival chances.
She placed the phone against her chest and stared at the ceiling.
Her smile returned.
It was becoming a serious problem.
At breakfast, Eleanor noticed immediately.
Annie was smiling at her phone.
Not a sarcastic smile. Not the mischievous expression she wore before saying something troublesome.
A genuine smile.
Eleanor quietly placed a plate of pancakes in front of her.
“Who are you talking to?”
“No one.”
Emily, seated across from her, raised an eyebrow. “You smiled at your phone.”
“I smile at many things.”
“Name three.”
“Food. Money. My own reflection.”
Nicholas entered the dining room at that moment, adjusting his shirt cuffs. “You forgot Brian.”
Annie looked up sharply. “Why would I smile at Brian?”
“Because you’ve been staring at your phone like it contains the meaning of life.”
“It contains more useful information than your brain.”
Nicholas pulled out a chair. “You’re defensive.”
“I’m hungry.”
“You haven’t touched your pancakes.”
Annie immediately picked up her fork and cut into them.
Emily covered her smile with her teacup.
Eleanor said nothing, but the warmth in her eyes made Annie suspicious.
“What?” Annie asked.
“Nothing,” Eleanor replied.
“That’s a dangerous word in this family.”
Linda entered with a folder under one arm. She stopped briefly when she noticed everyone looking at Annie.
“What happened?”
“Annie is in love,” Nicholas announced.
Annie choked on her pancake.
Emily reached for her glass of water while Eleanor patted her back.
Linda’s expression remained blank. “That was quick.”
Annie finally swallowed. “I’m going to murder him.”
Nicholas pointed at himself. “See? She’s already threatening violence because she has feelings.”
“I threatened you before I met Brian.”
“That’s true,” Emily admitted.
“Thank you.”
Linda sat down and opened her folder. “Who is she in love with?”
Annie stared at her. “You too?”
“I’m asking for context.”
“Context is unnecessary.”
Nicholas leaned toward Linda. “The CEO.”
Linda’s eyes shifted toward Annie.
Annie pointed her fork at Nicholas. “If you say one more word, I’ll tell everyone about the time you cried because your mother confiscated your gaming console.”
Nicholas slowly sat back.
Emily looked interested. “He cried?”
“It was an emotional situation,” Nicholas said with dignity.
“You were sixteen,” Annie replied.
“I was experiencing personal hardship.”
The table erupted in laughter.
Even Linda’s mouth twitched.
Annie returned to her pancakes, but the teasing had left warmth in her chest. She had expected the Samson family to feel like a place she needed to earn her position in.
Instead, moments like this made her feel as though she had always belonged at the table.
That realization still frightened her sometimes.
But she was beginning to stop running from it.
By ten o’clock, Annie was at the university.
Professor Miller’s lecture focused on cardiac output and the factors that influenced blood pressure. Annie sat near the front with Jane beside her, taking notes while Jane attempted to keep her eyes open.
“Cardiac output,” Professor Miller said, writing on the board, “is determined by heart rate multiplied by stroke volume. Who can explain what happens to cardiac output during exercise?”
Several students avoided eye contact.
Professor Miller looked directly at Annie.
“Miss Samson?”
Annie lifted her head. “Cardiac output increases during exercise because both heart rate and stroke volume generally increase. The sympathetic nervous system increases heart rate and contractility, while venous return rises due to the muscle pump and respiratory pump.”
Professor Miller nodded. “And what happens to peripheral resistance?”
“It depends on the vascular beds involved. Resistance decreases in active skeletal muscles because of local metabolic vasodilation, while sympathetic vasoconstriction may occur in other tissues.”
“Excellent.”
Jane leaned toward her. “Do you ever get tired of being right?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“When people ask me stupid questions.”
Jane smiled. “So never?”
Annie closed her notebook. “Exactly.”
Professor Miller continued speaking, but Jane slipped a folded piece of paper onto Annie’s desk.
Annie opened it.
Did Brian text you this morning?
Annie glanced at her, unimpressed, then wrote:
Why are you obsessed with my suffering?
Jane snatched the paper back and scribbled another response.
You smiled at your phone before class.
Annie wrote:
I was reading something funny.
What did he say?
None of your business.
Then it was romantic.
Annie folded the paper and pushed it back.
Jane opened it, read the message, and grinned.
Annie knew that grin.
It meant trouble.
During lunch, Ethan Cole approached their table with his tray.
“Annie, can I sit here?”
Annie looked at the empty chair. “You’re already standing beside it.”
Ethan laughed and sat down. “I wanted to ask whether you could explain the cardiac output calculation from today’s lecture.”
Jane looked between them. “You mean you want her notes.”
“I want help.”
“Those are different things,” Annie said.
Ethan raised both hands. “I’m willing to negotiate.”
Annie leaned back. “Payment.”
“Again?”
“You came to me.”
“What do you want this time?”
“Lunch and dessert.”
“I already bought lunch.”
“Then you’re halfway there.”
Ethan sighed. “Fine. Dessert too.”
“Excellent. You may ask your question.”
Jane shook her head. “You’re turning education into organized extortion.”
“I’m encouraging academic investment.”
Ethan opened his notebook, and Annie began explaining the calculation. She was direct and patient, correcting his mistakes without making him feel foolish.
When he finally reached the correct answer, Ethan smiled.
“That actually makes sense now.”
“Of course it does.”
“Do you ever say anything humble?”
“I’m humble enough to let other people recognize my greatness.”
Jane burst out laughing.
Ethan shook his head, amused. “You and Brian must get along well.”
Annie’s pen stopped moving.
Jane noticed immediately.
“Oh?” she said. “Who is Brian?”
Annie slowly turned toward her. “You know exactly who Brian is.”
Ethan looked confused. “The CEO?”
Jane’s eyes widened with delight. “You know him too?”
“Everyone knows Brian Starks.”
Annie picked up her drink. “Unfortunately.”
Ethan hesitated before asking, “Are you two together?”
Annie nearly swallowed the wrong way.
Jane leaned forward, clearly enjoying herself.
“No,” Annie said.
The answer came too quickly.
Jane’s grin widened.
Ethan nodded. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You didn’t.”
Annie returned to her food, but she could feel Jane’s gaze burning into the side of her face.
After Ethan left, Jane placed her elbows on the table.
“You answered very quickly.”
“Because the question was simple.”
“Are you together?”
“No.”
“Do you want to be?”
Annie pointed her fork at her. “Eat your food.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s an instruction.”
Jane laughed. “You like him.”
Annie looked down at her plate.
She could have denied it.
She had denied it many times.
But the words suddenly felt less convincing than they used to.
“I’m getting used to him,” she said.
Jane’s expression softened. “That’s not the same thing.”
“I know.”
“Are you scared?”
Annie’s fingers tightened slightly around her fork.
The question was too accurate.
She looked toward the busy cafeteria, at the students talking, laughing, and moving between tables.
“I don’t know what happens when someone becomes important,” she admitted. “I spent most of my life knowing exactly where I stood. With Auntie Mei, I knew who I was. I knew what my life looked like.”
“And now?”
“Now I have a family I’m still learning to understand. A man who keeps showing up in ways I don’t expect. And everyone seems to think I should know what to do with all of it.”
Jane reached across the table and nudged her hand.
“You don’t have to know yet.”
Annie looked at her.
Jane smiled. “You can take your time. Even with someone handsome and irritating.”
Annie’s mouth curved. “He is extremely irritating.”
“Of course.”
“And arrogant.”
“Obviously.”
“And he has a terrible habit of forgetting to eat.”
“Then perhaps you should keep him.”
Annie looked away, but this time she didn’t argue.
That afternoon, Brian sat in a conference room surrounded by senior executives.
A presentation was displayed on the screen. Numbers, projections, and proposed acquisitions filled the slides.
He listened without interruption while one of the directors explained the company’s expansion plans.
When the presentation ended, Brian closed the folder in front of him.
“The projected return is inflated.”
The director stiffened. “Sir, the figures were reviewed by our financial team.”
“Then your financial team overlooked the regional risk.”
Brian tapped a line on the document. “The supplier’s production capacity is dependent on one facility. If it shuts down, the entire agreement becomes unstable.”
“We can insure against that.”
“Insurance doesn’t replace lost time.”
The room fell silent.
Brian looked toward his assistant. “Request an independent audit. No approval until the supply chain has been reassessed.”
“Yes, sir.”
His phone vibrated.
He glanced down.
A message from Annie.
Annie: Did you eat lunch?
Brian looked at the time.
2:17 p.m.
He hadn’t.
Jason, seated near the window, noticed the change in his expression.
“Is that her?”
Brian ignored him and typed a reply.
Brian: I’m about to.
The response arrived immediately.
Annie: That means no.
Brian: The meeting ran long.
Annie: That sounds like an excuse.
Brian: I’ll eat now.
Annie: Send proof.
Jason leaned back in his chair. “You know, for a man who terrifies entire boardrooms, you seem remarkably obedient to one medical student.”
Brian looked up. “Do you have a point?”
“Several. Most of them entertaining.”
“Keep them to yourself.”
“Did she ask whether you ate?”
Brian didn’t answer.
Jason smiled. “She did.”
Aaron, who had been reviewing the documents, looked up. “You’re allowing her to monitor your meals?”
“She doesn’t monitor anything.”
Jason laughed. “You just sent her a picture of your lunch, didn’t you?”
Brian’s expression became colder.
Jason held up his hands. “I’m only saying that I’ve never seen you voluntarily provide evidence of anything.”
Brian stood. “We’re taking a break.”
Jason glanced at the untouched coffee beside him. “Good. Eat something.”
Brian stopped.
Jason’s tone lost its teasing edge. “I mean it, Brian. Don’t turn her concern into another reason to ignore your own health.”
For a moment, Brian said nothing.
Then he nodded once.
“I know.”
He left the room.
Jason watched him go, his smile fading into something more thoughtful.
Brian had always been difficult to reach.
Now, somehow, Annie had managed to get closer than anyone else.
And Brian was letting her.
That evening, Annie returned home to find William waiting in the sitting room.
He gestured toward the chair beside him. “Come sit for a moment.”
Annie glanced at the clock. “If this is about the family lunch, I haven’t committed any crimes today.”
William smiled faintly. “I’m glad to hear it.”
She sat down.
“The formal lunch will be held Wednesday,” he said. “Several of our business partners will be attending. It’s not an obligation, Annie. I want you to understand that.”
“Then why invite me?”
“Because you’re my daughter.”
The words were simple, but Annie felt them settle heavily.
William continued, “The people there will want to meet you. Some will be curious. Some may say things they shouldn’t. If you don’t want to attend, I’ll make sure no one pressures you.”
Annie studied him. “And if I do attend?”
“Then you’ll be introduced properly, and you’ll leave whenever you want.”
“Will Brian be there?”
William’s eyebrows rose slightly.
Annie immediately frowned. “I’m asking because he’s involved in business. Not because I’m waiting for him to rescue me.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking.”
William’s smile widened. “Brian will be attending.”
Annie looked down at her hands.
The thought of walking into a room full of wealthy businesspeople no longer frightened her as much as it once might have. She had survived eighteen years without knowing she was a Samson. She had survived returning to a family that felt both familiar and foreign.
She could handle a lunch.
But the thought of Brian being there made her feel strangely steadier.
That was dangerous.
“I’ll go,” she said.
William’s expression softened. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. But I’m leaving if anyone bores me.”
“I’ll warn them.”
“And if someone insults Auntie Mei, I’m throwing a glass.”
William paused. “Please try not to throw anything.”
“No promises.”
He laughed quietly.
Annie stood, but before she could leave, William spoke again.
“Annie.”
She turned.
“I’m proud of you.”
The words caught her off guard.
William didn’t seem to know what to do with the emotion on his daughter’s face, so he looked away.
Annie swallowed.
“Don’t say things like that without warning,” she murmured.
“I’ll try to give you notice next time.”
She nodded, then walked away before he could see how deeply the words had affected her.
Later that night, Annie stood in front of her wardrobe.
Wednesday’s lunch was still two days away, but she was already considering what to wear.
She pulled out a cream blouse.
Too formal.
A black dress.
Too severe.
A green skirt.
Too cheerful.
She frowned at the clothes scattered across her bed.
“This is ridiculous.”
Her phone rang.
Brian.
Annie stared at the screen for a moment before answering.
“Why are you calling?”
“Good evening to you too.”
“Good evening. Why are you calling?”
“I wanted to hear your voice.”
Annie went completely still.
Brian seemed to realize what he had said, because he paused.
Then he added, “And I wanted to ask whether you received the details for Wednesday.”
Annie narrowed her eyes, even though he couldn’t see her. “You ruined a perfectly good sentence.”
“What sentence?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you choosing an outfit?”
She looked down at the clothes on her bed. “How did you know?”
“You’re quiet.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“I know you.”
The words made her chest tighten.
Brian continued, “My mother sent a message. She said she hopes you’ll sit beside her during lunch.”
“She’s trying to recruit me.”
“She likes you.”
“Everyone in your family likes me.”
“Is that a problem?”
Annie sat on the edge of her bed.
“No,” she admitted. “It’s just strange.”
“What is?”
“Being welcomed.”
Brian didn’t respond immediately.
When he did, his voice was softer. “You deserve to be.”
Annie lowered her gaze.
She wished he would stop saying things that made it difficult to hide behind jokes.
“Are you going to be busy Wednesday?” she asked.
“I’ll be there.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“I’ll make time.”
“Brian, I don’t need you to rearrange your entire life because I’m attending lunch.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t.”
“I’m not rearranging my life.”
“Then what are you doing?”
A pause.
“Making sure I’m where I want to be.”
Annie’s breath caught.
She looked toward the window, where the city lights flickered in the distance.
“Your flirting is becoming excessive,” she said quietly.
“Is it working?”
“Not remotely.”
“Good.”
She laughed under her breath.
Brian’s voice lowered. “Annie?”
“Hmm?”
“Wear whatever you want on Wednesday.”
“I was planning to wear a paper bag.”
“I’m sure you’d make it look expensive.”
She smiled.
Then, after a moment, she asked, “Did you take your medication?”
“Yes.”
“Properly?”
“Yes.”
“Did you eat dinner?”
“Yes.”
“Did you finish it?”
“Yes.”
“Are you lying?”
“No.”
Annie leaned back on her hands. “You’re getting better.”
“I’ve had a strict teacher.”
“Your teacher is brilliant.”
“She’s also demanding.”
“She has standards.”
Brian chuckled softly.
The sound made Annie close her eyes.
She could picture him sitting in his office, tie loosened, phone pressed to his ear, looking less like the feared CEO and more like the man who had held her hand outside her family home.
“Brian?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For today. For yesterday. For…” She stopped, searching for the right words. “For making things feel less difficult.”
His silence was long enough for her to wonder whether she had said too much.
Then he replied, “You make things less difficult for me too.”
Annie’s eyes opened.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“That’s impossible. I make your life extremely difficult.”
“You do.”
“Then how—”
“I like it.”
The room seemed to grow quieter.
Annie looked down at her fingers.
For once, she had no clever response ready.
Brian didn’t demand one.
He simply stayed on the line.
And somehow, that was enough.
After they ended the call, Annie lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling again.
Her phone vibrated once more.
A message from Brian.
Brian: Sleep early. You have class tomorrow.
Annie typed:
Annie: You’re not my father.
Brian: I know.
Annie: Good.
A moment later, another message appeared.
Brian: Good night, Annie.
She stared at the words for several seconds before replying.
Annie: Good night, Brian.
Then she held the phone against her chest.
Wednesday’s lunch was approaching.
Her family would be watching.
Business partners would be judging.
And Brian would be there.
Annie had no idea what the day would bring.
But for the first time, she found herself looking forward to it—not because of the lunch, the wealth, or the people she would meet.
Because he would be sitting somewhere in that room.
And she wanted to know whether he would look for her first.