By the time Annie left her final lecture, she had received three messages from Brian.
The first asked whether she had eaten lunch.
The second reminded her not to replace lunch with coffee.
The third simply read:
Brian: I’ll pick you up at six.
Annie stared at the last message as she walked across the university courtyard.
There was no question mark. No explanation. No room for argument.
Naturally, she replied.
Annie: Did I agree to that?
Brian: You agreed to dinner.
Annie: I could have meant dinner with someone else.
Brian: You told me I owed you dessert.
Annie: Perhaps I planned to collect it from your assistant.
Brian: You’re welcome to try.
Annie smiled despite herself.
“Disgusting,” she muttered.
Jane, walking beside her, looked over. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’ve been smiling at your phone for ten minutes.”
“I’m reading something educational.”
“Does the educational material call you beautiful?”
Annie immediately stopped walking.
Jane’s eyebrows rose. “It does?”
Annie shoved her phone into her bag. “You’re too curious for your own safety.”
“Annie, you’re blushing.”
“I’m hot.”
“It’s windy.”
“I’m naturally warm.”
Jane laughed. “You’re hopeless.”
Annie resumed walking, but her smile refused to disappear.
She had spent years protecting her independence. She had learned how to survive without expecting anyone to stay, how to laugh at disappointment before it could hurt, and how to make herself feel complete even when the world offered her very little.
Brian was not taking that away from her.
That was what frightened her.
He wasn’t demanding that she become someone else.
He was simply making room for himself.
And she was letting him.
At five-thirty, Annie returned to the Samson residence and found Eleanor waiting in the sitting room.
Her mother looked up from a book. “You’re home early.”
“I’m preparing for an important business transaction.”
Eleanor smiled. “Dinner with Brian?”
“Dessert with Brian. Dinner is merely an unfortunate event between the two.”
Nicholas, sprawled across the opposite sofa, lifted his head. “Did he finally propose?”
Annie threw a cushion at him.
He caught it with a laugh.
Eleanor’s gaze moved over Annie’s outfit—a soft cream blouse tucked into dark trousers, with a long brown coat draped over one arm.
“You look lovely.”
“I know.”
Nicholas placed a hand over his heart. “Her humility is inspiring.”
Annie ignored him and turned toward Eleanor. “Does this look like I’m trying too hard?”
Eleanor’s smile became tender.
“No. It looks like you chose something you like.”
Annie glanced down at herself.
That answer pleased her more than she expected.
“I did,” she said.
Eleanor stood and approached her. “Then that’s enough.”
For a moment, Annie remained quiet.
Then she asked, “Mother?”
“Yes?”
“Did you ever worry that liking someone would make you lose yourself?”
Eleanor didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, she reached out and adjusted the collar of Annie’s blouse.
“Loving someone should not require you to disappear,” she said. “The right person will want to know who you are, not replace you with someone easier to love.”
Annie lowered her gaze.
“Brian is not easy,” she murmured.
Eleanor chuckled. “Neither are you.”
“That’s why we’re a terrible combination.”
“Or an honest one.”
Before Annie could respond, a car horn sounded outside.
Nicholas looked toward the window. “Your terrible combination has arrived.”
Annie grabbed her coat.
At the doorway, Eleanor caught her hand.
“Enjoy your evening.”
Annie looked back.
“I will.”
And she meant it.
Brian was standing beside his car when Annie stepped outside.
He wore a charcoal suit without a tie, his dark hair neatly styled, and his expression calm enough to irritate her.
His gaze moved over her, lingering for only a moment before returning to her face.
“You look beautiful.”
Annie stopped in front of him.
“You’ve already used that line.”
“It remains true.”
“That sounds suspiciously like preparation.”
“I didn’t prepare.”
“Then you’re naturally troublesome.”
Brian opened the passenger door for her.
Annie studied him. “You’re being unusually polite.”
“I can stop.”
“Don’t you dare.”
A small smile touched his mouth.
She climbed into the car, and Brian closed the door behind her.
Once he was seated, Annie glanced at the dashboard.
“Did you eat?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Chicken, rice, vegetables.”
“Medication?”
“Yes.”
“Pain?”
Brian’s fingers paused briefly on the steering wheel.
“A little.”
Annie turned toward him immediately. “A little?”
“It passed.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I’m fine.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You know, one day I’m going to attach a tracking device to your stomach.”
Brian started the car. “Would you like me to arrange it?”
“That wasn’t permission.”
“I know.”
The quiet amusement in his voice made it impossible for her to remain angry.
She leaned back in her seat. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”
“Because of the dessert?”
“Because I’m generous.”
“I thought you charged for generosity.”
“I do. You owe me.”
Brian glanced at her.
“For what?”
Annie folded her arms. “You know what.”
His expression softened.
“The kiss?”
She looked out of the window. “Don’t say it so casually.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re making me remember it.”
“I remember it too.”
Annie turned back toward him.
For a few seconds, neither spoke.
Then Brian added, quietly, “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”
Her heart gave an embarrassing little jump.
She quickly looked away. “You’re driving. Concentrate.”
“I am.”
“You’re not supposed to think about kissing while driving.”
“I’m thinking about it while stopped at a red light.”
“That is not much better.”
“It’s safer.”
Annie pressed her lips together, fighting a smile.
She was losing.
The restaurant Brian chose was smaller than their previous locations, tucked into a quiet street away from the city’s busiest hotels. Warm lights glowed behind wide windows, and the atmosphere was elegant without being intimidating.
Annie looked through the window.
“No photographers?”
“No.”
“No business associates pretending to accidentally meet you?”
“Not that I know of.”
“No woman waiting to remind me how complicated your life is?”
Brian looked at her.
“Are you referring to Victoria?”
“Who else?”
“Victoria isn’t here.”
“Good. I don’t have the energy to dislike anyone tonight.”
Brian held the door open for her.
“Would you like to reserve that energy for me?”
Annie walked past him. “You already have too much of it.”
Their table was near the window. A server brought them menus, but Annie barely opened hers before looking at Brian.
“Dessert first.”
The server hesitated.
Brian didn’t.
“Bring the chocolate soufflé, the strawberry tart, and the vanilla ice cream.”
Annie slowly turned toward him.
“You remembered.”
“You said you wanted dessert.”
“I said you owed me dessert.”
“I remember the distinction.”
She stared at him, then pointed toward the menu. “Add the chocolate mousse.”
Brian nodded at the server. “And the chocolate mousse.”
The server left.
Annie rested her chin on her hand. “You’re dangerously obedient tonight.”
“I’m choosing my battles.”
“Smart man.”
Brian’s eyes remained on her. “You said I made you think about the kiss all morning.”
Annie’s hand slipped from beneath her chin.
“I was being dramatic.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Maybe I was slightly dramatic.”
“You weren’t.”
She reached for her water. “You’re very confident for someone who used to have the personality of a locked door.”
Brian leaned back. “And now?”
“Now you’re a locked door with occasional sunlight.”
A quiet laugh escaped him.
Annie stared.
There it was again—that rare, unguarded sound that always made her feel as though she had been given something private.
Her teasing expression faded.
Brian noticed. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re looking at me.”
“Can’t I?”
“You can.”
His answer was simple.
No embarrassment. No attempt to hide.
Annie lowered her gaze first.
The desserts arrived before either of them could say more.
She immediately picked up her spoon.
Brian watched her take the first bite.
“Well?” he asked.
Annie closed her eyes. “This is the only reason I tolerate you.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Don’t. I might change my mind.”
He reached for his own dessert, but Annie pushed the chocolate mousse toward him.
“Eat.”
“I ordered it for you.”
“You can have some.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Annie’s eyes narrowed. “Brian.”
He paused.
She lowered her voice. “Don’t make me worry about you while I’m eating.”
Something shifted in his expression.
He picked up the spoon.
“Fine.”
Annie watched until he took a bite.
Only then did she return to her own dessert.
Brian looked at her across the table.
“You worry about me.”
Annie’s spoon stopped.
“Don’t sound so pleased.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m trying to understand it.”
She placed the spoon down. “It’s not complicated.”
“Then explain it.”
Annie looked toward the window. Outside, people passed beneath the streetlights, each of them moving through their own ordinary evening.
“I worry because you act as though your body is something you can negotiate with,” she said. “You ignore pain, skip meals, work until you can barely stand, and then tell everyone you’re fine.”
Brian remained silent.
“You don’t have to prove that you can endure everything,” she continued. “Not to me.”
His gaze lowered to the table.
“I know.”
Annie looked back at him. “Do you?”
“I’m learning.”
The words were quiet, but they carried more weight than she expected.
Brian lifted his eyes.
“I spent a long time believing that if I controlled everything, nothing could be taken from me,” he said. “I know now that it doesn’t work that way.”
Annie didn’t interrupt.
“I’m still trying to unlearn it.”
She reached across the table and placed her hand over his.
Brian’s fingers closed around hers.
“You don’t have to learn everything in one night,” she said.
His thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles.
“Will you be patient with me?”
Annie considered him.
“Absolutely not.”
Brian’s mouth curved.
“But,” she added, “I might stay while you figure it out.”
The smile disappeared from his face, replaced by something deeper.
“Annie.”
She squeezed his hand.
“Don’t make it dramatic.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“I was.”
She smiled. “See? I know you already.”
Brian looked down at their joined hands.
Then he said, “I want you to meet someone.”
Annie’s smile faded slightly. “Who?”
“My grandfather’s old physician.”
She blinked.
Brian continued, “He knows about my medical history. There are things I haven’t explained properly to Doctor Harrison, and I want to be honest this time.”
Annie studied his face.
“Are you asking me to come with you?”
“Yes.”
“Because you want me there?”
“Because I want you there.”
Her heart tightened.
This wasn’t a grand declaration. There were no promises of forever or dramatic vows.
It was something quieter.
Brian was allowing her into a place he had kept closed for years.
Annie looked down at their hands.
“Okay,” she said.
Brian’s thumb stopped moving. “Okay?”
“I’ll come with you.”
His expression softened with unmistakable relief.
“But I have conditions.”
“I expected that.”
“Breakfast afterward.”
“Of course.”
“And dessert.”
“We’re already eating dessert.”
“Then another dessert.”
Brian nodded. “Agreed.”
Annie leaned back in her chair, satisfied.
“Good. You’re learning quickly.”
Brian looked at her for a long moment.
Then he said, “There’s one more condition I want to ask for.”
Annie lifted an eyebrow. “You’re negotiating with me?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting. Continue.”
“Can I kiss you again?”
The question silenced her.
Even though she had expected it, even though she had thought about it throughout the day, hearing him ask still made her pulse race.
Annie leaned forward slightly.
“Here?”
“If you want.”
She looked around the quiet restaurant.
Then she turned back to him.
“After dessert.”
Brian’s eyes warmed.
Annie picked up her spoon, pretending to be completely unaffected.
“Don’t look so happy. You still owe me the chocolate mousse.”
“I’ll pay whatever you ask.”
She glanced at him.
The words were simple.
But this time, neither of them was talking about money.
And Annie knew it.