Making a Comeback. Kristina Mathews
spoiled little rich girls. True, modeling wasn’t exactly saving the world. But it was the only job Annabelle had ever had.
She’d have to think about that after she got the girls their breakfast. At least she could still be a mother. She hadn’t done too bad in that job. Her daughters were happy, healthy, and adjusting better than expected with all the changes they’d gone through in the last few months.
She’d been plagued by guilt for making the girls change schools in the middle of the year, but they had all needed a fresh start. At least they loved their new teacher. Both girls were absolutely smitten with Miss Ramirez. They’d come home from their first day engaged in a heated debate over whether she looked more like Jasmine or Pocahontas from their favorite princess movies.
Her daughters didn’t seem to mind the move from the big city of San Francisco to the small coastal town of Aurelia Beach. They liked living half a block from the ocean. Being able to build sandcastles practically in their backyard was a definite plus.
Heading downstairs, she heard her daughters’ voices coming from the kitchen.
“Is that your guitar?” It sounded like Sophie. “Will you play for us?”
“Sure.” Cooper was still there, apparently about to perform a breakfast concert.
“Do you know ‘Let It Go’?” Olivia loved that song. Maybe a little too much, she sang it over and over and over.
“I know ‘Let It Be.’ I’ll play that for you.” Cooper strummed his guitar and sang The Beatles’ classic.
Annabelle closed her eyes and leaned against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. He had an incredible voice. Soulful. Sensuous. And downright sexy.
She needed to steady herself before facing him in the light of day. She tried to brush her hair back off her forehead, but it caught in the antibiotic ointment. Man, she was a mess. At least she looked better than she had last night. And even without the pain pills the doctor gave her, she felt better, too.
“Good morning.” Annabelle tried to put on her most sunshiny face. “I’ll get breakfast going for you here in just a jiffy.”
“We already ate.” Cooper looked up from his guitar. “They helped me find the cereal. And I made coffee. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No. That’s great.” She was a little thrown by how he’d just made himself right at home. Or maybe it was because Clayton had never made breakfast for his daughters. Not once. Not even when she’d had the flu and could barely get out of bed.
“Can I get you anything?” Cooper stood, setting his guitar on the kitchen table. “Cereal? Coffee?”
“No. I’ll get it.” She wasn’t sure she could eat just yet. Her stomach was a little queasy. Maybe some coffee though, to clear her head.
As if coffee would do the trick.
She poured herself a cup and sat down.
“So, I’ll hang around until you’ve had your shower, then I’ll head on home.” Cooper picked up the empty cereal bowls and carried them to the sink. “I figure you could use a little time to yourself. Unless you need me to stay.”
“No. I’ll be fine. You’ve done enough already.” Annabelle didn’t want to be a burden. “Surely you have better things to do.”
“Nothing that can’t wait.” He rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “But I don’t want to get in the way.”
“I’ll try not to drop the shampoo.” She took a sip of her coffee, torn between wanting him to go away and just wanting him. “That way you won’t have to come running.”
“I’ll try not to overreact.” He slid into the chair next to her. “But I do take my responsibilities seriously.”
“I’m not your responsibility.” The last thing she wanted was to be taken care of.
“Until you’re back on your feet, I feel like I should at least be close by.”
She stood up, nearly knocking the chair over. “See, I can stand just fine. I can walk, and shower all by myself. I can even take care of my daughters.”
He glanced at the girls, who were sitting there, eyes wide. They’d never heard their mother raise her voice before. Annabelle had spent too much of her life putting on a happy face, pretending that life was perfect.
“I’d like to think you’d be able to take better care of your daughters if you take care of yourself first.” He looked at her with genuine concern, and there was something in his tone of voice that made her think he wasn’t being condescending. “I’ll feel better if I know you’ll rest and ask for help when you need it.”
She wasn’t sure what bothered her more—that he was right or that he’d discovered one of her biggest weaknesses. She’d never been very good at asking for things. Sure, she seemed to have it all, but not because she asked. A lot of what she’d been given was more because she had a hard time saying no when someone offered.
Until now. Why was she so resistant to having Cooper’s help? Was it because she was trying to start a new life? Or was she worried she’d fall for him, and like she’d done in her previous relationships, give up her identity?
“Well, I know where to find you.” She took her coffee and headed for the shower. Cooper’s voice carried upstairs over the sound of his guitar. He was doing a good job of keeping the girls entertained. She tried to be grateful for that, but they didn’t need to get too attached to him either.
She showered quickly and without dropping so much as a sliver of soap. Dressed in comfortable clothes, with hair up in a plastic clip, she was a far cry from the heavily made-up and styled look she’d had at the photo shoot.
Warily, she tried to recall more details of her job yesterday. It was still fuzzy, like faded photographs. A snapshot here of a silky blouse being draped over her shoulders. Flashes of sound, the whirr of the camera, the photographer’s voice.
No, it wasn’t the photographer’s voice she recalled, it was Cooper’s. Had she spoken to him that morning? Just how close were they?
She tried really hard to remember more of the man who lived next door.
Annabelle remembered being six years old and desperately trying to get her father’s attention. She’d put on fashion shows, dance routines, and acrobatics. Daddy had barely looked up from his business reports.
She remembered being a teenager. When boys and men had started to notice her, to appreciate her looks, her figure. Maybe there was something worthy about her after all. She’d started competing in pageants and had made third runner up for Miss Texas. And she certainly remembered the thrill of being approached by a real agent. Had she ever considered modeling?
At least her father had taken time out of his busy schedule to look over the contract and make sure it was legitimate. No daughter of his would be exploited or paid less than she was worth. But once the contract had been signed he’d dismissed her, just like always.
How could she remember everything she’d tried to forget, but she couldn’t remember Cooper? The doctor had told her it wasn’t uncommon for long term memory to come back quicker than more recent events. Still, she should recall more details about her hunky next-door neighbor.
She could picture him running up the beach, sitting on his porch, and playing his guitar. She even recalled peering through his window and seeing him lifting weights. But she had absolutely no recollection of interacting with him.
* * * *
Annabelle had sent Cooper home not long after her shower. It was Saturday, so she didn’t have to worry about getting the girls ready for school. That was one less thing to think about. She was now grateful the girls took the bus to school. She hadn’t planned on it, but when she’d gone in to register them, the school secretary had mentioned the bus forms and Sophie had been so excited