Mom chuckled uncertainly. “What do you mean?”
“I’m resigning as CEO of Big B Gas and Oil. My heart just isn’t in it. It never really was.”
“You’re going to run the ranch full time?”
“How did you—”
“Oh, Sam.” Her voice went wobbly with emotion. “Your father loved the company. But it was never your thing, sweetheart. I’ve known that for a long time. What made you realize that?”
“Annie.”
Becks grunted peevishly. “Annie, who you say is boring and you’re not attracted to.”
“Annie, who is everything her letter promised she’d be. And more.”
“What?” The look on Becks’s face was priceless.
Mom patted the space next to her on the couch. “Sam DeLuca, you sit yourself down here right now and tell us everything.”
He did as his mother instructed, partly because he didn’t dare disobey her, but mainly because he needed advice from the two people he loved most in the world.
“Annie is great,” he began. “Funny, smart, insightful. Pretty. But more than that, she gets me.”
Becks threw her hands up in the air. “So why didn’t you bring her home with you?”
“Be real. We’ve known each other less than a week.”
“And?” Mom asked pointedly.
“And she’s looking for a new job, and I live in Texas.”
“You could move closer to her,” Becks suggested.
“And run the ranch long-distance?”
“You’re right,” Becks mused thoughtfully, “that won’t work.”
“So tell her to move to Dallas,” Mom suggested. “You can get her a job at the company. Or better yet, with all your connections, you can help her find something else in town that might be a better fit.”
“Believe me, if I thought she’d take me up on the offer, I’d do it in a heartbeat, but Annie has more pride than that. This is something she needs to do on her own.” He went on to explain the story behind the Unfortunate Incident and the way the town kept harping on it. “Then there’s that segment the other day on Good Morning, USA. Even though it shouldn’t reflect badly on Annie, it was pretty humiliating for both us, but mostly for her. Now the town has something else to whisper about behind her back.”
“It doesn’t seem fair that you’re paying the price for what some jerk did to her,” said Becks.
“But I can see Annie’s point,” Mom said. “And your brother is right. It’s not fair to ask Annie to uproot her life for him. Not at this stage of their relationship.” She narrowed her eyes pensively. “Not without some kind of grand gesture.”
“That’s it!” said Becks. “You have to make a grand gesture.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what does that mean?”
“It’s like in Pretty Woman, when Richard Gere comes to get Julia Roberts in his limo and he’s got flowers in his hand.”
Mom jumped in eagerly. “Or in Fever Pitch, when Jimmy Fallon gives up his Red Sox season tickets and Drew Barrymore jumps on the field and gets arrested. That’s when they both know they’re willing to sacrifice something for one another.”
“Uh-huh,” said Sam. He didn’t like where this was going.
“So what can Sam do to prove to Annie that he’s serious about taking their relationship to the next level?” Mom mused aloud.
“It has to be big,” said Becks.
“How big?” Sam asked, but the sour feeling in his gut told him he already knew the answer to his own question.
Becks’s eyes gleamed rabidly. “Really big. Otherwise, you might just lose her forever.”
Mom nodded sagely. “She could be the one, Sam.”
Three weeks ago, he didn’t know Annie existed. Now, all he could do was think about her. Was he really going to let her slip out of his life without putting up a fight?
Hell, no. Mom and Becks were right. He needed to do something big.
There was only one big gesture apropos to this situation that came to mind. He scrubbed a hand down his face. Unbelievable.
“You wouldn’t still happen to have Tammy’s number, do you?” he asked his little sister. “I blocked her from my phone.”
15
Four weeks later …
Balancing a veggie tray in one hand and her overstuffed tote in the other, Annie opened the door to her parents’ kitchen for what would sadly be her last book club meeting. Latest Jodi Picoult novel: Check. Copies of the club’s updated member roster and schedule: Check.
News she’d waited all day to tell Mom: Double check.
Pop and Frank Jr. waved to her from the breakfast table. “There you are,” Pop said, munching on one of Mom’s chocolate chip cookies. “You’re the last one here.”
“Are you going to tell her tonight?” Frank Jr. asked. “At your book club meeting?”
“I figured since she tells Millie and Charlotte everything anyway, I might as well tell them all at once.”
“Good idea,” said Pop. “More efficient that way.”
Annie laid her tote on the counter, next to an empty bottle of wine. The sound of hushed female voices drifted in from the family room. “Looks like they’ve gotten an early start without me.”
“Yeah, Millie and Charlotte have been here for at least thirty minutes.”
“Wish me luck,” she muttered.
Pop and Frank Jr. pumped their fists in solidarity.
Her cell phone pinged with a text. Normally, she’d look at it later, but it might be Sam.
A couple of days after he’d left town, Sam had texted to tell her that he’d made it home and that Becks loved the car. So she’d texted back saying how glad she was. The next day he’d sent her a funny meme. Naturally, she’d reciprocated. This was followed by more texts. Within a few days, they’d graduated to phone calls. He talked about the ranch and his family and how much happier he was since he’d resigned as CEO of Big B Gas and Oil.
In turn, Annie talked about her job search. He listened and gave her some terrific advice, but he never again mentioned the idea of her moving to Dallas. She filled him in on the rest of her life too—her now weekly Girls’ Night Out excursions with Sophie and her friends, the happenings at Esposito’s Used Cars and Bridget’s latest shenanigans. She even told him how Walter and Connie were now an item, something that hadn’t surprised Sam at all.
They talked about books and sports, religion, family, and even politics. There was only one thing they didn’t talk about.
They didn’t talk about them.
No flirting. No hints of romance. No talk of any kind of future. Their relationship had settled into a nice, comfortable friendship, and Annie had never been more miserable.
She slid open her phone screen. Yep. It was a text from Sam. What are you doing?
At my mom’s. About to start book club.
How’s the job search going?
She wanted to tell him that she’d found a job, but this wasn’t something to discuss in a text. This was more of a deep phone conversation. First, however, she had to tell her mother.