Annie shouldn’t feel the need to explain, but she couldn’t help herself. “This is a completely different situation from Russell. Walter and I are taking our time before we decide to get engaged. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Bridget still looked unconvinced. “If the company is okay and you and Walter are fine,” she said, making air quotes, “then what’s got you all tizzified this morning?”
“That’s not a real word.”
“Let me rephrase. What’s got you acting like not you?”
“I can’t believe my father hasn’t fired you.”
“Your father can’t find the paper clips without me. Besides, he’s a sweetheart. He doesn’t fire anyone. That’s your job.”
True.
“And in the four years you’ve been here, you’ve only fired one person, and that’s because he stopped coming to work, so that was kind of a given.”
Also true.
Oh … why not show Bridget what she was watching? Miss Nosy Pants was never going to stop digging until she found out the truth. “Close the door, and I’ll tell you what’s going on. But only if you promise to keep this between us.”
Bridget eagerly did as instructed.
Even though the door was now closed and they were alone, Annie still lowered her voice. Just in case. “So, there’s this silly show on TV that Mom watches called Single Gal and last night—”
“I love that show! Did you see how she kept the duck? What was she thinking?”
“I know. I mean, what kind of guy goes on national television wearing a duck suit?”
“Is that what you’re looking at? Last night’s show?”
“Not exactly.” Annie hit the play button on the YouTube video.
The screen came alive with a shot of Kelly Seacrest, Good Morning, USA’s bubbly host, sitting on a couch wearing an overly tight black dress and a sly expression. “We’re back with Sam DeLuca, one of the contestants who, unbelievably, didn’t get a rose last night on Single Gal.”
Bridget gasped. “It’s Gas Station Sam! I love him. Hannah was crazy not to give this guy a rose. I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed for eating crackers, that’s for sure.”
Annie had always found that expression uncomfortably itchy, but she nodded in agreement.
Sam DeLuca sat across from Kelly, wearing jeans, a blue shirt and a delicious-looking five o’clock shadow. Gone was last night’s suit and tie and look of complete terror. Right now, he seemed more annoyed than anything else.
“So, Sam,” Kelly said, “are you aware of the reaction you’ve gotten from last night’s episode?”
“Not really. What are people saying?” He grimaced. “Or do I not want to know?”
Kelly laughed flirtatiously. “Sam! America is officially in love with you. Women have been flooding the network’s website trying to get your phone number. You do know that Twitter crashed last night?”
“Sorry?” he said uncertainly.
“No need to be sorry. Sam, what do you have to say to the women of America?”
“Not much. I’m just a regular guy. I mean, I’m not anything special.”
Bridget sighed. “Is this guy for real?”
Annie had to admit, there was something incredibly appealing about Sam DeLuca’s reluctance to soak up the spotlight.
“Not just good-looking but humble as well.” Kelly’s eyes glittered with anticipation. “Sam, what would you say if I told you that I have the goods on you?”
“I’d say someone in the Texas Correctional System has a big mouth,” he said, deadpan.
Kelly laughed. “Good-looking, humble, and a great sense of humor. Okay, Sam, it looks like I’m going to have to tell our viewers all about you.” She looked into the camera to address the audience. “Hannah, girl, you missed out. Sam DeLuca doesn’t work in a gas station. He owns one. Or to be more specific, he owns a chain of them.” Kelly turned back to Sam. “Big B Gas and Oil was founded by your grandfather, the one and only Cyrus Byrd, and you’re the company’s CEO. You graduated from Texas A&M with your undergraduate degree, then went on to earn an MBA from Harvard. Isn’t that right, Sam?”
He shifted around in his chair. “It’s true. I work for the family business.”
“The family business that’s worth billions of dollars,” Kelly shot back.
“It’s a public company, so our figures are transparent.”
Bridget gasped. “He’s like … a billionaire.”
“Most likely not,” said Annie. “That’s the company’s worth, not his.”
Bridget playfully punched her in the shoulder. “Well, there you go. You found his fatal flaw. He’s only a millionaire, not a billionaire.”
“What’s it like being the grandson of one of Texas’s most colorful characters?” asked Kelly. “Is it true that Cyrus Byrd once walked into the Texas State Senate with a shotgun, threatening to shoot anyone who voted against him on a drilling bill?”
“That sounds like my grandfather,” Sam said without any emotion.
Kelly tried the question from a couple of other angles, but Sam dodged them with the same skilled vagueness he’d used earlier.
“This grandfather must have been a real hoot,” muttered Bridget.
Annie silently agreed.
“Enough about your family,” said Kelly. “Last night you described your perfect woman as someone who gives you the zing.” She leaned forward in her seat. “Can you be a bit more specific?” It was embarrassing the way she was practically hitting on him in front of the entire country.
“Not really.”
“Oh, c’mon, Sam. Throw me a bone. I’m not letting you go until you answer.”
A flash of annoyance crept into his eyes. Annie knew exactly how he felt. If she looked up Busybody Faux Journalist in the dictionary, Kelly Seacrest would pop up as the definition.
“Look, I just want a nice girl who gets along with my family, doesn’t mind a guy who works too much, and thinks Texas is heaven.”
“I might just be your girl, Cowboy.” Kelly giggled suggestively.
“No wonder you’ve been watching this all day,” said Bridget. “This guy is too good to be true.”
“I know.” Annie snapped her laptop shut. “He’s kind of perfect.”
“Perfect for you, you mean. Annie, you have to Tweet him.”
“You want me to Tweet him? I don’t even know him. What on earth would I say?”
“How about, ‘Hey there, loved you on Single Gal.’ Or, ‘Hey there, loved you on Good Morning, USA,’ or you could just cut to the chase and say, ‘Hey there, wanna marry me?’”
Annie laughed. “For a minute I thought you were serious.”
Bridget glared at her. “I am serious.”
“I have a boyfriend, remember?”
“You mean Walter? Annie, honey, wake up and smell the coffee. You and Walter have been dating for four years. You’re what? Thirty-one, thirty-two? You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
“I’m twenty-nine, and Walter and I haven’t been dating for four years. It’s only been three.”