The Perfect Proposal (18 page)

Orphaned again.

The old Annie was back, and in full force,
Mitch noted grimly. From his vantage point on the sofa, he watched
as she strode into the kitchen, splashed coffee in a cup, then
retraced her path back to the office she claimed this morning, a
cell phone at her ear. The fax screeched, grating on his nerves
like fingernails down a chalk board.

How could she do it? he
wondered again, the way he’d wondered all damned night. How could
she act as though this weekend had never happened? As though
they’d
never happened.
When she’d made the announcement last night, Mitch had been
stunned, then hurt. More than hurt. The initial dread he’d felt
when Annie had pulled away from him couldn’t adequately be named.
Then, like every good male who was adept at avoiding issues of the
heart, he’d funneled all that emotion into sentiment he could
benefit from—anger.

After all, how could he dwell on the ache in
his chest when he was working up a good rage? Mitch pushed a hand
through his hair and sighed wearily. He only hoped his fury could
sustain him long enough to get this damned contest over with, then
go back to Atlanta and lick his wounds in private. And, though he
was loathe to admit it, Annie Witherspoon had wounded him deeply.
Somehow over the past forty-eight hours, Annie had gone from being
a thorn in his side, to a thorn in his heart.

Nevertheless, he’d come to another surprising
conclusion during the night as well. One that made Mitch secretly
wonder if he needed to seek psychiatric help. While Annie had
disappointed him and substantially bruised his pride, Mitch was
amazed to find that he didn’t have it in him to break her heart.
Losing her chance to head Hightower Advertising would undoubtedly
render Annie the final bow in a life that had been one hard knock
after another. He’d wrestled with the decision all night. Cursed
himself for a fool, cursed her; cursed his luck.

But when he’d weighed all the alternatives,
simply throwing the campaign had seemed like the only choice he
could live with. Hightower would still be his, even if didn’t
personally run it. If she didn’t get the CEO position, Mitch knew
Annie would leave, and then she’d have nothing. How could he leave
her with nothing, when he suddenly had the overwhelming urge to
give her everything? Including his heart.

Mind made up, Mitch proceeded to put together
a campaign that would indeed bowl Les over—but not in a good
way.

Looking more bewildered than usual, Les
followed Annie out of his office on Wednesday and smiled hesitantly
at her. “I’ll be in touch, Annie. That was quite a…” The little
cowboy frowned, seemingly at an uncharacteristic loss for words.
“That was something,” Les boomed at last. “Mitch,” Les told him.
“I’ve got to make a call, then I’ll see you.”

Mitch nodded grimly. An uncomfortable silence
ensued as Les retreated to his office. Mitch was reluctant to look
at Annie, but couldn’t help himself. Dressed in a beige silk suit,
hair arranged in a sophisticated up-do, she looked very much like
an up-and-coming executive. Only the small lines of worry at her
eyes and the drawn look of her otherwise beautiful lips gave away
how she really felt. The last couple of days living in silence had
taken their toll on Annie as well. She looked ready to break.

“
How’d it go?” Mitch forced
himself to ask, literally aching for her.

The smile she’d managed for Les wavered, then
turned unnaturally bright. She clutched her briefcase until her
knuckles whitened. “Well enough, I think. I’m certain that I did
what I came here to do.”

Mitch almost wanted to applaud her spunk. He
nodded, his throat constricting. “I’m glad,” he said sincerely.

Evidently believing him, Annie’s eyes
softened for a moment. For a split second, an undisguised longing
glowed in her expression, making Mitch’s chest tighten. “Thank
you,” she murmured. She ducked his head, then looked at him and
gestured awkwardly toward Les’s door. Despair radiated from her
stiff form. “Good luck.” With that, Annie squared her shoulders and
walked away. Out of his life forever.

“
I’m ready when you are,”
Les announced from the doorway. “Come on in here boy, and dazzle
me! Humph. I’m ready to be dazzled,” he mumbled under his breath,
giving Mitch a brief pause.

Resigned to his fate, Mitch walked in and
immediately launched into his pitiful pitch. When he was finished,
he waited expectantly for Les’s reaction.

Garbed in a turquoise outfit which put Mitch
in mind of a color-blind peacock, Les sat behind the dining table
he called a desk and gazed at Mitch with perplexed little eyes.
Then, at last, he spoke. “That’s it?” he asked indignantly.

Mitch nodded.

Les rocked back in his chair until Mitch
feared he would topple over. “Why, that’s the most ridiculous
excuse for a campaign strategy I’ve ever heard in my life!” The
older man boomed. He shook his head disbelievingly. “I tell ya,
Mitch, I’m sorely disappointed. Is that all you can come up with?”
Seemingly baffled, Les scratched his balding pate. “Honestly, I
didn’t think there could be anything sorrier than Annie’s idea, but
yours takes the prize. Another blasted picnic, with a guy dressed
up like a giant hot dog actually grilling—and eating—his little hot
dog cousins! That would make him a cannibal, don’t you see, and
—”

“
I’m sorry.“ Mitch frowned
as he interrupted the last part of Les’s tirade. “Annie pitched a
picnic?” Mitch asked, suddenly suspicious.

“
Yep, she did,” Les
confirmed, smacking his pudgy hands on the desk in consternation.
“And after I told you both I didn’t want no blasted—pardon my
French—picnic!”

Mitch’s mind reeled. She’d tried to sell the
picnic scenario? Knowing that Les had specifically requested they
not use that angle? He frowned. But that didn’t make sense. Why
would she have—

She’d thrown it!
Mitch’s heart nearly stopped for a moment. A
peculiar feeling made his throat seem to close. Oh, Annie, Mitch
thought, humbled and awed by her selflessness.

“
Why if I didn’t know any
better,” Les remarked in a voice that was as shrewd as it was
outraged, “I’d be inclined to think that neither of you wanted to
develop this campaign.”

Mitch lunged to his feet, not even bothering
with his briefcase. “Les, we’ll have to continue this another time.
I have to speak to Annie. You can, uh, look at this stuff while I’m
gone. I’m sure we can work out something.”

Les started. “What? Another time?” he
sputtered. “You’ve been here for over a week preparing for this
here golden opportunity and now you’re tellin’ me I have to wait?”
he blustered.

“
That’s right, Les,” Mitch
said, striding toward the door. “Something’s come up.”

Les frowned thoughtfully. “Funny,” he mused.
“That’s exactly what Annie said. She left for Atlanta as soon as
she was finished with her presentation. I tried to talk her into
sticking around for the barbecue, but —”

Mitch’s hand stilled at the knob. “What?”

“
Annie said she had to get
back to Atlanta. She left as soon as she finished that pitiful,
uninspiring presentation of hers.” Les scowled in distaste. “Humph.
She had a cartoon hot dog in mind,” he groused. “But it kind
resembled my packing plant manager, Ed Morris.”

When he had time, he would laugh about that,
Mitch thought. But right now, time was of the essence. How could he
take Annie into his arms and kiss, then tell her that he loved her
if she’d boarded a plane back to Atlanta without him?

Whoa!
He loved her?
Mitch’s he-man mentality
balked at the singularly terrifying emotion.

Admittedly, Mitch liked her.
Annie was deliciously intelligent and had a great sense of humor.
And she was prickly and vulnerable, not to mention all those little
obsessive-compulsive tendencies he’d actually found endearing.
Mitch felt his lips curl into a goofy grin. Annie was…Annie
was…
perfect for
him
, he realized suddenly. Mitch knew
at that moment that he did indeed love Annie
Witherspoon.

There was only one problem. Could he make her
love him?

She’d been wrong. The day that she’d met
Mitch hadn’t been the mother of all bad days. Today was. Annie
blinked back tears as she mechanically tossed her personal
possessions into a cardboard box. Why was it that her life could
always be packed away in bags and boxes? Annie wondered, feeling an
uncharacteristic wave of self-pity.

Coming to the office right after she’d
returned to Atlanta seemed like the best thing to do. Annie knew
leaving would be a painful experience and hoped to do it quickly,
if she could summon up the courage.

Throwing the Winning Wiener campaign had used
up most of what she had left. Still, Annie knew it was for the
best. For Mitch, anyway, it not for her, and for some reason she
didn’t care to explore, the idea of Mitch’s unhappiness had
depressed her more than her own. Annie knew an important revelation
lurked in that thought, but couldn’t bring herself to admit it.

She couldn’t inflict any unhappiness on such
an easygoing man.

Truth be told, Annie supposed that was they
she’d been drawn to Mitch in the first place. Where Annie was
cynical, Mitch was optimistic. He laughed, loved and enjoyed life
with a zeal that made Annie wonder why she’d always been so
reluctant to try new things. Why she’d never given more thought to
marrying and having a family of her own. A sigh seeped past her
lips and tears pricked her eyes.

She’d been a coward, that was why. She’d been
so busy guarding her heart—her life—that she’d never considered
that she might be missing something other than pain. Well, no more.
Annie was through living life on the sidelines; she planned to join
the game. True, she had lost her chance to head the company she
worked for, but she had gained something more
important—courage.

Annie took a deep breath and gazed about her
office through a haze of tears. She certainly would miss this
place, though. This office had been here home away from home. Her
refuge. Brilliant inspiration had struck—

“
Hey, Mitch are
congratulations in order yet?” someone called from down the hall,
pulling Annie from her little trip down memory lane.

“
I’ll let you know in a
minute,” he replied. Annie could hear the smile in his
voice.

Annie stilled and her heart beat faster. What
was Mitch doing here? He and Les ought to be toasting his
successful new campaign right about now. He shouldn’t be here. He
should—

Suddenly Mitch was in her office. His hair
was mussed, his tie askew. He looked harried and happy and just
plain good. He smiled at her and she melted. “Annie, we have to
talk.”

Annie repressed the urge to throw herself in
his arms and firmed her resolve. “Don’t you know anything about the
advertising business, Mitch? You aren’t supposed to ditch the
client after an important presentation,” she pointed out.

“
Annie, that’s what I have
to talk to you about —”

“
Look, Mitch,” Annie
interrupted, stuffing things into her bag. “You got what you
wanted. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

“
No.”

Annie raised a questioning gaze to him.
“No?”

His eyes softened with tenderness and he
stepped closer to her. Close enough to touch. “No. I didn’t get
what I wanted.”

“
Les didn’t sign off on your
campaign?” she asked, disturbed by the look of longing she read on
Mitch’s face. In his eyes.

Mitch’s lips tipped up into a half-grin and
mischief shimmered in his blue gaze. “He apparently wasn’t any more
impressed with my picnic idea than yours.”

Annie’s brow puckered in confusion. “Picnic?
But you weren’t supposed to —” She studied him for a moment. “You
pitched a picnic campaign too?” Surely he hadn’t…

Smiling, Mitch nodded and lessened the
distanced between them another step. “Yes. Although your cartoon
hot dog was an original touch.” Mitch hummed and stroked his jaw.
“Wish I’d thought of that.”

Perplexed and attempting to quash the hope
that had blossomed in her heart, Annie shook her head, then
searched his eyes. “B-but why?” she stammered. “What on earth could
you have been thinking?“

Mitch’s lips descended to hers and swept away
her need to argue. The taste of Mitch exploded on her tongue,
leaving her weak-kneed with desire. A murmur of pure pleasure
softened her mouth and Mitch took it greedily. Then Annie’s arms
twined about his neck and she leaned into him, desperate for his
strength. Okay, heart, she told herself. Admit it. You’re in love
with him.

Regretfully, Mitch broke the kiss and leaned
his forehead against hers. “I didn’t get what I wanted, Annie,”
Mitch told her, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Because I want you.
Now. Forever. I don’t have an art board, but picture this,” he
said, lacing her fingers with his. “Me. You. I’m in a tux, you’re
in a white gown. Hundreds of people. White doves, tiered cake. With
me so far?” he asked. Annie bit her lip and nodded. “Now fade to
this. Me. You. Riding horseback together, a roaring fire and a
braided rug. And time, Annie. All the time in the world. In one
word…forever.” He paused. “So how was that?”

Tears pooled in Annie’s eyes, her heart
swelled and a wonderful sense of joy filled her soul. Annie glanced
up her shining eyes met his. She smiled. “I’d say that was a
perfect proposal.”

“
So do we have a deal?” he
asked.

Annie pressed a light kiss to his lips and
whispered, “I’m certainly sold. Yes!”