Page 52 of Lush Curves

“Yeah. Can’t keep her waiting.”

But as it turned out, Madam of the Purple Eyes was gone, leaving nothing in the window booth but a lingering scent of crazy-expensive, flowery perfume. Annie sighed a bit, drank the water herself, and happily forgot all about the snippy woman with the amazing figure and hair that she’d kill to have.

She had other things to think about after all: she was going to Sam’s later, and she was making lasagna. She was going to go out on her lunch break and buy a sexy teddy for that evening. And best of all, she was going to go to sleep tonight and wake up tomorrow in the arms of the man that she loved, the man who loved her back.

Yes, life was pretty damn good. No need to spare that nasty diva even a second thought. Annie mentally crossed her fingers that she’d never see madam again, then just got on with her day.

It was probably a good thing that she had no clue what was waiting for her at Sam’s that night; it was undoubtedly a great thing that she had no clue that her living, breathing fairy tale was about to be shattered.

And not just by one female – but by two.

**

Annie knocked on Sam’s door, almost bubbling over with happiness and hormones.God, she was so painfully turned on just at the thought of seeing him, and she suspected that she’d spontaneously combust the second that door opened.

When the door did open, though, lust was the last thing that she felt.

“Sam,” she said, frightened at the look his face, so frightened that any and all horny fantasies flew out of her head immediately. “Sam, what’s wrong?”

“Annie.”

That was all he said, but that was enough: for the very first time since meeting him and hearing him say her name, she didn’t hear a note of calm welcome, of soothing warmth. No, she heard something else; something opposite.

She heard fear.

“What’s happened?” she said. “Sam? Is it your brother?”

He blinked. “No. Oh, no. Vic is fine.”

“So… what… who –”

“Come in,” he said, stepping aside, as if suddenly remembering basic social graces. “Let me take your coat.”

“Sam –”

“Annie,” he said gently. “We need to talk. Something… well,someonehas happened.”

“Someone?” she echoed, totally lost. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, God, Annie… I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“Justtellme, Sam. Whatever it is, justsayit, OK? Because you’re completely freaking me out now.”

“Honey…” He glanced over his shoulder, back towards the living room. “Before I met you, I was living with –”

Just then, Annie heard fast, light footsteps, and she froze. She knewthatsound, because of course she did: she was a mother after all, and she’d spent years and years listening to the sound of tiny feet on the floor above her head, in the next room, at her side, and she’d often heard it in stereo. She’d recognize a small child’s running footsteps in her sleep. She stared at Sam, then she stared down at the little person who had appeared at his side.

A little person with the softest, brightest, sweetest chocolate-brown eyes that she’d ever seen in a face… well. Except for the eyes of one other person, a person who just happened to be standing right there in front of Annie.

She met those eyes now, and saw nothing but torment and conflict shining out at her. And regret too, so much regret, and in that second, she knew that everything was different.

Everything as she knew it was over.

“Hello,” the little girl said, twirling a finger in her dark hair.

“Hello,” Annie responded, feeling like she might pass out, but her Mommy instincts kicking in fast enough to both save her sanity and keep her vertical. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Cindy.”

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