An awkward pause fell. He watched her, waited, the pulse at the base of his neck marking the passing seconds.

“He’ll fold.” She forced a smile. “Everybody knows it but him.”

“Interesting.” Molly refrained from saying more, although Annabelle knew she wanted to.

Twenty minutes later, she and Heath were heading back toward the city, the silence in the car as thick as the castle cake’s pink frosting, but not nearly as sweet. He’d done better than she’d expected with the girls. He’d listened respectfully to Hannah’s concerns, and Pippi adored him. Annabelle had been surprised how many times she’d looked over to see him crouched down talking to her.

Heath finally broke the silence. “I’d already made up my mind to rehire you before I heard about the retreat.”

“Oh, I believe you,” she said, using sarcasm to hide her hurt.

“I mean it.”

“Whatever lets you sleep at night.”

“Okay, Annabelle. Unload. Get it all out. Everything you’ve been saving up all afternoon.”

“Unloading is the prerogative of equals. Lowly employees like myself pucker their lips and kiss the sweet spot.”

“You were out of line, and you know it. This thing with Phoebe never gets any better. I thought I might be able to change that.”

“Whatever.”

He shot into the left lane. “Do you want me to bow out? I can call Molly in the morning and tell her that something’s come up. Is that what you want me to do?”

“Like I have any choice if I want to keep you as a client.”

“Okay, let me make it easy for you. Regardless of what you decide, you’re rehired. One way or another, our contract still holds.”

She let him see she wasn’t impressed with his offer. “And I can just imagine how cooperative you’d be if I refused to take you on the retreat.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to be honest. Look me in the eye and admit that you didn’t have the slightest intention of rehiring me until you heard about the retreat.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He didn’t look her in the eye, but at least he was being honest. “I wasn’t going to forgive you. And you know why? Because I’m a ruthless son of a bitch.”

“Fine. You can come with me.”

Annabelle spent the next few days feeling pissy. She tried to chalk her mood up to getting her period, but she wasn’t as good at self-deception as she used to be. Heath’s cold-blooded behavior had left her feeling bruised, betrayed, and just plain mad. One mistake, and he’d written her off. If it weren’t for the Wind Lake retreat, she’d never have seen him again. She was totally expendable, another one of his worker bees.

On Tuesday he left a terse voice message. “Portia has someone she wants me to meet at eight-thirty on Thursday evening. Set me up with one of your introductions at eight so we can kill two birds with one stone.”