Chapter 26

Howard's POV

The autumn sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office at Howard Technologies, casting long shadows across the antique mahogany desk. I turned from the windows, where construction cranes dotted the horizon like mechanical sentinels, to face my mother, who sat perfectly poised in one of the leather visitor chairs, every inch the society matron in her impeccable Chanel suit.

"Catherine says she's willing to accept Lucy now!" Mother's voice carried a note of barely contained triumph as she straightened in her seat. The morning light caught on her designer jewelry, a calculated display of Upper East Side refinement. "She's a Morgan, Howard. Harvard Business School,family connections throughout Wall Street..."

"I'm busy." My voice carried the kind of frost that would have sent most board members scrambling for cover. "I don't have time for dating."

"This is unacceptable!" The rejection transformed Mother's carefully maintained composure into barely contained fury, her perfect makeup twisting with anger. "You must make time to see her again!"

I maintained my silence, focusing instead on the merger documents awaiting my signature. The familiar rhythm of corporate life felt like a shield against her manipulations. "Howard, you're nearly thirty-five!" She lowered her voice to that precise pitch that had once made me feel like a disappointing child."When do you plan to marry? To have children of your own?" "I don't plan to have children." The words came out measured, controlled. Mother's face turned ashen. "Is this why I just found that Annie woman wandering around your executive floor?" Mother's voice dripped with disdain. "A divorced caretaker from Boston, suddenly designing games for Howard Technologies-"

"Leave Annie out of this." The warning in my tone could have frozen the Hudson.

"I will not allow this!" Mother clutched at her pearls, perfectly groomed eyebrows contorting with rage. "She's completely unsuitable for someone of your position!"

"Planning to interfere again?" Though my voice remained steady, danger lurked beneath its surface. "Mother, remember what I said last time."

Her eyes glittered dangerously. "Oh? And what about Lucy's custody arrangement?" Her voice dropped to a silken whisper. "The court might find it...concerning that her guardian is mixing business with pleasure,especially with an employee responsible for her care. Such conflict of interest..."

The implied threat hit its mark. Lucy's wellbeing was the one area where I couldn't afford any risks.

"I'm only thinking of the family's best interests, dear," she said softly,victory evident in her measured steps as she left my office. Only after Mother's clicking heels faded down the hallway did I allow my shoulders to relax slightly. The antique clock in the corner marked time with soft ticks, a counterpoint to my racing thoughts. My mind drifted to Annie's face in the car this morning - how she'd skillfully deflected my attempt to explain the dinner with Catherine,her usual warmth carefully masked behind professional courtesy. Why was she dodging me? I thought it was a perfect chance to reveal my feelings for her.

The memory of her lilac scent lingering in the confined space made my fingers tighten on the armrest.

Everything had changed since Annie entered our lives. Before her,I'd shouldered the weight of the family business alone, thrust into leadership too young after my brother and sister-in-law's yacht accident. Mother's expectations had been a constant pressure, but I'd managed by focusing solely on work and Lucy. Until Annie arrived and showed me everything I'd been missing.

I stood at my office window, watching the morning sun reflect off the neighboring skyscrapers. The weight of the company, of Lucy's future,of Mother's expectations - it all used to feel manageable when I kept my world carefully compartmentalized. Work was work. Home was home.Everything had its proper place.

Then Annie walked into our lives with her gentle smile and quiet strength,and suddenly those carefully constructed walls began to crumble. She was a strong woman who had saved her own life and a man's.

A knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts.

"Come in," I called, turning to findSusan, my secretary, entering with a portfolio. "The character designs from Miss Annie Baker, sir." She placed them on my desk with practiced efficiency. "The design team just reviewed her initial sketches. They're quite impressed with her artistic vision." I opened the portfolio, and immediately understood what they meant. Annie's artwork carried that same warmth she brought to everything-the characters seemed to breathe with life and emotion. Just like how she'd breathed life back into our home, into Lucy... into me.

"The emotional elements in her designs are exactly what we've been looking for," Susan continued professionally. "The team believes her style would resonate strongly with our target demographic."

"They're right," I agreed softly, thinking of how naturally she'd connected with Lucy, breaking through barriers that countless specialists hadn't been able to touch. "She has a gift for understanding what people need."

Susan hesitated, then added carefully, "Several board members stopped by earlier. They were quite interested in her portfolio."

I stared at Annie's signature in the corner of one illustration,remembering how she looked when she worked - that slight furrow of concentration between her brows, the way she bit her lip when she was particularly focused. The memory stirred something in my chest.

"Sir?" Susan's voice brought me back to the present. "Should I begin preparing any paperwork regarding her position?" The rooftop garden offered a refuge from the corporate atmosphere below,autumn wind carrying the faint scent of late-blooming flowers. I found Annie at her spot near the rose trellis, completely absorbed in her sketchbook. The October sunlight caught in her hair, highlighting subtle auburn threads I'd never noticed before. I allowed myself a moment to simply watch her work, admiring the way she bit her lower lip in concentration, how her hand moved with suchcertainty across the paper. The familiar surge of desire mixed with something deeper, more dangerous.

"Your designs are excellent," I said finally, moving to lean against the railing beside her. "Would you consider working here permanently?" I held out the contract I'd had legal prepare this morning.

Annie accepted the document, but her eyes widened when she reached the salary figure. "A hundred thousand?"

"Too low?" I couldn't quite suppress my smile.

"It's too much!" She looked up at me, genuine shock written across her features. "The market rate for illustration work isn't nearly-"

"You're surprisingly un-mercenary." The observation carried more weight than I intended.

"I'm already fortunate." Annie set down her sketchbook, autumn wind tugging at loose strands of her hair. "Having work I love, being abe to care for Lucy..." She turned to face me, sincerity shining in her eyes. "It's more than I ever expected."

"Annie." Her name came out softer than I intended,weighted with everything I couldn't seem to say. "You don't need to be so careful with me."

"And what about Lucy's custody arrangement?" However, my mother's voice rang in my head just as I thought I could tell my feelings for Annie.