Chapter 25 Anna
ANNA
We stood there until my shaking stopped. I sniffled, feeling a wave of embarrassment over my emotional meltdown. “I, uh, need to get into dry clothes,” I mumbled, glancing down at my soggy, tear-streaked mess of an outfit.
He nodded. “Let me get you an umbrella.”
“I can make it.” Using my bag as a makeshift cover, I hurried toward the cottage, desperate to escape.
Inside, I dropped my bag and flicked the light switch. Nothing. My breath caught in my throat. Of course. The generator for the main house didn’t extend to the outbuildings.
I pulled out my phone, my trembling hands fumbling as I tried to turn on the flashlight. No battery. My lungs felt like they were shrinking, every breath a struggle. The exhaustion and the fear weighed me down like bricks. What else could go wrong?
A knock at the door startled me. I opened it to find Luke standing under a massive umbrella. “Why don’t you sleep in the main house tonight?” His voice was steady and kind. “It has power.” When I hesitated, he tried again. “C’mon, the place is big enough for both of us.”
I sighed. There was no point in arguing. The cottage was a hot, sticky, miserable mess. “Let me get some dry clothes.”
Using the flashlight on Luke’s phone, I threw a few things into a bag and returned to the door, where he was waiting. “I know there’s an umbrella around here somewhere,” I muttered, more to myself than him.
“This one’s big enough for both of us.” He held it over me. “Can I help you with your bag?”
Even with the oversized umbrella, our arms brushed occasionally as we made our way to the main house.
I tried to ignore the tingling sensation.
Despite everything—his remarks earlier, his recklessness during the flood—a part of me was relieved to be in the mansion.
Being alone in the cottage, with the storm raging outside, wasn’t something I could handle tonight.
And, if I were being honest, it had felt good when he held me.
As we stepped into the house, the awkward silence grew thicker. It was made worse by Luke blushing and trying not to look at my chest. I looked down. My wet shirt clung to me like a second skin. I folded my arms, my cheeks flushing.
He dropped his eyes and cleared his throat. “You should change. Come with me. I’ll show you to a room where you can stay for the night.”
I followed him up a grand staircase and into a cozy chamber with a plush white bed and a small fireplace. He paused at the door, turning back to me. “Anna.” His voice was low. “I’m sorry for what I said before at Muses. And for scaring you with the car.”
As Luke’s words hung in the air, a strange mix of emotions rippled through me. The sincerity in his voice caught me entirely off guard.
I nodded, unsure what to say.
He knocked lightly on the doorframe as a goodbye and disappeared down the stairs.
After showering and changing into dry clothes, I wandered downstairs and into a room that stopped me in my tracks.
Two stories of shelves stretched toward the ceiling, each lined with books that looked like they belonged in a museum. Ladders slid gracefully along polished wood rails, and the soft lighting gave the space a cozy, almost magical quality. For a moment, I just stood there, taking it all in.
Luke was sitting in a plush chair near the center of the room, casually flipping through a book. My heart quickened when I realized he was wearing my lavender hoodie from Muses—the one I’d shoved at him in a panic to help him escape that bachelorette party.
His gaze lifted, and he caught me staring. “Oh, this?” He tugged at the hoodie with a half-smile. “I’ve taken to wearing it around the house. It’s ridiculously comfortable.”
I felt a strange, inexplicable flutter in my chest. “Glad it’s getting some use.” I tried to sound casual.
He grinned and leaned back in his chair, gesturing around the room. “So, what do you think? Impressive, right?”
I glanced around again, my awe returning. “Am I in heaven?”
Luke chuckled. “Close enough. This is my favorite place. And believe it or not, all these books belong to Topher.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Topher? I didn’t know he reads.”
“Shocking, I know.” He pointed toward a spiral staircase that led to the second level. “You think this is impressive? Wait until you see upstairs. Rare manuscripts, first editions, and yes, there’s a Shakespeare First Folio up there.”
My jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”
“Not at all,” he said, his smile widening. “You’re about to see history.”
I was about to respond when my phone, now plugged into the charger, buzzed. “Excuse me,” I murmured, answering. “Hi, Aunt Delores.”
“Are you somewhere safe? Where are you?” Her tone was edged with worry.
“I’m fine,” I assured her. “I’m at Topher’s main house. It’s secure—bodyguards, whole-house generator, the works.”
That seemed to make her feel better. “A whole-house generator? We might have to invite ourselves over.”
I chuckled nervously, imagining the chaos of that. “How’s the gang?”
“Knee-deep in jambalaya,” she said before a baby’s cry interrupted her. “Gotta go. Glad you’re safe. Love you.”
As the call ended, I turned to Luke, settling into the chair across from him. The storm outside howled, bending trees and scattering leaves against the windows. I hugged a blanket tighter around me, grateful to be somewhere warm and safe.
Luke broke the silence. “Is this much rain normal here?”
I nodded. “We get storms like this every once in a while.” I shivered, and before I could say anything, Luke grabbed a plush blanket from a nearby couch and draped it over me.
Outside, the storm raged, trees bending in the wind while sheets of rain lashed against the windows.
“I’m glad we’re inside while all that’s happening out there,” he said.
“Could we maybe find a spot with fewer panoramic views of the apocalypse?”
“How about the home theater? It’s a nice room, and the seats are comfortable.”
I followed him, still clutching the blanket, and as soon as he opened the door, my jaw nearly hit the floor. “A nice room?” It was the kind of space you’d see in a luxury magazine.
I dropped into one of the dozen leather recliners, which practically hugged me back. “Is that a massage function I’m feeling?” I pressed the button and sank deeper. “And these”—I pointed at the cup holders—“do they seriously heat or chill your beverage on demand?”
Luke leaned casually against the wall, trying not to smile. “I did say it was nice, didn’t I?”
I bolted toward the snack corner. “No way. A legit popcorn machine?” My gaze darted over the array of candy. “Twizzlers. Milk Duds. And wait, is that a soda fountain?”
“You’re easily impressed.”
I grabbed a pack of Twizzlers with dramatic flair. “This isn’t just impressed.” I twisted one of the sweet strands in my fingers. “This is full-on awe.”
He chuckled and dropped into the chair next to mine, glancing sideways like he was working up to something. “Hey, um…” He cleared his throat. “About earlier. At Muses. I’m sorry. I could’ve handled that better.”
Something about the way he looked now, awkward and sincere, like a guy trying to fix something without fully knowing how, made it impossible to stay mad.
Honestly, I’d already forgiven him.
Not out loud, of course. That would’ve been too easy.
I sank back into my recliner, still fiddling with the Twizzler. “Honestly, if I had a dollar for every unsolicited comment or phone number scribbled on a receipt, I’d be rich enough to buy one of these theaters.”
Luke laughed. “Okay, but what’s the weirdest thing that’s ever happened with one of your customers at Muses?”
I grinned. “Oh, that’s easy. There was this regular who was completely convinced he was a time traveler.”
Luke coughed. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” I leaned in. “One night, he handed me a scroll. It was actual parchment, sealed with red wax like he’s auditioning for Game of Thrones. Inside was a love letter written in Shakespearean English.”
Luke’s eyes widened. “What did you do?”
“Well, I’m not a monster,” I said. “I wrote him a rejection letter in iambic pentameter.”
Luke grinned. “Did it start with ‘Shall I compare thee to a restraining order?’”
I laughed. “Something like that. Anyway, he said he’d return in seven days… and then he vanished.”
Luke raised an eyebrow. “Maybe he leapt to another century.”
“Exactly,” I said. “I hope he’s happy somewhere in 1623. Or maybe at the dive down the street.”
Luke shook his head, laughing. “You win. My weirdest work story doesn’t hold a candle to that.”
“Oh, come on,” I pressed. “You must have something.”
“Fine. When I was a teenager, I worked at this burger joint. There was a woman who’d always order a cheeseburger… but with no cheese.”
I blinked. “So… a hamburger?”
“Not in her world.” He grinned. “She insisted it was a cheeseburger, just without the cheese. If you called it a hamburger, she’d lose her mind.
One day, someone accidentally put cheese on her burger.
She flipped out like we’d committed a crime against humanity.
She waved it around, screaming, ‘Cheese. Cheese. It’s a scandal.
’ Then she hurled it at me like it was a grenade. ”
I was laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes. “What happened after that?”
“She came back the next week and ordered a veggie burger. Want to guess what she wanted on it?”
“No…”
“Cheese.” He threw up his hands in mock despair. “Full circle.”
I wiped my eyes, still giggling. “You need to write a memoir. Cheeseburgers: The Luke Fisher Origin Story.”
Luke smirked. “I think I’ll leave the writing to you.”
“Oh, yeah, because my glamorous life screams ‘bestseller,’” I teased.
His expression shifted from teasing to something more serious. “No. You should be writing full time. You’ve got the stories, the voice—it’s all there.”