Catching Sam: Book 2 of 5: The MacDonald Brothers by Emily Matthews (free novels .TXT) 📕

his office, he texted her to see if she needed anything. Was she sick because of the pregnancy? While he waited for her to respond, he tried to eavesdrop on Tracey and Phil, who were talking quietly outside his office. He wondered if Phil was finally making his move. He hadn’t had a chance to speak with Tracey yet like he promised he would, but maybe Phil was taking the bull by the horns and just going for it anyway.

Sam started to second-guess the appropriateness of dating someone at work. Maybe Phil was right, and Sam was an idiot. Both for suggesting Phil pursue Tracey and for going for it with Annie. Well, a little late now.

Annie finally answered his text with a curt “No thanks” about fifteen minutes later. That put him in a bad mood, which Phil made worse once he finally came into Sam’s office. He piled on with more bad news.

“I talked with Joseph again. He double- and triple-checked and swears that Annie’s divorce is not on file anywhere, which means she is still married. I’m sorry, man,” Phil said somberly.

“From what I can tell, she filed the papers, but her husband wouldn’t sign them.” Sam didn’t mention how he knew that. “I wonder how you divorce someone who isn’t willing,” he speculated.

Since finding the unsigned papers, he had a feeling Phil would eventually come to him with this news. Still, having his suspicions confirmed sucked. He’d been willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, but that turned out to be a mistake. He mulled over telling Phil about what he’d seen at Annie’s but decided to change the subject instead.

“So, you finally ask Tracey out? Sorry I haven’t had a chance to talk to her about you yet.”

“Oh, no worries. You don’t need to talk to her.”

“Did you ask her out?” Sam pressed.

“I thought we weren’t talking about stuff like that,” Phil said cryptically as he stood to go.

What the fuck? Was everyone hiding something from him? If Phil didn’t want to tell him about Tracey, fine. But he’d be damned if he was going to play stupid games with Annie. They were grown-ass adults and could either work out their problems or not, but he wasn’t going to sit around and second-guess everything any longer.

He walked out to where Tracey was sitting, typing quietly. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course,” she replied. “What do you need?”

“First thing tomorrow, can you call Ms. O’Neill, the graphic designer for the Denali project, and set up a meeting? Preferably tomorrow, maybe in the afternoon?”

Tracey jotted down a note, said it wouldn’t be a problem, and that she’d let him know the time as soon as she set it up. He thanked her and headed back to his office.

This bullshit stopped now. He’d confront Annie about still being married and about the crib and, depending on what she said, he’d decide whether the relationship was worth continuing.

He felt like he’d gotten to know her so well in the last month, and it seemed like they had something special. Something he hadn’t felt with any other woman. He didn’t want to give up on it, but he had to know she wasn’t out to screw him in some way.

Lying about being divorced was bad, but who would want to tell someone they’d just started dating that they were still married? Obviously, she wanted a divorce, but that wasn’t the same as being divorced. He’d give her a chance to come clean on that and let her know that he didn’t tolerate lying.

But the crib. That was the real mystery. Who was Avery? Was Annie pregnant? And, if so, with whose baby? And why was she suddenly avoiding him? That didn’t make any sense if she was about to drop a baby daddy announcement on him. The whole thing was confusing the hell out of him.

His baby brother’s bachelor party was this weekend. He was leaving for New York on Friday and wanted all this shit dealt with before then.

Tomorrow. He would find out tomorrow. He hadn’t gotten where he was by pussyfooting around. He’d get the facts and make some decisions. That’s what he did. Feeling better about it, he packed up his stuff and headed out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Wayne had finally had a small streak of luck. After finding out what Annie drove, it only took him a few tries to catch her coming out of the parking garage. He discreetly followed her to a gated neighborhood several miles from the building. He couldn’t get through the gate on the first day, so the second day he’d parked his car nearby and walked to the neighborhood.

As a pedestrian, he entered easily and was wandering around, pretending to be some schmuck out for a walk when she came through the next day. He watched her take a left and pull into a driveway at the end of a cul-de-sac. Easy peasy. Now he knew where she lived.

The next bit of luck came the very next day while he was doing his schmuck walking routine around her neighborhood. First off, he noticed that no one did anything about cars that piggybacked through the gate. If he ever wanted to drive to her house, he could easily follow someone else into the neighborhood.

As if that bit of information weren’t good enough, he about shit his pants when he watched Sam MacDonald pull a sleek BMW into her driveway. Wayne used his cheap-ass phone to snap a few pictures of Sam walking to the doorstep.

The photos wouldn’t be the highest quality. In fact, from where Wayne was standing, Sam would most likely be indistinguishable, but hopefully, the mere threat of their existence would be enough to get what he wanted.

When Annie left alone a little while later, he decided to follow her rather than watch the house. That turned out to be a waste of time. All she did was drive to the grocery store, sit in her car,