"Maybe he doesn't consider your home his territory. You certainly don't act like you want him here."
"I don't. But don't try to convince me he's smart enough to squat here because of it." Vaughn laughed then, the sound taking her off guard.
"Would you believe that when Boris was at the shelter with other male dogs, he did lift his leg. Go figure. I guess there are
times he wants to be one of the boys." She shook her head, still shocked at the dog's actions.
"Locker room behavior," Vaughn said. "Now that I can relate to." He leaned down and patted Boris on the head, harder than Annabelle would have liked but she wasn't about to interrupt the unexpected, bonding moment.
His hand was large compared to her mutt's smaller head and the contradiction, added to Vaughn's attempt to make nice to the animal, showed a completely different side to the man. One she knew he hadn't intended to reveal. And one he wouldn't want her to see any more than she wanted to like him. But she did.
Without warning, he paused, his hand midair and glanced up at her. Her gaze locked with his. She wanted to thank him for the glimpse into his soul because that's exactly what she thought she'd just seen.
"Brandon!" a shrill voice said, shattering the beautiful morning silence and destroying their moment.
He rose to his feet, squaring his broad shoulders, stepping away from her and withdrawing. Annabelle felt as if she could see the walls being erected around him with each movement, and wondered what had caused such an abrupt change.
"Hello, Estelle," he said, his expression hard and unyielding. The ex-jock who took no crap from anyone had returned.
Annabelle narrowed her gaze, curious as to who this woman was, and why she had the ability to turn off anything soft inside Brandon Vaughn.
“That's no way to refer to your mother, especially in front of strangers," the woman said, answering Annabelle's silent question.
Annabelle stared at the immaculate woman in the pants suit. Her slacks were pressed, her heels high, and her sweater jacket screamed St. John's, a high-end designer. Annabelle ought to know, since she and Sophie often wore the suits to work. She'd never have pegged the elegantly dressed female as Vaughn's mother. She was too pristine looking, too uptight, too severe. At a glance it became obvious that mother and son had no more in common inside than out.
Annabelle wondered why Brandon would turn to ice around his mother and she was dying to find out. Since being orphaned, studying other people's families had become her favorite pastime. Watching and figuring out what kind of parental relationship people forged was practically an obsession.
When Vaughn remained silent, his mother stepped forward. "I see your manners haven't improved. Since you aren't you going to introduce me, I'll do it myself. I'm Estelle Vaughn, Brandon's mother," she said to Annabelle. "And who may I ask, are you?"
"She's an old college friend and she's visiting for a few days," Vaughn said, obviously resigned to the introduction. "Annabelle Jordan, meet my mother."
"It's a pleasure." Annabelle wrapped Boris's leash tighter around her hand to prevent him from jumping on the perfect-looking woman.
"I wish I'd known you were bringing company," Estelle chided her son as if he were a child.
But there was nothing childlike about Vaughn anymore and he bristled at his mother's tone. "Why? So you could bake a cake?"
Annabelle winced as did Estelle. Any mother would want to be spoken to with respect yet Vaughn had denied Estelle the basic courtesy. Annabelle couldn't understand. How many times had she wished her mother had lived so that they could bond, or fight and makeup again? Yet Vaughn had two living parents that he easily dismissed. Didn't the man understand the importance of family?
"Oh I know. You'd have thrown one of your infamous dinner parties," Vaughn continued. "Well you don't need to bother yourself. Annabelle's a guest in my home. I wasn't planning on bringing her into yours."
Feeling like a guilty eavesdropper, Annabelle took a step back. Neither mother nor son seemed to notice.
"Now that's a pity," Estelle said, her voice seeming to be earnest. "Any friend of yours would be more than welcome. But I'm sure you two already have plans of your own." This time innuendo suggested that more was going on between Annabelle and Vaughn than mere friendship.
Which led Annabelle to wonder if Vaughn often brought women-sports groupies in particular- home with him. She immediately discounted the idea, recalling his reaction to her red car, his unwillingness to let her call attention to them, and his need for peace and quiet. Vaughn might be all show when he was on display, but in his hometown, he was about privacy. If he wanted the lodge's perception turned around, that would have to change.
But at the moment, Annabelle was all about ending this uncomfortable discussion between mother and son.
CHAPTER FIVE
ANNABELLE GLANCED at Estelle Vaughn, the desire to make peace between the woman and her son overwhelming. "Oh we have lots of plans," Annabelle said, jumping into the conversation and deliberately taking over, "I’ve just taken a job as manager at a N.Y.C. hotel and Vaughn and I decided we could help each other out."
Vaughn shot her a warning look. A look that said don't mess in my life.
She glanced at him and shrugged in return. If he didn't seem inclined to make this meeting any easier, she did and part of her PR plan entailed more openness on his part.
"To what do I owe this visit?" Vaughn asked his mother.