When Annie walked into the kitchen behind Adam, Cliff, and Jack, she was surprised to find Layla sitting at the breakfast nook, plate already made. Kenzie had splayed out a sandwich bar on the kitchen island with different types of breads, lunchmeats, cheeses, and condiments next to a bowl of fresh, leafy lettuce. Dawson joined them after a few minutes, scrubbing his hands of the dirt that came with his job as everyone made their own lunch.
Annie was thankfully able to enjoy the meal and the company, even with her lingering embarrassment and Cliff-induced nerves. She always enjoyed hearing about work at the orchard, the upcoming wedding, and how the gym was coming along. Still, when she'd finished eating and excused herself for the bathroom, she realized she might not've been hiding her frustrations as well as she thought--when she left the bathroom, Layla was waiting for her in the hall.
"Are you okay?" Layla asked, voice light with concern. "You barely looked up from your plate the whole time we were eating."
"Yeah, I just..." Annie shrugged as she trailed off, hesitating to reveal the male cause of her even shyer than usual behavior. But now was as good a time as any, right? She'd share her big secret and maybe get some good advice on how to get over a guy she barely even knew.
Dropping her voice, she led Layla further away from the kitchen door. "Well, actually, I wanted to talk to you."
Layla's eyebrows rose. "Really? What's up?"
"There's something I have to get off my chest. But I need it to just be between us. You couldn't tell Kenzie, or Dawson, so I understand if you wouldn't want me to tell you."
Layla's brow furrowed with confusion, but after a second she went wide-eyed. "Oh! Is it about Jack?"
"Wh--No! No. And I can't tell Jack, either."
"And it's not...?" Layla didn't have to finish the question. It was obvious she expected Annie to confess feelings for one of the McAden's, but it wasn't the one she was thinking of. Annie stepped aside and led Layla into the empty dining room, feeling safer behind closed doors rather than out in the open hall.
She dropped her voice even lower, even though she could still hear the loud, distracted chatter from the kitchen next door. "It's about... Cliff."
Layla leaned against one of the dining chairs, studying Annie as if waiting for more. Finally, she prodded, "What about him?"
Annie felt the blush rush to her cheeks. She figured Layla would've gotten the insinuation, given what she just thought Annie had been about to confess. Instead of saying anything, Annie just nodded her head a bit, shrugged, and hoped Layla understood what the look on her face meant.
By the way her expression changed, it was pretty obvious she did. "Oh! You mean...?"
Again, Annie nodded. "I know I hardly know him--I keep telling myself that, but it doesn't seem to help. I'm just so... infatuated with him. I can hardly think straight these past few days."
Layla grinned, letting out a quiet laugh of pure joy. "Well that's great! Probably mildly annoying for you, but great. You should go for it."
"Go for it?" Annie repeated the words with an inkling of hopelessness. "Layla, I don't even know the first thing about going for it. And even if I did, I couldn't. I mean, he's completely out of my league. And to top it off, I just become a complete mess around him."
"You're exaggerating." Layla crossed her arms. "I've seen you around him. You act fine--maybe a little quieter, now that I think back on it--but nothing crazy."
"You didn't see me an hour ago when I almost tripped and fell into a box of lightbulbs right in front of him." Annie sighed, resting against the wall behind her. Thinking back on what happened, she wished she could sink right into the wallpaper and disappear. "It was humiliating. He's just so... so beautiful, and every time he's around I get so flustered."
Layla stepped forward to reach out and give a comforting rub to Annie's shoulder. "I doubt it was that bad."
"Whatever you're thinking, I promise it was worse." She let herself laugh, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter, anyway. I mean, he's lightyears out of my league. He's handsome and intriguing and unique, and I'm..." Absolutely none of those things. Well, unique looking maybe, but not in any of the ways she wished. "I'm Charlotte Lucas."
Layla paused, crossing her arms and tilting her head as if trying to recall the name. "Who?"
Annie shook her head, smiling softly. "Never mind. You know what I mean."
"References I don't understand aside, you've got to stop thinking that way. He is not out of your league."
"Layla. It's a miracle my glasses don't fog up every time he walks in the room. He's the most handsome man I've ever seen in real life."
Layla rolled her eyes. "There's billions of them out there. I'm sure you'd be able to rectify that."
Annie laughed, hiding her face in her hands and likely smudging her lenses in the process. "It's awful. And I know I'm overreacting. But I feel better getting it off my chest."
"So, you'll ask him out, then?"
The laugh that escaped Annie next was short and louder than she meant it to be. She cast a careful glance at the door to the kitchen before continuing in a whispered shout. "No!"
"Even knowing that you're wrong about him being out of your league, you won't ask him out?"
"I said I was overreacting, not that I was wrong." And God, just the thought of asking anyone out made fear run rampant through her blood.
"Okay," Layla let the word out in a contemplative breath. "Say you're right, then, even though I totally disagree. Say he is out of your league, and he couldn't possibly like you back. If that's the case, then you have no reason to be shy around him. You've got nothing to lose. So just be yourself, and if he doesn't like it, that's his problem."
"But--"
Layla held up a hand. "I'm not saying you have to ask him out. I'm not saying you even have to flirt with the man. Just... be open. Be friendly."
Annie toyed with the braid that rested on her shoulder, thinking it over. Maybe Layla was right--there was no need to be nervous when there was nothing on the line. "I guess that does make sense."
"Perfect sense. And," Layla pointed a finger as she thought of another reason, "if you two become friends, you might end up losing your feelings anyway. Lust like this has a tendency to fade once you get to know someone."
Trying not to blush at the blunt mention of her self-admitted lust, Annie only nodded. She knew Layla was likely right, but it was hard to imagine looking at Cliff and not having her heart nearly beat out of her chest.
"I'll try it," Annie promised both Layla and herself. She'd use the newfound confidence that she'd been developing since she'd arrived in Red View, and just be herself. She wouldn't shy away around him--maybe she'd even manage another conversation like they'd had on the doorstep.
And if she was lucky, Layla would be right. The more she got to know Cliff, the less she would like him. Eventually the feelings would fade altogether, and she'd only be left with their amusing memory.
Cliff offered to gather up the dishes at the end of lunch, and tried not to think about how his brother had been the one to catch Annie.
In his defense, he'd reached out--he just hadn't been quick enough. So she'd ended up in Jack's arms, saved by his fast thinking. What stung worse was that it had been Cliff's fault in the first place. He'd come up behind her like that, and had clearly caught her off guard, scared her when she turned around. Who wouldn't be surprised to see his face when they weren't prepared to?
For one glorious second, they'd bumped against each other. He figured that was likely as close as they were ever going to get.
After a trip to the sink he reminded himself again that he was trying not to think about it. He was also trying--and failing miserably--not to think of Annie, period. Unfortunately picking up dirty plates, knives, and skirting around Kenzie, who was putting away the food she'd laid out, wasn't very distracting.
Certain habits he'd had his whole life up until moving to Amsterdam, and dish duty at the manor was one of them. Falling right back into his old routine, he moved for the door to the dining room once he'd collected all the dishes in the kitchen, just to check if any had been left behind throughout the day. Even as his family chattered on, he heard the voices behind the door that he'd nearly opened.
"You didn't see me an hour ago when I almost tripped and fell into a box of lightbulbs right in front of him." Annie's soft voice was muffled, but clear enough. "It was humiliating. He's just so... so beautiful, and every time he's around I get so flustered."
Cliff's heart sunk to his stomach as he processed the words and who they must be about. Jack.
Layla's voice came next. "I doubt it was that bad."
"Whatever you're thinking, I promise it was worse." There was a sad laugh that only added to the guilt he felt for scaring her. "It doesn't matter, anyway. I mean, he's lightyears out of my league."
At the twist that gave his gut, he decided he'd heard enough and moved away from the door to sit absent-mindedly at the island. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice his sudden choice to not check the dining room.
So it was true, then--Annie did have feelings for Jack. She thought Jack was beautiful. Out of her league. Two things Cliff would never be, no matter if he tried or not.
And of course she felt the way she did. Why shouldn't she? His brother was brilliant, successful, and seemed to open up to her in a way he didn't often do with people.
And as much as he tried not to, Cliff couldn't help but wonder: if things had just turned out differently, could it have been him in Jack's position? Hell, they shared the same genes. And Cliff had been one mistake away from undeniably impressive success. If he hadn't screwed it up, if he hadn't ended up so marred...
It didn't matter, and there was no point in thinking about it--he was who he was, and that was that. There was now way to change the mistakes he'd made. And there was no way to change how Annie felt about his brother.
All this meant was that falling for Annie was the last thing he should do. It was a bad idea already, but if her and Jack became involved, it would only make it even worse.
He'd just have to stay away from her. They'd no doubt cross paths with the wedding and her job, but he'd do what he could to keep his distance from now on.
When Annie returned to the kitchen--from the main door, and without Layla--he tried his best not to look at her and talk himself out of his decision.
Adam stood from his seat at the breakfast nook. "You guys ready to get back to work?"
"I can't," Cliff blurted before he could change his mind. He kept his eyes on his phone, only glancing up once to meet Adam's gaze. "Sorry. I'm still supposed to go see Mom and Dad today, and I just got an email from one of my clients. They want this song by tomorrow night, and I still have a lot to do."
"Oh." Annie's voice made him look up against his own will. She smiled at him, shrugging. "Well, don't worry about it. That's important--I'm sure we can manage."
"Yeah, no big deal," Adam agreed.
"I can help," Dawson offered. "I got a lot done this morning. The guys have everything under control for the day."
"Sweet." Adam patted Dawson's shoulder in thanks and nodded his head towards the door. "I'm ready if you guys are."
Dawson and Annie stood up to leave, but Annie paused by the island as the two men left. With a smile as soft as her voice, she told him, "Good luck with your song."
She lingered only long enough for him to manage a stiff, "Thank you." What would she think if she knew the reason he wasn't helping out was her? That he was trying anything he could think of to keep his distance and keep his mind off of her?
He tried to look busy on his phone as everyone left the room--everyone but Kenzie, who came over and rested her elbows on the island. Even from the corner of his eye, he could tell she was staring at him, studying.
"You okay?"
He nodded, unsurprised she could tell something was off. Honestly, he was surprised she hadn't figured him out on everything already. Over the years he must've become a good liar--it was a realization that only made his dislike for himself even stronger. "Yeah, just... you know. Work stuff."
"I wanted to ask if you scheduled a haircut yet. Dawson's getting his done next week, so I figured he could set you guys up at the same time, if you wanted."
"Oh." Now that caught him off guard. He'd thought a little bit about the haircut, sure, but hadn't been planning to go to town--he figured he'd just do it himself. The idea of walking in the old barber shop, even with his brother by his side... it turned his stomach just thinking about it. "Well, I'm used to cutting it myself."
His sister gave him a look he knew well--one that silently voiced her uneasiness at the idea. "You're not exactly a hairdresser, Cliff."
He just shrugged, wishing he'd escaped the kitchen when he had the chance. "I've had enough practice to manage."
She sighed, reaching out to analyze the locks that had escaped the hair-tie. "I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, but it's pretty uneven. Do you even have a pair of hair scissors?"
"What do you think, I've been using kitchen scissors on it?" The joke came out as more of a snap than he meant it to.
"Well, I wouldn't have had a problem believing it."
"What is the big deal, Kenz?" He set his phone down with a thud. "It's not as if it's the first thing people notice about me."
"I just think you'd feel better if you got it fixed up. It'd look nicer for the wedding, the pictures--"
He had to laugh at that. "Right, the pictures. Well I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but I'm not gonna look nice in the goddamn things either way. I'll just sit them out, okay? There, problem solved. Save the re-toucher a lot of fucking work."
"Cliff." Her tone was stern, expression caught somewhere between sympathy and offense.
He sighed, shifting in his seat. He hadn't meant to swear at her. "Sorry. I just..." He shrugged as he trailed off with a shake of his head, and she reached out to rub his hunched-over shoulders.
"I haven't taken any pictures since..." He gestured to his face. "And your pictures should be nice. I mean Jesus, Kenzie, they're your wedding pictures. I don't want to ruin them."
"Cliff!" This time her voice was laced with disbelief, and full of emotion. "How can you even say that? I was scared my wedding pictures would be ruined because you wouldn't show up and be in them."
He looked up at her, feeling like a little kid. "I thought maybe you'd think that, and then see me and change your mind."
"I'm trying my best not to be offended by that." She wiped her eyes, which were filled with tears that threatened to spill over. "I didn't know you were that bothered by your scars, but you better believe me when I tell you they don't bother me. Not at all. I'd want you in the photos just as much if they were gone, or if they were a hundred times deeper."
"And if it means that much to you, then I want to be in them." He meant that more than anything. If it would make Kenzie happy, he'd stand there in a tux and pose for a thousand photos.
He let her pull him into a warm hug that he hadn't realized he needed. If a simple haircut would make her happy, then he should do that, too. But it was one thing to be at the orchard surrounded by a small group of Kenzie and Marshall's family and friends on a day where all the focus would be on them. It was another thing entirely to venture into Red View, where anyone and everyone would be able to see him and goggle at his appearance.
Unless he wanted to face a task he hadn't managed to face in years, he'd just have to figure something out.