Misconceive

By Barbara Meyers

An unplanned pregnancy; obviously her husband isn't the father since he's in a coma.  What's a mother to do?

There are many things Annie Langdon doesn't understand…

mis·con·ceive:

(mis´kën sēv´) to conceive wrongly;

Why does a man who professes to love her, dump her after she gives him everything?

A second chance with her first love turns into disaster, but she's not the only one affected by the fallout.

(mis´kën sēv´) interpret incorrectly;

What did she do to make her mother hate her?

By the time Annie discovers her mother isn't the woman she thought she was Annie is unknowingly following in her footsteps.

(mis´kën sēv´) Misunderstand.

When Annie creates a perfect life with a loving husband and children, why does it all fall apart? 

How could she not have known someone was there all along who would help her pick up the pieces?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barbara Meyers
• Release date: Jul 28, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516370306

Barbara Meyers

Barista by day, romance novelist by night:  When not writing fiction, Dr. Seuss-like poetry (for adults) or song lyrics, Barbara Meyers disguises herself behind a green apron and works part-time for a world-wide coffee company. Her novels are a mix of comedy, suspense and spice and often feature a displaced child. Barbara is still married to her first husband, has two fantastic children and one almost perfect dog.  Originally from Southwest Missouri, (she blames her roots in the Show Me state for her somewhat skeptical nature) she currently resides in Central Florida.

Book preview

Chapter One

(JARED)

Nineteen eighty-eight

Jared Donovan faced Annie Langdon across a large oak desk in his executive office at Donovan & Company.  When he smiled Annie relaxed.  Unlike the graying, pot-bellied men or matronly women who usually interviewed her, Jared Donovan was young and good-looking.  His smile made him even more attractive. 

While he looked over her application she imagined what it would be like to work for Jared Donovan, to see his smile every day, to bring him coffee. 

He was older than she was, certainly, but probably not by much Annie suspected, mentally placing him in his mid-twenties, five or six years her senior, no more.  She glanced to his left hand but saw no wedding ring.  Good.  If he was unattached, it would be even more fun.  Maybe he would flirt with her, tell her jokes around the water cooler, sit on the corner of her desk and ask about her day—

I said I see you don't have any office experience.

Annie shoved her fantasies about Jared Donovan aside.

Yes.  I mean no.  I mean, you're right.  I've never worked in an office before.  Annie knew her cheeks were now flaming with embarrassment.

Why are you applying for this job?  Jared asked, leaning back in his leather chair, steepling his fingers, the corners of his mouth barely holding back a grin, probably at her discomfiture.

I saw the ad in the newspaper.

Jared Donovan’s smile widened.   I meant why are you interested in working at Donovan & Company?  Do you know anything about our operation?

Annie licked dry lips.  This interview was not going well at all.

She had enrolled in an eight-week course at the local community college designed to prepare students for work in an office environment.  With her certificate of completion in hand Annie applied for every entry level clerical position advertised in the Lakemont Press.

Lakemont, Florida was no different than the rest of the country.  Job openings were quickly filled by candidates much more qualified than she.  No one in Lakemont was going to hire her to work in an office.  She did not particularly enjoy or excel at clerical work, but flipping hamburgers or waitressing held even less appeal.

The only good thing to come out of the classes at Lakemont Community College was her friendship with Donna Wheeler.  Funny and irreverent and about as suited to office work as Annie, Donna had hauled ass out of town once the class was over.  She’d headed for a small beachside community on Florida’s Gulf Coast.  Last Annie heard Donna was waiting tables at a hotel restaurant and loving it.  Consequently, Annie had no one to commiserate with about all the unproductive job interviews she’d been on.

No, Mr. Donovan, I don't know anything about your company.  I only wanted a job.  I can see I'm not what you're looking for. I won't take up any more of your time.

She made it to the door before his voice stopped her.  Excuse me, Miss Langdon?

Annie turned back to him.

I think you're exactly what I'm looking for.  If you want the job.

Annie smiled in sheer exhilaration.  Are you sure?  Don't you want someone with more experience?  She took a hesitant step toward him.

Chuckling, Jared Donovan rose from his seat and came toward her.  In this case, Miss Langdon, I think lack of experience is exactly what I'm looking for.

***

Donovan & Company? Her mother sniffed over dinner that evening.  The Donovans are high society, hoity-toities from what I read in the paper.  Always at this ball or that charitable function.  Bluebloods, for sure.  Not in your league at all.  I can't imagine why you'd want to work there. 

Annie said nothing.  There was no point.  For as long as she could remember, nothing she did was right in the eyes of her mother.  If she painted a picture at age four, Helen Langdon wanted to know why Annie painted the house blue instead of yellow.  At twelve, when Annie placed third in the school spelling bee, the question was why hadn't she come in first?  Because I didn't know how to spell assassin, Annie tried to explain.  But her mother already knew that.  At sixteen, she'd been voted class secretary, but not president.  For years the message from her mother had been clear.  Annie was not good enough, pretty enough, smart enough.  She would never amount to anything.  Her new job, though entry level to be sure, started at a higher rate of pay than any of the others she had applied for and was with a growing, successful company with a proven track record.  But in Helen Langdon's eyes Annie had done something wrong.

She glanced to her father for support.  His blue eyes, exactly the same shade as hers, twinkled affectionately.  It's a job, Helen.  Annie will be working for the Donovans, not marrying into the family, for Pete's sake.

Harumphh!  Helen picked up her plate and moved to the kitchen counter, scraping the contents into the sink.  From the set of her shoulders, the clatter of the plate when she set it down, the force of the water when she turned it on, it was easy to see she did not take her husband's championing of their daughter lightly.

Annie glanced at her father, who merely shrugged his broad shoulders in a here-we-go-again gesture.  She gave him a tiny smile, reaching for his hand, squeezing it under the table.  Her dad was always on her side.  He thought she could do no wrong, was thrilled with her achievements, no matter how insignificant they might be.  It should be enough, Annie told herself. Yet she yearned for her mother's approval.

By the end of her first day Annie decided she liked her job.  For one thing, typing was at a minimum, fortunately for her, as she was a barely competent typist.  She got the hang of the multi-line phone system, opened and sorted mail, double checked invoices for accuracy before entering them in the computer, and filed the never-ending stream of paperwork which made its way to her desk.

She planned to do her best to get along with the three other women who worked in the office as well.

Prudence Whittaker, the office manager, was an easygoing woman of about fifty, who trained Annie in her various duties.  Prudence had been doing the majority of Annie's work in addition to her own for the past two weeks and was happy to have the position filled. 

Sally Manz, a tall, gray-haired lady of indeterminate age, buried her nose in the account books and merely nodded at Annie when their paths crossed. 

Annie didn't think she imagined the glare of disapproval Louise Snell, the executive secretary, gave her when they met.  Nor did it escape Annie’s notice that she was the youngest employee in the office by at least twenty-five years. 

As if in answer to her fantasies, Jared Donovan stopped at her desk frequently her first week on the job, chatting with her about inconsequential subjects.  His friendly demeanor stopped just shy of flirtatious.

Annie looked forward to those brief visits from Jared.  She took extra care with her appearance, dabbing perfume behind her ears, making sure her outfit was perfect.  A thrill ran through her each morning when she saw him.  She lived for those few minutes of the day when he perched on the corner of her desk, one leg swinging back and forth as he smiled at her and gave her his undivided attention.

Oblivious to Louise Snell’s raised eyebrows and the knowing looks which passed between her and Sally, Annie ate up the attention Jared showered on her.  Prudence merely shook her head sadly.

Summer was the slowest time of year for Donovan & Company as it was for many Florida businesses.  Jared's parents were abroad, combining a vacation with a buying trip for the string of upscale gift shops which were a large part of the operation.  They were not scheduled to return until mid-October.

On Friday, Jared couched an invitation in the most business-like of tones, which made it sound work-related rather than a date.  I have to go to one the clubs near Orlando tomorrow to check on some remodeling work.  I don't suppose you'd care to ride along?  It will give you a chance to see more of the business firsthand.

The way he said it, Annie wasn't sure if she was being invited as an employee, a date, or merely a companion along for the nearly two-hour ride to Orlando.  She was also too wowed by the prospect of being alone with Jared one-on-one for the day to ask.  In the week she had been with Donovan & Company, she had learned the business was diversified and fairly wide spread over central Florida.  Gift and retail clothing shops, a couple of nightclubs and restaurants, as well as interests in several commercial real estate developments and shopping malls.

It didn't take her long to give him her answer.  I'd like that, Mr. Donovan. 

He winced.  Annie, outside the office, you can call me Jared, okay?  By the time I'm my father's age I may be able to live with being called 'Mr. Donovan', but not right now.

Annie nodded shyly. 

They agreed to meet in the office parking lot at ten the following morning.

Is he paying you to go with him?  Is this part of your job?  Her mother asked suspiciously the next morning.

Annie cringed.  I don't know.  I didn't ask him.

Uh-huh.  Well, maybe you should call him right now and find out if this is all work and no play, or the other way around.

I'll do no such thing.  My God, Mother, how embarrassing.

Her mother made a derisive sound.  You'll be sorry if you find out he's got other ideas in mind besides showing you part of his business.  Who knows what he may end up showing you?  Those people—

You don't even know him!  Annie cried.  Her mother's comments made her question Jared’s intentions, though she'd never admit it.  He's a gentleman, Annie added lamely.

I'm sure he is, Helen acquiesced smugly.  I'm sure he's very much a gentleman when it suits him.  What I'd like to know is why he's sniffing around the likes of you?

Annie hadn't finished putting on her makeup or jewelry.  She walked out without it.  Why does she have to ruin everything for me?  Annie had asked herself that a hundred times.  Her mother hated her, but Annie had never been able to figure out why.  What had she done, except be born?  Except be a child?  Yet her mother never passed up a chance to criticize and belittle her.

Annie chewed her bottom lip, still puzzled over her mother’s attitude when she parked her used compact next to Jared's black BMW.  He leaned against its polished hood, arms crossed over his chest, looking casual and moneyed in a white polo shirt and charcoal gray slacks.

Annie sensed the inadequacy of her own outfit, which surely hadn't cost a tenth of his.  The halter sundress suited her however, the bright blue nearly matching her eyes, tiny sprigs of white flowers softening the effect.  White sandals wrapped around her feet, encasing toes she had painstakingly pedicured last night, the nails now a deep shade of pink.

My God, you look great! Jared told her as she came toward

him.

I forgot my earrings.  It was the first thing she thought of, and the words were out of her mouth before she could catch them.

Jared laughed.  You don't need them, Annie.  You're perfect just the way you are.

He sounded so sincere, Annie found herself almost believing

Him. When Jared's gaze flickered over her, her heart constricted in her chest, and all she could do was stare at him.

Shall we go?  he asked formally as he opened the door for her.

The day was sunny, bright and hot, but it was cool and comfortable in Jared's luxurious sports car.  They found they liked the same music, both liked to sing, though neither could carry a tune. 

The inspection of the remodeling didn't take long.  Annie picked her way through the construction area carefully, trailing behind Jared and the club manager as they discussed the work still to be completed.

How about some lunch?  Jared asked when they returned to the car.  There's a great little place not too far from here, we can get a bite before we start back.

That sounds good.  Annie was starving, since she hadn't taken the time to eat breakfast.

The 'great little place' turned out to be a small bistro in an exclusive shopping center filled with tiny boutiques displaying unique merchandise at outrageous prices.

The well-dressed patrons, the fine linen tablecloths and napkins, the excessive number of utensils before her and fresh flowers on each table intimidated Annie.  She tried to relax, terrified of committing some breach of etiquette of which she was not even aware. 

She perused the unfamiliar entrees listed as well as descriptions of the preparation for each.  The prices for what appeared to be nothing more than spinach salad or a club sandwich were exorbitant.

From the other side of the small table Jared covertly studied Annie.  Her delicate brows knit in puzzlement as she studied the menu, obviously unfamiliar with many of the dishes listed.

The other tables were taken up mostly by older well-dressed women in packs of twos or fours, out for a day of mindless, unnecessary shopping and lunch before dinner at their clubs later.  A couple of them eyed Jared with appreciation, before their gazes flickered to Annie.  Their mild distaste, barely disguised, could have resulted from most anything from her obvious youth or the quality of her dress.  Jared picked up on it and was secretly amused at their reaction, though Annie was oblivious to it.  Like a single daisy thrust among carefully tended orchids, she blossomed, undeterred by her surroundings.

Her gaze met his across the tops of their menus.  He had been watching her intently, his expression indecipherable.  Sometimes it was just easier to be honest.  If Jared Donovan thought her a fool, perhaps it was better to know now.  There weren’t any places like this in Walnut Gove, she told him.  I’m not sure what I should order.

The waiter approached and inquired whether they were ready to order or had any questions about the menu.

Annie half raised her hand as if she were in class.  I do, she told the waiter seriously.  First of all, what’s lemongrass soup?  It’s not lemon mixed with grass, is it?

The waiter looked appalled at the very idea.  No, madam, certainly not.  Lemongrass is an herb native to India.  It’s used as a seasoning in a light cream-based soup which you see on our menu today.

Hmm.  Okay, got it.  Annie studied her menu some more.  This sandwich here, she pointed to the menu so the waiter could see.

The smoked turkey and bacon on ciabatta with the gorgonzola? he inquired politely.

Annie smiled at him.  If you say so.  But it’s basically a club sandwich, right?

Basically, yes, but with a bistro twist, of course.

Annie caught Jared’s eye.  Of course.  I’ll try it.  And the lemongrass soup.  And a Coke, if you have it.

Of course, madam.

He turned to Jared who made short work of ordering some sort of pasta dish and a glass of wine to go with it.

Very good, sir.  The waiter whisked away the menus and took himself off. 

Once he was gone, Jared leaned across the table.  I love this place, he whispered conspiratorially.  The waiters are almost as snobbish as the clientele.  He glanced at the table of women next to them meaningfully.

Annie grinned. She might enjoy lunch after all.

Chapter Two

Once Annie overcame her terror of making a fool of herself in front of Jared, she relaxed and let herself enjoy his company.  Trying not to be obvious about it she followed his lead.  When he picked up his napkin she picked up hers, folding it neatly across her lap.  If he sipped from his water glass, she did as well.  From somewhere, a high school home economics class, maybe, she vaguely recalled hearing that utensils, especially forks, were laid out in order of their expected use.  Appetizer, salad, main course. 

She soon forgot about the forks since she had no need of one.  The soup came with its own rounded spoon and she had ordered a sandwich.

Jared put her at ease, keeping the conversation flowing, regaling her with stories of his antics while in college, adding funny anecdotes about his parents' reactions to some of the scrapes he'd gotten himself into.

Annie began to get a clearer picture of Jared's background, not only from what he said, but from what he didn't.  Although she knew the senior Donovans had started their business together, it sounded as though Lyle Donovan was merely a figurehead, while his wife Fiona was the real power behind the company.  The same was apparently true at home, as Jared's comments regarding discipline or reprimands for his behavior were almost always prefaced with, My mother...  His father seemed to have faded into the woodwork when any significant decision needed to be made either in regard to the business or his son.

After lunch they took a leisurely stroll through the shops, while Annie inwardly gasped at the prices.  Quality did not come cheap.  She lingered over a display of silver jewelry, gazing at a pair of earrings she would love to own, wondering what it would be like to wander into a shop such as this and buy whatever she wanted regardless of the price.  Reluctantly, she moved away.  Those earrings would set her back a week's salary.

Several minutes later as they passed a sweet shop, Jared insisted she have some ice cream.  No sooner had they exited the store, ice cream in hand, than he excused himself to find the rest room.  Annie made herself comfortable on a nearby bench to wait for him, spooning ice cream she didn't particularly want into her mouth.

He returned shortly, his mood light as they returned to the car.    Annie was secretly pleased with herself, thinking she had come through the day with flying colors, when she hadn't any idea what to expect at the start.  She had survived the drive and lunch, conversing with Jared on a wide variety of subjects without letting on that she had, on more than one occasion, little more than surface knowledge of the topic.  He seemed relaxed, content to be in her company, which she thought was a good sign.  She hadn’t dated since moving from the Midwest to Lakemont, and not much more in high school.  She hoped her lack of experience didn't show.

I suppose you're sick of my company, by now, Jared said casually as they approached the exit to Lakemont.

No, I'm not, Annie replied immediately.

I was thinking of going to a movie later.  You wouldn't want to go with me, would you? 

This time, Annie decided it wouldn't be a bad idea to determine exactly where they stood with each other.  Do you mean like a date?

Jared smiled, glancing over at her as he changed lanes.  Yes, I think that's what they call it.

Annie wasn't sure if his reply was meant to put her in her place for asking such a silly question or not.  Still, her mother's words rang in her ears.  Do you think that's a good idea?  I mean because I work for you?

Jared shrugged.  I don't see why it should make a difference as long as we don't carry it into the office.  It's only a movie, after all.

I know.  I just—

"Look, if it makes