Read Somebody Like You for Free Online Page B

head.
    The irritation must have shown on her face. Dottie laughed and winked, too perceptive by half.
    Annelise bit the inside of her cheek and answered, “The most important? Freedom to be me. When you’re at a place like the Ritz, there are expectations. Here, no one expects anything from me, except maybe a hard day’s work for my pay. And I like that. The people here are friendly and unassuming. And, the Ritz doesn’t come with your cookies.”
    Dottie patted her hand. “Are you running from someone, dear, or from yourself?”
    Annelise pulled her hand away. Cash had asked basically the same question. She had to be careful because, despite the fact she’d initially started this trip for her grandfather, she’d soon realized she was on a quest for herself, too. To discover if people liked her, Annelise Montjoy, for herself, or if it was simply her money and what she could do for them that attracted them to her. And wasn’t that sad?
    She couldn’t screw it up by revealing her true identity—not even to Dottie. If she did, she’d never have a chance at an untainted relationship with the townspeople—their view of her would be colored by preconceived notions about her, about her life, and about her family. Her money.
    Despite her sweet grandmotherly appearance, Dottie was one very intuitive lady, and Annelise didn’t want her anywhere near the truth.
    “I…I’m not running from anyone, Dottie. I just…I wanted to get away from—” She broke off a piece of her cookie and crumbled it. “I was in a dead-end job.”
    That was true enough, she supposed. She was stuck in the family business. Like it or not, at some point in the future, she’d be expected to pick up the reins. No options. She felt almost claustrophobic at times.
    She met Dottie’s eyes. “I have something I need to do. And a nice bonus has been finding a place where I can try something totally different while I’m doing it.”
    Her landlady studied her a moment. “Well, if I’m not missing my mark, I’d say you succeeded.”
    “And then some,” she said. Time to move this discussion away from her. “About the paint.” She ran a hand up and down her milk glass. “I don’t want white.”
    “Okay.”
    “I mean, I love color.”
    “Good for you.” Dottie reached behind her for a small plate on the counter. “Try one of these.”
    The pale pink dish held more cookies, but they weren’t the chocolate chip variety.
    “Oh, but I already had—”
    “One more won’t hurt you. You’re skinny as a rail. Besides, you’re my guinea pig. This is a new recipe, and before I run them over to Vonda for the bazaar, I need a second opinion. Go ahead.” She nudged the plate closer to her. “See if they taste okay.”
    Annelise reached for one, bit into it, and sighed. “Dottie, any time you need a guinea pig, I’m your girl.” Cinnamon mixed with coconut and vanilla all wrapped up in a shortbread texture. Pure ambrosia.
    She waved the half-eaten cookie. “If you don’t like my color choices or if they’ll make the apartment hard to rent when I leave, I can always redo them.”
    Dottie looked up from the sink where she’d started drawing dishwater. “Leave? Land sakes, I hope that won’t be for a long time to come.”
    “Me, too.” And Annelise realized how much she meant that. Right now, she was feeling slightly, okay, a lot, off-center, but she’d get her feet under her. She’d secretly check on the leads Ron found, then find a way to talk her great-aunt into being tested—if she was still alive or ever existed. Maybe after that, she could enjoy some time simply being Annelise. Steal a little time to live life her way, by her rules where money wasn’t the be-all, end-all. And she’d do it privately, rather than under a microscope.
    Dottie nodded. “If you look around, you’ll see I don’t cotton much for white.”
    Annelise smiled. “I noticed. But, ah, pink’s not really my thing, either.”
    “That’s okay. It’d be