Husband Hunters Read Online Free Page A

kitchen bench, she knew she was in for a hard night.
    He never hit her, he just got angry. Very angry. His growls would make the blood run cold in her veins.
    It was her first big account that pushed him over the edge.
    Annabel was flipping through the Sunday paper when she saw an article about a family-owned chain of bakeries called Rustica that was rumoured to be developing a line of supermarket products. The idea for the brand strategy came to her immediately. She called Rustica and asked to meet with them. The only slot they had available was Friday afternoon. It didn’t give her much time, but she agreed. Then she called her staff in for an emergency meeting. Her team was made up of a graduate named Ant, who wore braces and bow ties with precision, and the pragmatic Kathy, who had jumped ship from a fashion group that had given her an eating disorder.
    They planned and drafted for hours. They were still at it at midnight.
    ‘Go home,’ Annabel told them, grateful to have found such dedicated souls. She worked for another two hours before heading off for a catnap and a shower. She returned at 6am with a fully-loaded carry tray from Esspressino.
    By Wednesday night it began to look as though the pitch was coming together.
    At 8.30pm Hunter called and asked if she would be free for a late-night supper at Longrain. He sounded sincere when he apologised for shouting at her earlier about her work hours.
    ‘Okay. That’s a nice idea,’ Annabel said, thinking: ‘I have been working late a lot. Perhaps if we made more time for each other, things will go back to the way they used to be.’
    She slid her notes into her Prada bag. For the first time in a long while she was feeling good. But the traffic was surprisingly heavy for late on a Wednesday. ‘Perhaps try looping around Sussex Street,’ she tapped on the plastic protection shield that encased her taxi driver.
    ‘But then we will have to backtrack.’
    ‘Please, can we try? I’m going to be late.’
    He changed lanes to do a U-turn. The light turned red. Annabel clenched her jaw.
    ‘Traffic is sometimes bad,’ she told herself. ‘He can’t blame you for that.’
    As they neared the restaurant, the traffic grew more dense. Annabel considered climbing out and walking, but she had two large portfolios and a laptop with her.
    ‘Can we get through that laneway up ahead?’ She unclipped her belt and leaned forward.
    ‘No, miss. One way only.’
    She bit her thumb nail and tried to harden her heart. She could feel her muscles tense, like her own protective shield going up around her.
    Finally, finally they arrived at Longrain. Annabel looked at her watch: 10.05. Five minutes late.
    Hunter was sitting at their favourite table with a bottle of rosé.
    ‘I’m sorry to keep you waiting—’ she began as she approached.
    He pointed to his watch, but he was smiling. There was a long blue Tiffany’s box waiting at Annabel’s place setting. It was his apology. He stood up and leaned in for a kiss. She offered her cheek, but he took her face in his hands and pulled her lips to his.
    ‘No, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I know I’ve been a bit testy lately. It’s just that … I miss you. I’m really very proud of what you’re doing.’
    The unexpected sincerity, coupled with Annabel’s exhaustion, loosened her armour.
    ‘Am I forgiven?’ he asked, squeezing her hand.
    ‘Yes.’ She put her arms around him and held him tight. As he hugged back, she felt her protective plates fall away. The beast was gone. Hunter had returned.
    ‘I hope you can still come to the Business Excellence Awards on Friday night,’ he said when their meals arrived. ‘I’m afraid it will be a bit of a bore, but there are a lot of wheels that need greasing if I want this promotion, and I could really use you by my side.’
    She reached across the table and pressed his hand. ‘Of course.’
    After the meal she felt revitalised. Part of her wanted to go back to the office and keep