He was not in his study for long when there was a soft knock on the door.
He hoped it was Abby.
Why he hoped this, he didn’t know. So they could have a moment alone to talk about their dinner guests or to share a bit of quiet. Or, better yet, so he could put his hands on her, touch his mouth to hers, show her nonverbally how much it meant to him that she’d come rushing to the hospital in a panic at the thought he might be hurt.
However, it wasn’t Abby.
It was Jenny.
At his call, she put her head around the door and asked, “Can I have a quiet word?”
At this unforeseen turn of events, he went on guard but nodded.
Then Jenny came in, sat across from his desk and had her quiet word.
Or, more specifically, she had several of them.
And as she spoke, Cash’s hands itched to cup her shoulders and give her a good shake.
For, he found, she had overheard a conversation he had with James at a party some time ago, a conversation Cash remembered perfectly. She had not heard all of it, thankfully, but she’d heard enough of it for her, Jenny, to get the spectacularly asinine idea to pimp out her best friend.
Therefore she knew about Cash and Abby’s initial arrangement because she’d been the person who’d orchestrated it.
He also discovered Abby’s final secret, the reason why Abby sold her body and not her family’s possessions.
Jenny informed him about the enormity of loss Abby had endured the past six years (something he already knew). She also described Abby’s inability to cope with this as each blow landed one after the other (something he also had figured out). Further, she told him about the debt in which Abby had unexpectedly found herself (again, he’d already discovered this fact).
Finally, she explained how Abby had centred her attention on her house as the sole, remaining entity that represented her grandmother, mother, father and, lastly, and most especially, Jenny stressed, Abby’s dead husband, the dear, funny, caring, attentive, beloved, faultless Ben.
Then Jenny told Cash he had to back off, that Abby was clearly becoming confused. She explained to him, carefully, that whatever his agenda was, it was lost on Abby. Whereas he had some final purpose from which he’d move on without Abby, Abby was getting muddled and, cautiously, Jenny shared that she feared Abby’s heart was getting involved.
Therefore, Jenny told him, he had to have a talk with Abby to get her back on track or preferably wind up their agreement and let Abby get back to her “real” life. And, so Abby wouldn’t feel any harm from this, Jenny was perfectly willing to settle any debt that Abby might owe Cash or provide, through Cash, any further payment he might owe Abby.
Cash had been silent throughout her speech and when Jenny stopped talking, she swallowed and stared at him, obviously waiting for his answer.
“Are you finished?” Cash asked, his voice cool and controlled, his thoughts lethal.
“I think so,” Jenny answered.
“Obviously, Abby hasn’t had time to speak with you,” Cash told her.
Jenny’s expression turned confused. “Speak with me about what?”
“If she hasn’t spoken with you, then it’s not my place to explain,” Cash returned.
Jenny squared her shoulders. “If it’s about Abby, then you should tell me. Sometimes she gets –”
Cash cut her off by saying sharply, “Stop.”
Jenny’s mouth snapped shut and her eyes got wide. This was likely because Cash was angry and he’d been hiding it but he had decided it was time to let it show. She’d said enough, he wasn’t going to sit and listen to her belittle her best friend even if it was with the “best intentions”.
He didn’t know what he looked like but from her expression she read his rather severe displeasure.
He spoke again, his voice deceptively quiet but clearly unhappy. “I hope you’ve realised your mistake at encouraging your vulnerable friend to embark on such a,” Cash paused, searching for an appropriate word then found it, “questionable venture.”
“I –” she started but Cash cut her off.
“Luckily for you, Abby isn’t good at being a cold-hearted prostitute.” He watched Jenny blanch and carried on. “From practically the minute I met her, I knew she wasn’t what she said she was. I investigated her, discovered the truth and we’ve moved on from that. I’ll let Abby explain what that means when she’s ready.”
“But –” Jenny started but Cash talked over her.
“As for backing off, that’s not going to happen. Patience and understanding don’t work with Abby. Backing off means Abby retreating and I’m not going to allow her to do that.”
Jenny leaned forward and put her hand on his desk. “You don’t understand, she’s –” but Cash ruthlessly persevered.
“I do understand. I know she’s lost her parents, her grandmother and her husband. I know how. I know when. I know she hasn’t recovered, not from any of it and especially from Ben. I know she’s terrified of living her life and letting anyone in for fear of losing someone else. Even if I didn’t know it, the events of this evening would have demonstrated that fact rather forcefully.”
Jenny closed her eyes and he saw her knuckles get white as she clutched the edge of his desk.
He went on. “Now I’ll explain something you don’t understand.” He watched her eyes open and his gaze locked on hers. “You don’t know me and I don’t appreciate you making assumptions about me or my behaviour or my intent, especially in regards to Abby. I know you’re her friend but it’s none of your fucking business until Abby makes it so. Do you get my meaning?”
She sat back and he saw her teeth clench before she hissed, “Now you’re making assumptions about me.”
“I’m not the one who sat there and calmly described my efforts to pimp out my best friend,” he returned.
“I didn’t pimp her out!” Jenny snapped.
“No?” Cash replied.
She was shifting in her chair, not with discomfort but with anger. “You’ve known her, what? Two weeks? You’ve no idea what she’s gone through, what she was going through. Completely no idea.”
“No, Jenny. I have every idea,” Cash responded evenly.
“You can’t, I’ve known her for decades. I lived through all of this with her!”
“It wasn’t you she threw her arms around tonight,” Cash retorted.
“No, Cash,” she snapped, “it was me who stood behind her when she sat by her mother’s bed, her head on her mother’s hand, when Mom Deux took her last breath. It was me Ben called when Abby lost it when her Dad died. It was me Abby called after the police left when they gave Abby the news that Ben had been crushed to death in his own fucking car. It was me who had to phone Abby when her grandmother died. And it’ll be me who picks up the pieces after you’re through with her.”
Cash sat back and took in a breath through his nose, trying to find patience then he said, “All right, Jenny, then you’ve earned the right to know that, now, it’s me who’s restoring her treasured family home. It’s me who’s going to sort her latest financial disaster. And, for the foreseeable future, it’ll be my house you come to if you want to see your friend. Further, it’ll be me who gives Abby the life she deserves and it’ll be me who makes certain she carries on with that life even if I’m not in it. To make certain I’m clear, there will be no pieces to pick up. I’ll take care of her while she’s in my life and I’ll be certain she’s taken care of when she’s no longer in it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I haven’t gotten through to you at all, have I?”
“No, what’s gotten through is you’re intent on enabling the fear that’s keeping Abby from living her life,” Cash answered.
“Right,” she stood and glared down at him, “and I should encourage her to fall head over heels for some guy who’d pay for sex and who calmly sits there and tells me he’s going to keep doing it but in a nicer way, of course.”
Rage shot through him at her words
but with some effort Cash remained seated and held her angry gaze. “Actually, what I’m telling you is that you shouldn’t stand in my way.”
“Is that a threat?” she snapped.
“No,” Cash replied truthfully and it wasn’t. Cash didn’t believe in threats. He felt strongly that you never threatened anything you had no intention of doing.
The truth was, if Jenny stood in his way with Abby, best friend or not, he’d show no remorse in getting what he wanted or in this case keeping what he had.
Jenny stared at him, her chest rising and falling quickly with her breathing.
Cash stared back coolly but he was still very angry.
Finally, she clipped, “Fine,” then she walked to the door but turned to him and declared, “I’d prefer Abby didn’t know we had this little chat.”
“I’ll not lie to Abby,” he told her, watched as she pulled her lips between her teeth and relented, “However, I also won’t tell her unless she asks.”
She nodded jerkily and put her hand on the doorknob and something Cash couldn’t control or explain made him ask, “Why don’t you want her to be happy?”
Jenny turned back to him, her face the picture of stunned, hurt surprise, and she whispered, “Of course I want her to be happy.”
Cash’s voice gentled when he assured her, “Jenny, I can make her happy.”
Jenny’s expression melted to one of thoughtful concern. “Yes, Cash. You already are” Cash felt her words hit him like strangely pleasant, velvet-gloved blows, but she went on. “But for how long? You want to give her the life she deserves? That isn’t a life filled with cashmere robes and diamond bracelets. That’s a life filled with happiness. If you take a part of her life, she might be missing out on someone who doesn’t start his relationship with her talking about when he’ll no longer be in it. And, that also means, however long you two last, somewhere along the line she has to start again.” Her voice pitched lower as her verbal blows became far less pleasant, in fact, they felt like jabbing knifepoints piercing his skin. “She’s had to start again enough, Cash. Don’t you think?”
With that, she opened the door and was gone.
And Cash stared at the door long after she’d gone, knowing and hating the knowledge that she was right.
Some time later, another knock came at the door and he tensed but this time it was Abby telling him their guests were leaving.
He’d walked to the front door with her to bid their guests goodnight. Jenny did well, giving him a cheek touch and a squeeze of the arm, indicating to those who might be watching that all was well between Abby’s best friend and her boyfriend.
He closed and locked the door and by the time he turned around, Abby had wandered down the hall. He followed her and found her in the spotless kitchen, getting a glass.
He stood at the end of the counter watching her fill the glass with water then she walked to him and grabbed her purse that was sitting on the counter by his hip.
“Abby,” he called, not certain what he meant to say, just knowing something needed to be said, but she was rooting through her purse.
“Mm?” she mumbled, pulling a small, thin, gold case out of her purse and opening it.
“Did you have a good night?” he asked softly and watched with rising unease as she selected four identical pills from the case, flipped the case shut and dropped it into her bag.
“Yes,” she answered distractedly and picked up her water.
“What’s that?” he enquired as her fingers closed around the pills.
“Ibuprofen,” she replied and started to lift her hand to her mouth but his own shot out and caught hers firmly at the wrist.
Her eyes flew to his and her brows drew together. “Cash.”
“The usual dose of ibuprofen is two tablets,” he told her.
“I know, but –”
His thumb moved along her palm, forcing her fist open. “Then take two.”
She was looking at him quizzically. “Two isn’t enough.”
He placed his other hand under both of theirs, turned her wrist and the tablets fell out of her now-opened palm into his own. He took two tablets and gave them to her, his fingers closing around the other two.
She accepted them but her gaze was still on his. “Cash, I’m telling you, two isn’t enough. Three isn’t enough. Only four will work.”
His eyes moved over her face and he saw she looked slightly pale and had a not-very-Abby-like pinched look to her mouth.
“Do you have a headache?” he asked.
“No,” she answered.
“What’s the matter?” he pressed when she gave no further explanation.
“I’d rather not say.”
“Do you often take double the recommended dose of medication?” he pushed.
“No, I don’t often take medication. Cash, I don’t get it, what’s the big deal?”
Cash sighed before saying, “Abby, if you tell me what’s the matter, I can call Tim and ask him what you should do about it.”
Her eyes went wide. “You’re not calling Tim about this!”
“What is it?”
“I’d rather not say.”
His hand came to her neck and he put pressure there while saying warningly, “Abby.”
“I’ve got cramps, all right?” Her eyes rolled to the ceiling and she breathed, “Geez.”
Even with his mind filled alternately with the vision of a panic-stricken Abby somehow gracefully flying toward him in high heels outside an A&E and the disquieting conversation he’d had with her best friend, Cash still couldn’t stop himself from roaring with laughter.
While laughing, he used his hand to guide her close until he felt her hips against his. When he was done, he looked down at her and she was scowling at him.
“Cramps aren’t funny,” she informed him irritably.
His hand moved from her neck, down her back to circle her waist.
“I’m sorry, darling. Are you in a lot of pain?”
“Yes,” she snapped.
He gave her a squeeze. “Does it happen every month?”
“No,” she replied shortly, “every other month. Apparently I have a testy ovary. Now can we stop talking about this?”
He smiled while he told her, “It’s perfectly natural.”
“Yes, I am aware of that, Cash Fraser,” she retorted. “I still would rather not talk to my new boyfriend about period cramps. Jenny, I could talk to, but I don’t converse with Pete, my handyman, who was also my grandmother’s handyman, who I’ve known since I can remember, about period cramps. Okay?” Cash kept smiling at her and she heaved an enormous sigh before asking, “Can I have my tablets please?”
He lifted his hand and dropped the two tablets into her opened palm. Keeping his arm around her, he watched her take them deciding tonight was not the night to talk about their future, a future which had limits. Limits that Abby had to understand before she embarked on any future with him.
They’d talk about it tomorrow.
Or, Cash thought, after his aunt and uncle’s anniversary.
Or, he thought (understanding his own selfishness but, with Abby pressed close, not caring), even later.
She put her glass on the counter and relaxed into him.
“That’ll work?” Cash asked softly.
“In about half an hour, yes,” she replied.
“I’ll let you get to sleep and finish up in the study,” Cash told her.
A look crossed her face that he could swear was disappointment before she nodded.
His hand not around her lifted to her jaw, his thumb sliding along her soft cheek. “I’ll be up soon.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
She tipped her head back and he knew she expected a kiss. Not just expected one but wanted one. And not a demonstration of passion, but rather one of affection.
His eyes roamed her face, memorising the beauty of it in anticipation of tenderness, before his neck bent and he touched his mouth to hers.
“Go
to sleep,” he muttered against her lips.
“Don’t be long,” she whispered back and gave his waist a squeeze with her hands before she pulled away and walked up the stairs.
He wandered the room, turning off the lights and extinguishing candles when, at the last lamp, he stopped and looked around.
His arrival that evening had not been conducive to him paying much attention to anything but Abby. Dinner was more Abby, her delicious meal as well as a throng of women in his dining room.
So he hadn’t noticed until now how Abby’s simple touches had transformed the room from what had always been only living space to what was now lived-in space.
He pulled in a slow breath and on the exhale, he muttered, “Fuck,” before he turned out the last lamp and walked up the stairs to his study.
Now it was much later and it had taken him some time to regain concentration on his work. He’d finished that, switched off his laptop, the lamps, turned his chair to the window and sat brooding in his darkened study like a character out of a Brontë novel.
On that thought, he pushed out of his chair and walked upstairs to his bedroom, seeing Abby’s motionless form under the bedclothes. Cash could tell, even in the dark, she’d curled around his pillow.
He prepared for bed, pulled back the covers and slid in. Careful not to disturb her, he tugged at his pillow. As she was asleep, and he always had her in sleep, she gave up the pillow in favour of him, her limbs curving around him as she pressed close. He put his pillow behind his head and settled back.
“Cash?” she whispered, her voice sexy and husky.
“Yes, love, go back to sleep.”
Abby had not lied when she’d told him she liked her sleep. Therefore, he was surprised when she got up on her elbow and pulled her hair out of her face.
“Is it late?” she asked.
“Close to midnight,” he replied.
“Are you tired?”
No. He wasn’t tired. He was in bed with Abby and her voice was just-woken-up-throaty. However, she’d also started her period and was uncomfortable even talking about it therefore he had a feeling she’d not be thrilled with the idea of having sex while on it.