to watch her play spin the bottle with a bunch of sixteen-year-old boys sporting sweaty palms and zits.”
“Chaperones don’t have to play. They referee.” He looked at her, then raised one eyebrow. “You like her, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Abby answered honestly. She wasn’t sure how he’d figured that out, but he was right. She admired and respected Madison very much. Which made the fact that she didn’t think Madison Wainright was the woman for him even more puzzling.
“So Madison is invited?” he asked.
“She doesn’t have to be invited. You’re allowed to bring a date.”
“I will, if you will.” he said.
“Don’t hold your breath,” she muttered.
A few hours after their shopping trip, Nick stood in front of Abby’s door. He had finished up his work early and didn’t want to go home and kill time waiting for his date. He wasn’t due to pick Madison up for an hour so he’d decided to stop at Abby’s.
He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. Partly because of work issues he hadn’t discussed with her. But mostly her remark about not bringing a date to her sister’s party. A pretty girl like Abby should have guys beating a path to her door, but he was the only one there. And the sidewalk didn’t look any the worse for wear.
Her apartment was situated in a large complex with lots of shrubs and walkways. The entrance was tucked away between the stairway to the upper level and her storage unit.
He remembered helping her find the place after he’d advised her to sell her parents’ home. It seemed best. She couldn’t swing a mortgage payment, and she wouldn’t take money from him. The proceeds went into trust for the two sisters. Abby had a lot of responsibility to shoulder and selling gave her freedom from the upkeep and burden of a house, as well as a bit of financial security.
That was good. Because the one thing he’d learned to count on from Abby was pride. No handouts. She wanted to do things on her own, and she had.
He pushed the button to ring the bell, and moments later Abby opened the door. Surprise at seeing him made her big blue eyes bigger and bluer.
“Nick. I thought you were having dinner with Madison.”
“I am. In about an hour.”
“This is a long way from her high-rent district. What are you doing here?”
“Just killing time,” he said, unable to come up with anything he could share. “Do you mind if I come in?”
“Of course not. Sorry.” She stepped back so that he could enter.
He surveyed the living room as she closed the door behind him. It wasn’t large, but definitely homey and comfortable. A green-and-beige plaid couch and matching love seat sat at right angles to each other in the center. On one wall was an entertainment center with stereo, et cetera. He’d hooked it all up for her during an electronic crisis. It was one of the few times she’d called him. She didn’t know what to plug in where and was afraid she’d blow up her new VCR or old TV. There was a small dining area adjacent to the tiny kitchen. He knew the rest of the place consisted of two bedrooms and baths, plus a laundry area with apartment-size appliances.
The walls were filled with collages of family photos, knickknacks and inexpensive prints. Prominently displayed was a bronze-colored metal plaque proclaiming, What Doesn’t Kill Me Will Make Me Stronger.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Abby asked.
He shook his head. “Is Sarah here?”
“No. She went to the movies with a group of friends.”
“Any of them guys?” he asked.
“If they were I’d be clothed in camouflage and doing surveillance. I wouldn’t be standing here dressed like this,” she said with an expansive hand gesture that indicated her work attire.
She was wearing the same suit he’d seen her in earlier, but it was a more casual, sexier look. The jacket was off, as were her high heels. There she stood in her stocking feet, a run creeping its way up from her shapely ankle. Her powder-blue silk blouse looked disheveled, half in, half out of the waistband of her navy skirt. Tousled straight blond hair surrounded her oval face. She looked as if she’d just engaged in a heavy necking session with a guy who had rounded first and was fast approaching second base.
The image took him completely by surprise. He’d never thought of her like that before. What surprised him more was his own reaction to the idea of her being with a man.
Irritation bordering on anger.
Correction, he thought. He wasn’t angry at the idea of a man in her life, just the concept of that man actually reaching second base with her.
Since the day he’d met her, when she’d been eighteen trying to act thirty, he’d felt responsible for Abby. He’d taken the Ridgeway sisters under his wing. He’d given Abby her first job and watched her grow up. It was natural that he would want to protect her. But this level of intensity was weird, and he could only chalk it up to his encouraging her to date. Which he still thought she should do. It just meant that he would have to run interference for her.
She glanced at the watch on her slim wrist. “Isn’t it kind of late for a dinner date?”
He took off his suit jacket and laid it on the arm of the love seat before sitting down. “Madison is preparing for a big court case this week. She needed more time. You’re still filling in for Rebecca, aren’t you?” he asked.
Abby nodded. “She’s still on maternity leave. And I have to confess that wearing the manager’s high heels is a real eye-opener.”
“How so?” he asked. Although he already knew why. It was the reason he’d stopped into the restaurant earlier. But before he brought the subject up, he wanted to hear what she had to say. “You’re home a little early, aren’t you?”
She nodded, then tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “The dinner rush, if you can call it that, ended early, so I left.”
He could tell by the shadows in her eyes, the slump of her shoulders, the tension around her mouth that she was upset. “Tell me about it.”
Sighing, she sat on the other sofa, far enough away that there was no danger of their knees brushing. Instead of turning toward him, she faced straight ahead. Her body language screamed don’t cross that line. He frowned. At work she’d always made it a point to maintain a proper professional distance. Although lately he got the feeling she was trying to widen it. But this was her home. Here he thought they were friends, not boss and employee. Which was why he was letting her explain at her leisure the reason she was home earlier than usual.
“Business was slow. I had to send home a waiter and busboy tonight.” She met his gaze. “That’s the reason you were working today, isn’t it? It’s the reason you stopped in. You were checking things out.”
“Yes.” He didn’t bother to deny it. He’d been afraid that a slow evening was what had sent her home early. “But
