Finding Abigail (2 page)

“Hi. Abigail
Watson to see Debbie Frankford,” I said to the secretary when I reached the
desk. She must be a temp. Gwen, the normal receptionist, was nowhere to be
seen.

She gave me a
warm smile that lit up her green eyes. “Yes, Miss Watson, Debbie’s expecting
you. Go on in,” she replied politely.

I thanked her
and strode down the long carpeted hall to Debbie’s office.

“You’re late!”
my editor and best friend snapped when I had barely walked in the door. She sat
at her desk reading what looked like an unpublished manuscript. Her long,
cinnamon-colored hair was pulled back away from her face, a pencil stuck behind
her ear. Her words sounded angry, but the expression in her hazel eyes didn’t
match her tone. She set the pages down on the desk as I approached her.

“I know, I’m so
sorry I’ll be on time at our next meeting, I promise.”

She continued
to glare at me, and then suddenly smiled. “You’re not late. I told you to be
here at eleven, but I don’t have you scheduled until eleven thirty.” She
started to laugh at me and then covered her mouth to stop it. Probably because
of the shocked look that was no doubt on my face.

“You bitch, do
you know that I was in such a rush, I was worried I’d forget my pants?”

She laughed
even harder, a cheerful sound that made me smile—on the inside, since I
couldn’t let her see it.

“I’m glad I
amuse you.” I glared at her, falling into the plush chair in front of her desk.
“Why did I have to come down here anyway, I could have just emailed them to
you.”

“Yes, you could
have. But then you would never leave your apartment, would you?”

“That’s true,”
I said, no longer angry. “Okay.” I reached into my brown suede briefcase; the
earthy scent reminded me of my mother as she gave it to me for Christmas last
year.

“Here you go.”
I handed Debbie a file that held an outline for my next book. She took it from
my fingers and placed it on her desk. “I’m thinking of making it a series
called The Little Miss books.” She scanned the first page as I went on. “You
know, Little Miss goes to the mall. Little Miss rides the school bus. Little
Miss goes to the carnival, and so on. What do you think?”

She glanced up
from the pages and smiled. “I’m so glad we work together.”

“Does that mean
you like it?”

“I love it. So
much so, that I’m taking you to lunch.” She stood up and pushed her chair back,
hitting the papered wall behind her with a thump.

“Aren’t you
going to finish reading the outline? I thought that’s why I was here.”

“No, I’ll read
it later. This was just was a ruse to get you out of that apartment so we could
go eat.”

“Are you
kidding, I could be writing right now. You know my editor is a slave driver.” I
leaned over the desk, plucking the pencil from her ear and tossing it onto the
discarded manuscript, creating lead marks on the white paper.

“I know, isn’t
she?” She winked and walked around the desk. “Now let’s go, I’m starving.”
After pulling her jean jacket on, she threaded her arm though mine and we
headed to the elevator.

Strolling past
a couple of desks in the main workroom, we saw a man in a police uniform
talking to a woman who had black hair and wore a gray business suit. She looked
vaguely familiar, but I was terrible with names.

He sat on the
edge of her desk, talking in a low voice. Whatever he said made her laugh. She
covered her mouth to hide her giggle.

“Is someone
getting arrested?” I asked Debbie.

A smile tugged
at his lips when he saw us approach. His gaze followed as we passed.

“
You
probably, for wearing mismatched socks,” she said, shaking her head in disgust.

We reached the
elevator and stood in front of it. “My socks match.” I glanced down to see one
white and one black. “How the hell did that happen?” I mumbled to myself.

“With you, who
knows?” she grumbled, pushing the elevator button. “Besides, you shouldn’t even
be wearing socks. How many times have I told you to wear heels, not sneakers.”

The idea of
squeezing my unusually wide feet into heels for a casual lunch with a friend
was laughable. Of course, I was no stranger to dressy shoes, or fancy clothes,
for that matter, but to me there had to be a damn good reason to do so, and
this was not one of those times. I peered down at my black canvas shoes,
wiggling my toes. “I like my sneakers. Besides, I’m wearing jeans and I’m not
wearing heels with jeans.” Once the elevator door creaked open, we stepped
inside.

She gaped at me
like I had two heads as the car started to move. Her thick lashes blinked at
me. “What am I going to do with you? I have to trick you to get you out. Am I going
to have to dress you too?”

“You love me
the way I am, and you know it.” I bumped my hip against hers.

She held her
exasperated expression a few beats, and then smiled. “You’re right. I do,
there’s no one like you, Abby.” She sighed as we exited the elevator and headed
out the building’s front door.

The trendy
restaurant we chose was crowded with
people on
lunch break from the nearby offices. The large dining room was welcoming
with splashes of creamy white and burgundy throughout
the space. A single white lily peeked out of crystal vases in the center of
each table. A buzz of conversation filled the aromatic air. Most of the
customers were dressed like Debbie, in suits or casual dresses. I felt a little
underdressed in my jeans and purple cotton top.

We were seated
along the front window in a comfortable burgundy banquette. I asked her where
Gwen, the regular receptionist, was.

“She left two
months ago, I told you that. Honestly,” she said, shaking her head. “How do you
make it through the day? You’re constantly in your own little world.”

She meant it as
an insult, but I grinned. “I like it in my world; it’s bright, colorful, and
shiny.”

She laughed, a
soft chortle that had the man in the booth behind us glance in her direction.

There was a certain
aroma in the room that I couldn’t quite name. A mix of yummy smells all rolled
into one. Since identifying the specific one I liked the best was impossible, I
asked the waiter, once he arrived, for a cheeseburger and fries. I was in the
mood for something greasy.

Debbie ordered
a chef’s salad—how boring. While we waited for our lunch, she filled me in on
her love life. She was dating a hot mystery writer. He had taken her out five
times and she was getting ready for the big night. “So what about you, any
dates lately?” she asked with a smirk on her face. She played with the cubes of
ice in her glass, creating a soft tinkling sound. The sweat from the glass made
her fingers glisten.

I scowled at
her. “Why would you ask if you already know the answer? Are you trying to rub
it in?” The waiter placed our meals in front of us. I took a big bite of my
burger. It tasted so good, my stomach rumbled and I realized that I had
completely forgotten to eat breakfast.

“I’m sorry. But
I do have this guy in mind for you. He’s a writer too, and I know you’ll hit it
off.”

Once I
swallowed, I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Do I have a sign on my head that says
‘please fix me up’?
God
, between you, my mother, and my neighbor, I’m
going crazy.”

Throwing her
head back with a laugh, she picked up her fork, pointing it at me. “Well, we
know you need a life other than writing, so maybe dating someone will get you
out of your place and back out into the world.” Her fork stabbed into lettuce
and cucumber. Placing the half-filled utensil into her mouth, she ate like a
bird, chewing daintily. I hadn’t been out to eat with her in a while, but this
was not the Debbie I knew. In college she could even out eat me and not gain an
ounce. It was sickening.

I watched her
with raised brows as she nibbled. She didn’t even notice. “No thanks, no more
blind dates from you. I’m still not over the last one. All he talked about was
monster trucks. Then he took me to a rally and it was so loud I couldn’t hear
for two days.”

She laughed,
quickly covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry, but that was so funny. I
remember what you looked like when you came over afterwards, covered head to
toe in mud. Weren’t you lucky he had front row seats?”

I rolled my
eyes at her. “Yeah, great fun. Let’s talk about something else please,” I
complained, remembering that horrifying evening.

We finished our
meal as she discussed my pathetic love life. After a few minutes the waiter
came with our bill.

I left her in
front of her building. Once she disappeared through the glass doors, I turned
to hail a cab.

The policeman
from upstairs was leaning against his car, in front of me. The bright April sun
glared off the white paint from his police cruiser.

He was staring
in my direction. After a quick glance behind me and seeing no one there, I
guessed he was watching me. I took a step toward him, and he smiled.

“You’re the
girl I saw earlier.” He nodded his head to the building Debbie had disappeared
into.

A car squealed
its tires in the street in front of us; shortly after, a horn honked.

“Brilliant
observation, Officer. I can see why you chose your particular line of work.” I
folded my arms, taking a quick step sideways to avoid a stroller coming at me.
The woman pushing it seemed to be in a huge hurry.

He chuckled and
shook his head. “What’s your name?”

“You’re a cop,
shouldn’t you already know it?”

He laughed,
showing perfect white teeth. “I could find out, but wouldn’t it be easier for
you to just tell me?”

“Who would you
find out from? The girl you were hitting on only an hour ago?” The cold sarcasm
in my voice was obvious.

He arched his
brow in confusion, then when understanding hit, he smiled. “That was my cousin,
Maria. My mother asked if I’d stop by and ask her over for dinner since the
station is just down the road.”

Okay, now I felt
dumb
. “Oh, well, I’m still not giving you my name.”

He opened his
mouth to speak just as a cab pulled up against the curb, the squeaking breaks
echoing through the air. Ignoring the urge to stay and flirt some more, I said,
“Sorry, cab’s here, gotta go.”

“I’ll give you
a ride in my car.” His voice was deep and sexy.

“Am I under
arrest, Officer?” I said, with my head tilted.

“Have you
broken any laws lately?”

I opened the
door of the car and leaned in. “Not that I know of.”

He folded his
arms in front of him. “Then, no.”

“In that case,
I’ll stick with the cab.” I climbed in before the cabbie complained. He sighed
a few times, obviously annoyed at having to wait.

As we rolled
away from the curb, I saw the cop watching me from out of the corner of my eye.

Was it pathetic
that even though I had only spoken to him for a minute or so, it was still the
longest conversation I’d had with a guy in weeks?

He was very
cute—tall, with short dark hair. I couldn’t see the color of his eyes because
he was wearing sunglasses, which also added to the look. His height could be a
problem though; I’d have to use a step ladder to get a goodnight kiss. I
grinned at the thought; the idea that after one meeting with this guy and I was
already daydreaming about him was ridiculous. I knew I’d never see him again.
It must be the uniform; it was a definite plus for me.
What was it about a
man in uniform?

Family

As soon as the
elevator doors slid open on my floor, I heard my phone ringing from down the
hall. I took off in a run, nearly tripping on the Berber carpet trying to catch
the phone, but just as I stuck the key in the lock, the ringing stopped. My
voice floated out of the machine, telling the caller to leave a message. It was
my mother, reminding me of dinner tonight.
Great
, a family dinner, just
what I was in the mood for after my lunch with Debbie.

With time to
kill before I needed to leave, I sat down at my computer and started working.
However, two hours later, wrapped up in Little Miss Susie Sunshine’s first trip
to the mall, I glanced at the clock.
Crap
, I was late again.

It took about
fifteen minutes to get to my mom’s quiet suburb. I only used my car when I left
the city. Traveling within it was killer on the wallet. The price of parking
was robbery.

The drive
through my old neighborhood was peaceful. The streets were filled with kids
playing in yards, jumping rope, and having fun in the park. The houses were
neat and trim, with perfectly manicured lawns. The sound of dogs barking and
children’s laugher echoed through my open car windows. Even though I enjoyed my
apartment in the city, I loved coming back home. I felt closer to my father
here.