Protect Me

Jennifer Culbreth
 

Copyright © by Jennifer Culbreth

All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission or the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover artwork created by Blowfish Artworks ©

www.blowfishart.com
 

Table of Contents
 

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Acknowledgements

“Come on sweet cheeks, it’s almost show time.” The butterflies in Abbi’s stomach went wild as her new boss Trent yelled from his office into the employee changing area.  She took one last look in the mirror. Her newly tanned skin complemented her wavy brown hair. Not one to usually wear a lot of make-up, she had stepped it up a bit for her first night of work in a new city. This was her chance to start over, and she would give it to herself, she looked pretty hot. If only she had a pair of shorts that weren’t going to ride up her ass all night. She still didn’t understand how a girl was comfortable having the bottom of her ass cheeks hanging out for the world to see. Change the color to orange and she would swear she was going to work as a Hooter’s girl.

But considering that she got to Los Angeles with not much more than first and last month’s rent, Abbi was lucky to have scored this job working at Mist, the hottest new night club on the LA scene. Call it fate or mere coincidence that she had accidentally grabbed the coffee of the club owner at Starbucks the morning she started her job search. After a few head to toe glances, and she was sure he stared at her ass when she had gone to the restroom, Trent offered her a job as one of his main bartenders.  Though to be honest anything was better than serving whiskey to a bunch of toothless wonders in the backwoods of hick-town USA. So even though she didn’t really know what to expect on her first night, she still knew it was a step up.  One last tug on the bottom hem of her shorts and she headed downstairs.

She walked up to the bar as Trent ran through the check list on his clipboard. He stared over the vast array of colorful bottles that sat in metal troughs behind the bar counter. Marking through certain names and checking off others.

“You know, I still don’t understand why you even asked me to wear a uniform. With these little scraps of fabric I might as well go naked.”  Abbi huffed. There was no way she would get used to the extra breeze.

“You got jokes tonight don’t you Country? Well, considering that I couldn’t get the permits for a strip club, looks like you will be stuck with those scraps of fabric…for now.” He said with a devilish grin.

“I still think you could have picked ones with just a little bit more length.” She threw her hand onto her hip. “But if it helps me to make tips I will pretend that it’s just Halloween every day I come into work.”

“It could have been worse, just imagine all of those girls working in Miami. They have to wear string bikinis.” Trent’s eyes wandered off into the distance almost as if in a day dream. About what, she didn’t think she wanted to know.

“Well let’s just pray for cold weather so you don’t have to see all this love in a string bikini.” She motioned her hands up and down her body. “Besides I only own a whole piece.”

“Ehh, it just takes a more creative imagination that’s all.” That day dream look still in his eyes, but now his eyes were on her. “Now, get your tight ass back here and get this bar set up for tonight. It’s going to be busy. We have been slammed every night since we opened so I am going to need you on your A-Game. This isn’t Kansas anymore Dorothy. Don’t make me fire you on your first night, because I might get used to seeing you in those shorts, or as you think lack thereof.”

With that Trent headed off towards the stairs leading to the upstairs office. One thing was for sure, Trent didn’t linger. He spoke his mind then left you hanging, never giving you a chance to oppose him.

Abbi felt her cheeks redden. She really hoped that the conversation she had just had with her boss had been one dripping with sarcasm. However she didn’t think it was, on his part at least. Not that Trent wasn’t handsome. He actually was quite the looker. He stood around 6’0, with blonde hair spiked up wildly in every direction. His bronzed skin set off his bright blue eyes. Where she came from he would be fondly known as a pretty boy. Even through his clothes she could tell he kept a good physique. The kind you got from being at the gym when you weren’t moving around 50 pound boxes. A brief image of what he may look like with his shirt off popped into her head.

“Ahh. Bad thought.” She said to an empty room as she shook her head trying to remove the thought. Of course she would pick a city full of beautiful people to move to where her Plain Jane style stuck out like a sore thumb.

Overwhelmed, she stared at the large selection of high end liquors that lined the inside of the bar. She made her way behind the counter and let out a big sigh. She had plenty of experience behind one however that had been in the small town where she had grown up.  Knowing the names, addresses, and dirty laundry of all of your customers was a lot different than serving to a crowd who had rich taste and high expectations. Here you couldn’t just put Mr. Henry into a cab after one too many Natty Lights. Even in the short time she had been in the city she had quickly realized that people pay for your service, not your opinions.

It was not more than three weeks ago, Abbi remembered, that she was standing in her trailer in Willacoochee, Georgia. It was a typical Tuesday afternoon, flipping through the growing stack of bills that rested against the wall on the counter in her kitchen. As she mentally calculated in her head how long she could go without paying the light bill before they shut them off, her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi. May I speak with a Ms. Abigail Hastings please?” A voice on the receiver asked.

“Sure, this is she.” Immediately knowing something was wrong since the stranger had used her full name.

“Hi ma’am. I don’t mean to be a bother of your time. My name is Thomas Wilcox. I am an attorney in Atlanta. I am contacting you in regards to your father Gerald Hastings.”

“Well shit. What did he do now? Is it going to cost me a lot to talk to you, because I’ll tell you now, I don’t have any money to pay you to get him out of trouble like the last attorney that called.”

“Well no ma’am, I’m actually calling about your father’s estate. Were you not notified of his passing?”

Abbi hadn’t seen or spoken to her father in two years.  The last time being the trip she had to take to Atlanta to get his sorry ass out of jail. He had started a bar fight over a losing bet and smashed a beer bottle into the side of another man’s head. Apparently this wasn’t his first offense at this particular bar either. After he had spent a night in jail, Abbi had gotten a similar phone call from a stuffy attorney stating that she had to pay him a rather large sum of money or this time her father was going to go to prison. She took out the only savings she had from the bank and headed out of town towards Atlanta, almost losing her job from missing so many days at the last minute.  After the hospital bills and the attorney’s fees had been paid, her rent had been late, again. And she had to go a week eating nothing but ramen noodles, the knock off brand at that.

“Um, no, actually I hadn’t been notified. How did it happen?” Abbi asked.

“Well, I am sure as you know your father’s health had been failing over the years.” Abbi flinched, she actually didn’t know her dad had been sick. The man continued, “I had met him last year when he hired my services to help him dispute some traffic violations that he had accumulated. We kept in touch once the charges were dropped. When his heart started failing my wife and I both visited him in the hospital. We were there the night that he passed away.”

“Oh. Well I am happy to know that he had someone there for him when it happened.”

From the time Abbi was little she could remember the drunken spats her parent’s would have in the living room. Most of the time her dad had gone out drinking and by the time he came home her mother was livid. She remembered the night he left. It was late and Abbi had gotten up to go to the bathroom. As she crept down the dark hallway she could hear the sobs of her mother coming from her parent’s bedroom. Scared and not knowing what to do she tip toed back to her room. As she closed the door behind her she heard the walls of the trailer rattle as her dad stumbled through the door. After that it was nothing but a mumbled argument through the wood paneling. The only sentence she could make out was her mother telling him to get the hell out and never come back, and he didn’t.

“Abigail.” Mr. Wilcox pulled her out of her thoughts.  

“Please, call me Abbi.”

“Yes of course, Abbi. Your father wanted me to make sure you knew how much he adored you. I know he wasn’t there for you growing up like he should have and he regretted that. I don’t expect you to have an enormous amount of sympathy for his situation, but he wanted you to know that even though he wasn’t there he still cared about you and your mother. He had given me your contact information and a few other wishes he had in regards to funeral arrangements before he died.”

“Thank you Mr. Wilcox. I appreciate you calling me. When will the services be held?”

“Actually, your father requested that he be cremated. We had that taken care of last week after his passing.”

Guilt washed over Abbi, having a stranger tell you how they handled the arrangements of your father’s death was a sobering feeling. Even if she didn’t have a normal relationship with him over the years, she knew she should have done a better job of reaching out. Her father’s absence in her younger years had caused many commitment issues for her in her adult life. She knew that if she had faced it head on, she may be able to have a little more faith in the male population.

“Oh, well you had mentioned my father’s estate. What do I need to do with that? Sell it?”

“No ma’am.” It almost sounded like he was laughing at her. “The term estate actually describes his personal belongings, bank accounts, and those type of things. When someone passes all of that becomes a part of their estate, and it is left to the beneficiary that was named in his will. We had taken care of all the legal documents once he fell ill. Abbi, your father named you the executor in his will, which means all of his belongings go directly to you. I hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty of gathering the list of accounts and so forth for you. I actually have some paperwork here that needs to be signed so that we can get the probate process in order. Since everything is already in place to be left to you it should be a very quick process.”

“Oh, ok. Well I won’t be able to come to Atlanta right away. I have work and I would have to be able to save a little money.” A pang of hope blossomed in Abbi’s stomach, this might finally be her chance to get out. Even if he had only left her enough to buy a plane ticket somewhere, she was only buying it for one way.

“If you would be available tomorrow I would be happy to meet you where you’re at, and get everything taken care of.”

And that he did.  By the next day Thomas Wilcox had made the very long car drive over to Willacoochee. She had met him at the diner by Highway 82, the only one in the small town.  Abbi didn’t know what exactly her father’s estate consisted of, but she was determined to make good use of whatever it was.  After signing all of the paperwork and making nervous small talk with Mr. Wilcox, she became aware that her father had a few accounts set up that contained a few thousand dollars, $4,310 to be exact.  By Friday the money had been transferred to her bank account and by the following Monday she had packed everything she could into her large suitcase and was on a plane headed for the big city.

“Girl you better snap out of that trance before Trent comes down here and light’s your ass on fire.” A short, dark haired girl said as she rounded the bar.

“I’m sorry.” Abbi said snapping out of her daydream.  The last thing she wanted was to look like she didn’t know what she was doing.  But hell, she didn’t have a clue “Hi, I’m Abbi.” She said lunging her hand towards the girl.