He laughed quietly and it might have been the first genuine smile I had seen on him all week.
‘You should do that more often.’
‘What’s that?’ he said, quirking an eyebrow at me.
‘Smile.’
‘You haven’t RSVP’d to the launch party.’
‘I wasn’t planning on going.’
‘You have to.’ His voice sounded strained. ‘For work,’ he added.
‘I have Ella next week and I don’t have anything to wear for your black-tie dress code.’
‘You have Ellathisweek and I’m certain you have something to wear, or Kate does.’
It was annoying he knew my schedule with Ella.
‘Abbey, if you need … you know … money …’ He leaned forward, his eyes and voice imploring.
‘Nick. Stop.’
‘I’m just trying to—’
‘Just here will be fine,’ I said to his driver. We were at the top of my street. I needed to get out of this car. ‘I do not need to be rescued, Nick. Thank you for the lift.’ I climbed out and shut the door firmly behind me. And ran down the street to my house. Why were people trying to fix things for me? Why did they assume I couldn’t sort out my own dramas? It was infuriating.
I stood in the rain, digging through my handbag for my bloody house keys and saw them in an actual pocket, astonished that at some point that day I had put them in an easy-to-find place (where I would never look) and not in the central compartment I was digging around in.
When I looked up, he was in front of me.
‘Can Holiday Nick talk to Holiday Abbey just for a second?’
The water was dripping down his face, making his hair dark and shiny, reminding me of that first night we met. It felt like a lifetime ago.
I shook my head. ‘If Holiday Nick arrives, I won’t want him to leave me. And Holiday Abbey, well, the problem there … is that she is just me. Just Abbey … So no. Not even for a second.’ I put my hand into the hollow of his chest where it fit. And then I went inside, leaving him in the rain.
Nick
This work situation with Abbey was going to kill me. I’d told Ollie I would step away after Friday night’s party. I promised myself I would not get personal with her. I almost kissed her in the bloody car.
People who make vows never to fall in love again should avoid spending enormous amounts of time with Abbey Parker. Abbey was … she was pretty fucking wonderful.
At work, she was just … fantastic. On Tuesday, she was absolutely flattened underneath the pile. She seemed to be the company ‘community brain’ and they would ask her for things instead of thinking for themselves. I watched her carefully, waiting to see how she would react, keeping hold of anything I needed from her myself. I did this so as not to add to her day, though I could tell this irritated her or she read something else into it because she took the time to shove passive-aggressive tea at me. I watched, impressed, as she politely managed items off her desk. The freeloaders left with simple instructions and a smile, and I was astonished. She practically ran the place, giving Oliver and me the space we needed to focus on the takeover and changing the things he wanted to change. I wanted nothing but to be close to her, to study her carefully.
She still had not RSVP’d to the party, which was bloody well driving me crazy. I was thinking about her non-stop and I was doing ludicrous, and I mean, absolutely barking shit all over the place. For example, on Monday I rang her child’s school principal and made an anonymous, eight-thousand-dollar donation, to ensure that Ella and some other fucking child I do not even know can go live with Canadian doctors for three months, without cost to Abbey.
That, sadly, was not the limit of my madness. Worried the lack of RSVP was actually about a dress, I was forced on Thursday to wander around a Sydney department store to pick out something for her. Thankfully, the staff were extremely helpful, and the store was searched for a colleague who was Abbey’s approximate height and weight. And Amelia from the kitchen department was extremely patient as she tried on every gown in the bloody store until I found it.
I then, awkwardly, had to get her sister involved.
I knocked on their door on Thursday afternoon, when I knew Abbey was safely ensconced at her desk in the office, and Kate answered it with a coffee in her hand. Her hair was up in a messy bun and her activewear told me she’d been to the gym.
‘Is Abbey okay?’
‘Yes. I’m so sorry to come uninvited. I, uh, I need your help.’
She arched an imperious eyebrow at me and then stood aside.
