by Evie Hunter
So what? Abbie’s temper rose. He was almost as annoying as Jack. She would refuse to answer the question.
Disciplinarian is typing.
Abbie bit her lip. Put like that, it sounded awful. She knew that she could be all of those things, but it wasn’t as if she bossed William around. Well, not all the time. Her fingers raced over the keyboard.
She was tempted to write a snappy response to his ‘good girl’ remark. He was almost as bad as Jack. But it was too late, he had already gone offline. She read over the last few lines of their conversation. How had a stranger done this to her? Made her open up to him in a way that she couldn’t with anyone else. Was it the online thing? Perhaps there was safety in geography. She didn’t know where he was and they would probably never meet.
13
Abbie’s cell phone buzzed as she stepped into the coffee shop. She reached into her purse and pulled it out. Wrong one. She fished out the other one and glanced at the display. It was Betsy again. She was tempted to take the battery out and crush it under the spike heel of her shoes. Josh Martin on his worst day wasn’t half as demanding as the queen of the Lifestyle section. Abbie let the call go to voicemail. No wonder the woman was a size zero. She never took a lunch break.
Kit waved at her from their usual table and Abbie flopped down into the chair opposite. ‘ You know, life was easier in the jungle. Have you ordered yet?’
‘Yep, two vegetarian specials.’
Abbie pulled a face. Kit was a health-food freak.
‘So?’ Kit poured two glasses of water from a carafe. ‘How is cyberspace? Have you made contact with Paloma’s friend yet?’
Abbie was relieved when the waiter arrived with two colourful salads. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to talk about this yet.
‘You’ve gone back into your shell again.’
‘No, I haven’t. I’m just – what would you say? – I’m processing.’
‘And?’
Abbie put her knife and fork on her plate. ‘I’m not going to get away with this, am I?’
Kit titled her head and smiled. ‘Not a chance. Tell me what’s going on with you.’
She speared a piece of tofu. ‘I’ve made contact with him.’
‘Him who?’
Abbie leaned forwards. ‘His name is Disciplinarian.’
Kit gave a very unladylike snort of laughter. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean that but with you and the spanking, well I –’
Abbie could feel the blush rising from her neck. ‘Why don’t you stand on a chair and announce it to the restaurant? I don’t think the girl at the till heard you.’
‘Don’t be so sensitive, Abbie. It was a joke. Now, tell me about D.’
Abbie pushed her salad around her plate. ‘He doesn’t let me get away with anything. I have to tell the truth. I can’t use bad language and he wants to talk about my sex life with William.’
‘Anything else?’
‘What do you mean, anything else? I haven’t even spoken to you about that stuff.’
‘Maybe it’s easier to talk to someone in cyberspace. The good thing is that you’re talking to someone.’
A meeting with Betsy and the team distracted her, but by late afternoon she was pensive again. Abbie pulled her coat around her as she left the office. Despite the threatening rain clouds, she decided to walk home. It would do her good to chase away her unsettling thoughts. Kit was pleased that she was talking to someone. She wasn’t so sure. D was like a battering ram, breaching her defences, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted someone poking around inside her head. She stopped by the local deli and picked up calzone for dinner. She ate in front of the television, trying to kill time until she could log on.
He responded almost immediately.
Nope, the old let me distract you by telling you about my new job ploy hadn’t worked with him. They were back to talking about her feelings again.
Where could she start? Talking to him like this had opened up a ton of stuff. William, the wedding, her family. She wasn’t sure whether she was ready for another session of Let’s Torture Abbie.
Trust him to pick up on that. It wasn’t as if she was out every night drinking cocktails until 2am.
She took a defiant sip before typing again.
Abbie stared at the computer screen for a long minute. Why was she so scared? What was so hard about talking to someone? He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t interested.
Disciplinarian is typing.
In stark black and white that looked bad. It wasn’t as if she had asked her to organize anything. Dolores Dillard simply took over and William was happy to let her. The first time she had gone to North Africa and got stuck there. Not turning up for a fitting with Vera Wang which had been booked months before had been the first nail in the coffin of their mother-in-law/daughter-in-law relationship. Dolores had been furious that she hadn’t just resigned from her job when they got engaged.
God, the man was obsessed. Sex, sex, sex. Didn’t he ever think of anything else? He was worse than Kit. She got it that they weren’t online to chat about her interest in Honduran drug gangs. But did it have to keep coming back to her sex life? She tried to distract him.
Correction, I so do not want to go there. What was the endless fascination with William? It wasn’t as if he had been her first boyfriend. There had been that guy she had spent the night with in Mexico during spring break. She didn’t remember much of it except that he was from Sweden, doing a world tour after college. They hadn’t actually had sex. Too many mojitos. Maybe D would like to hear about that instead?
He wouldn’t. He couldn’t cut her off like this. Abbie typed furiously.
What more did he want? An anatomy lesson? She had just told him about her first time. What could she tell a Dom about sex that he didn’t know already?
Abbie was tempted to throw a cushion at the screen. If she didn’t reply he would go all Dom again. She had asked him to help her, not burrow into every little part of her brain. The man was worse than a therapist.
Disciplinarian is typing.
She could feel a lump in her throat. So what if she didn’t come? So what if life inside the Marshall/Dillard boudoir wasn’t like the Kama Sutra? Lots of people didn’t have an orgasm every time they had sex. Lots of her friends didn’t have sex at all. D was just winding her up. Trying to see how far he could push her. He was just like Jack.
She slammed the laptop shut. Abbie sniffed loudly. This had been a mistake. A huge mistake. She reached for her cell phone, but it was already late. She couldn’t call Kit now. Abbie eyed the power cable. What she wouldn’t give to be within two feet of Mr Disciplinarian. Memories of Jack flashed into her brain. His arms around her at night protecting her. His hand on her –
‘Shit.’ She dragged her hand through her hair. She couldn’t go on like this. There had to be some way of getting Jack out of her head. She would have to talk to D.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Had he pushed her too hard? She had just gone offline, with no indication that she would be back.
He pushed himself back from the laptop, unable to sit still, and paced around the apartment. He wished there were something lying around on the floor that he could kick. He reviewed the conversation. Had he allowed his jealousy of that dweeby jerk to make him push her too hard?
He shook his head. No, there was something there. She would chat away and answer his questions, but when it came to nice, perfect William, she got tense. There was something about going to bed with William that was freaking her out.
Jack wanted to ask her more about the cave, and the spanking he had given her. He wanted to hear her impression of it, and he would get her to tell him, sooner or later. But first he had to deal with the dweeb and whatever it was about their relationship that was niggling at Abbie.
He poured himself a glass of whiskey, added some ice and went back to the computer. She was still offline, so he forced himself to answer a couple of e-mails. He even checked his Twitter account. Wow, two million followers and climbing. He added a quick tweet. ‘Just back from an evening out with the beautiful Kym Kardell. Think we managed to escape the paparazzi this time.’ That should keep Zeke happy.
His Yahoo icon flashed. Bingo. It was Abbie.
He paused before he answered. She could suffer a bit too.
He laughed so hard he almost choked on his drink. He was willing to bet that no one in her newspaper could come within an ass’s roar of Kym Kardell when it came to thinking about clothes and hair.
He smiled.
The image of Abbie in high heels and a skirt did predictable things to his cock. He took a drink and allowed himself a brief vision before he put his hands back on the keyboard.
He held his breath while he waited for her reply.
Wild orchid is typing.
Jack almost came on the spot. It took a huge effort of will to make himself type again.
He allowed that to sink in for a moment.
She couldn’t really object to that. Although with Abbie, he wouldn’t put money on it.
Wild orchid is typing.
Jack laughed. He was so looking forward to this
.
14
The call came just as she finished filing a story on the rise of Danish fashion designers. Abbie reached for her personal phone. Maybe it was Jack? A mad thought, but right now everything came back to him. When she saw Miffy’s name on her screen she was tempted to ignore it but there was no point postponing the inevitable.
‘Hi, Sis, is Dad OK?’
‘He’s fine. He’s taken JJ and Robyn for the weekend, so I thought that we might meet for lunch.’
Abbie glanced at her watch. It was almost noon and lunch was Miffy’s preferred setting for an ambush. She braced herself. ‘OK, where do you want to meet?’
‘Bergdorf Goodman, of course. It feels like ages since I saw you. I’ve got us a nice table where we can have a chat.’
She could just imagine it. Miffy’s favourite table was at the window with a view of Central Park. This wouldn’t be a casual lunch date, more like an interrogation. They hadn’t yet analysed her break-up with William. And she knew Miffy would have plenty to say about that.
Millicent was four years older than her but acted more like it was forty. She always thought that she knew what was best for her. Miffy had always been a bit bossy, but after their mother died, she went into overdrive. It was her way of coping. Most of the time Abbie didn’t let it get to her – at least, she thought she didn’t – but the prospect of having to come up with an acceptable version of what had happened with William filled her with dread. Still, it had to be done.
‘OK, but remember I’m at work, I can’t stay too long.’ Miffy never quite got the concept of working hours.
‘Wonderful.’ Miffy rambled on, not listening. ‘I’ll see you there at 1:15.’
It was 1:20 before Abbie raced through the homewares department on the seventh floor and into the crowded restaurant. The place was full of out-of-towners. At least it was loud. The sound would drown out Miffy’s constant complaints.
‘Abbie.’ Miffy stood up and air-kissed her on both cheeks. ‘Lovely to see you. I’ve ordered a glass of Veuve for both of us. Sit, sit, you can tell me everything that’s happened since poor William.’
Poor William? Abbie was about to turn round and go home again when a waiter materialized behind her, slid back her chair and Abbie took a seat, wincing as she was pinned against the table. There was no escape now.