by Nina West
He hangs up before I can respond. I’m left staring at my phone, a mixture of shock, confusion, and excitement overwhelming me. I’m going to see Henry again, tonight?
I’m going to see Henry tonight.
I glance back at our stand. A few people rifle through the stack, searching for the best cobs from what’s left. Is it wrong for me to leave for the night?
I quickly dial the Pearl and cross my fingers that Aunt May isn’t too busy to answer.
“The Pearl, what can I do for you?”
“Hey.”
“Abigail?”
“Yeah.” I hesitate. “I have a favor to ask.”
The phone fills with her sigh. “When are you leaving?”
“At six?” How did she know?
“Okay. I can wrap up the busy stretch and get Chrissy to close up.” Chrissy and my aunt have been best friends for years. She’s at the Pearl almost as much at May is. “I’ll have to leave early in the morning though, what with the after-church rush.”
Sunday church. “Shit!” I totally forgot.
“Gesundheit.” That’s Aunt May’s way of responding to a cuss word. It’s her gentle way of scolding me.
“Sorry, it’s just, I forgot tomorrow was Sunday. It’s Daddy’s first service back. Mama’s gonna have a meltdown if I’m not there.” I’m on the verge of tears as reality sets in. I knew this wasn’t going to happen.
I’m not going to see Henry. I had better call him back before he gets on his plane.
“Abigail?”
I sigh, my disappointment overwhelming. “Yeah?”
“Would you rather go to church or see Henry?”
“See Henry.” I don’t miss a beat.
“Then that’s what you should do. You can talk to God anywhere. You can be a good person anywhere. You don’t need four walls and a reverend telling you right from wrong to be a good person or to talk to God.”
“But Mama—”
“Will survive. Just maybe don’t mention that you’re going until your bag is in the car. Save yourself the headache. But remember….”
“You’ll deny deny deny.” I smile. “Thanks, Aunt May.”
“I’ll be there for around eight. I’ll even bring leftovers. What time will you be back?”
“I don’t know, exactly. Afternoon? Evening?”
“Okay. We’ll plan for evening. You go and have fun.”
I hang up. And smile.
A night with Henry in a hotel. My first night staying with Henry. No Mama, no hiding from employees. It sounds like heaven. I just have to pass through hell first to get there.
Mama must mistake my dread over telling her for heartache, because the second I return to the corn stand, she’s reaching for me, rubbing my back soothingly. “Now, now. It’ll hurt for a while, but you’ll get over it soon enough and you’ll be so thankful.” She clucks her tongue. “I’m just glad that man found someone else. You don’t need the likes of him. You’ve got exactly what you need right over there.” She nods toward Jed, who’s tossing the last few cobs left—picked over and good for nothing but the animals now—into a box.
She’s the Terminator.
She won’t ever stop.
“We’ll get home and clean up, then head over to the Enderbeys’ for dinner. And after that, the Baldwins are coming over. You can take your Daddy’s spot if he’s not up to playin’ bridge.”
I cringe. Bridge with the Baldwins almost always results in Mrs. Baldwin asking me about my menstruation cycle and Mr. Baldwin staring at my breasts without shame. Those two are plain fucking weird.
I don’t say a word. I simply collect the money box and head for my truck, trying to hide the slight bounce in my step.
Chapter Eight
“Abigail! Time to head over!”
I smooth the cute cream-colored lace dress over my hips one more time, studying my reflection in my mirror. It was an impulse purchase, on my way home from visiting my dad in the hospital. I saw it on a mannequin in a window display and had to get it. It’s much shorter than anything I’ve ever worn, but it makes my legs look long, especially in the strappy sandals I bought to go with it. And with the faded denim jacket that the sales girl convinced me to buy?
I actually look stylish.
Is it enough for New York City and Henry, though?
I tried to mimic what Rachel and Katie did with my makeup that night of the grand opening. While it’s nowhere near as good, I think I look decent.
Grabbing the small duffel bag that I stuffed with a change of clothes and my toiletries, I take a deep breath and head down the stairs.
“We’re a few minutes late but I’m sure they’ll understand, what with your father—” Her words die on her tongue as she sizes me up from head to toe. “You can’t go anywhere dressed like that.”
“I’m going to New York for the night. Aunt May will be here around eight to help you with Daddy if you need it, and again tomorrow.” I don’t wait for her response. I keep walking toward the door, my bag slung over my shoulder.
She can move fast when she wants to, practically on my heels all the way out the door. “You are not going to New York City!”
Jed is helping my dad into the back of the Enderbeys’ Oldsmobile. They both turn to see the commotion.
“No… you’re not! Your daddy just got out of the hospital two days ago! You need to be here to help take care of him!” She reaches for my duffel bag.
“Stop it, Mama!” I step out of her reach. “Like I said, Aunt May is coming to help. You’ll be fine. I just need to get away for a night.”
Her head is shaking before words even come out. “I will not have my daughter comin’ and goin’ as she pleases and shackin’ up with a grown man. We did not raise you to sin like this!”
“I’m not ‘shackin’ up’ with anyone!”
“Oh? And where exactly do you think you’re going to be sleeping?”
She knows exactly where I’m going to stay and I really don’t want to have this conversation with her at all, but especially not in front of Daddy. “I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
Her mouth drops open in shock. What did she expect me to say? Okay, Mama! I’ll stay. “Roger! Tell her she can’t go!”
“She’s a grown woman. I can’t tell her that.”
She shoots him with a glare before turning her wrath back on me. “You need to be at church tomorrow. It’s your father’s first day back. Roger, she’s going to miss your first day back! Say something!”
He heaves a sigh of exasperation. “So, she’ll be there next Sunday.”
Her hand flies to her chest, over her heart, as if she’s in pain. “You’re just going to let your daughter drive five hours to New York City on a Saturday night?” To me, she glares. “I thought you said he cared about your safety.”
“I’m not driving. He’s picking me up.” Every argument she lobs out, I have a counter to it. But it doesn’t matter. It’ll never matter with her. “I’m going, Mama. I’m going and there’s nothing you can say or do to stop me.”
She huffs and puffs, but can’t find her words.
“Stop it! You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.”
“No! My daughter is going to give me a heart attack, dressed like that. You look absolutely ridiculous! Your dress barely covers your behind! Did he buy that for you, too?”
I self-consciously tug at the bottom of it, suddenly not feeling so stylish. “No, I bought this myself.”
“This isn’t you!” The pain on her face is genuine. “Next thing we know, you’ll be collecting money on the corner.”
“Bernadette!” my dad roars.
My mouth drops open. “Now you are being ridiculous, Mama.”
“How are you getting to New York?” Jed interrupts, squinting up at the sky.
“In his plane.” At least, I assume we are. He wouldn’t be arriving until eleven otherwise. I squint to see what Jed’s focused on. Is that…?
“Are you fucking kidding me!” Jed excl
aims, his tone full of annoyance.
“Jed!” Mama scolds, but he doesn’t even attempt an apology, his expression turning sour as the sleek black helicopter approaches, the whirl of its blades growing louder.
Good God. We’re going in a helicopter?
It’s coming down on a flat grassy field to our right, its descent slow. Dust kicks up in a cloud around it. We’re standing too far to be caught up in it, but the wind reaches us, catching the bottom of my dress. I have to hold it down until the helicopter has landed and the propeller cuts off.
I stare at the Wolf company logo spanning the side of it in disbelief. Of course he owns a helicopter, too.
The door pops open and Henry climbs out, catching my breath with the easy, sleek way he moves.
“You get in that thing and you’ll be choosin’ him over your own family,” Mama warns, the scorn in her tone cutting.
He begins walking toward me. He means to come here.
I can’t have him coming here, not with Mama behaving the way she is.
“Bye, Mama. Bye, Daddy! Jed!” I sling my bag over my shoulder and start running, the grass tickling my bare toes through my sandals. Henry’s in dress pants and a charcoal button-down shirt, the collar unfastened. He must have come straight from whatever Saturday meetings he had, and he looks delicious.
And he’s all mine tonight.
I smile as I accept that, closing in on the helicopter. His gaze roams over me, lingering over my chest with that look I’m beginning to recognize. He’s picturing my breasts when they’re bare and bouncing under him.
I plow right into his hard body and his arms as they wrap around me. Just the smell of his cologne brings me such comfort right now.
“Should we go over and say hello?”
“Let’s just go.” I plead with my eyes. Please don’t ask questions.
His gaze flickers over to my parents, to my mother, standing there with her fists resting on her hips, a scowl reserved for the devil himself furrowing her brow. “You got it.” With a polite wave their way—I turn back in time to see that my dad actually waves back—he takes my bag from my hand and helps me climb into the helicopter’s small interior. I’m not sure that I’m ready for this. And my dress is definitely too short for this, I note, feeling the breeze behind me.
Crawling into my seat—one of four—I give the pilot a nervous smile. Had anyone told me in May that by August I’d be flying around in a helicopter, I would have laughed.
Had they told me that I’d be in love with another man, I wouldn’t have believed them.
But I am. Madly.
“Good to go?” The pilot asks Henry.
“Abbi?” Henry’s questioning gaze is on me.
With one last glance at my parents and Jed, who looks like he just found his dog dead at his feet, his face a mask of sadness and resignation, I nod.
And whisper, “No, Mama. I’m choosing me.”
~ ~ ~
The pilot brings the helicopter down on the rooftop of the Wolf Tower just two hours later, the sky orange with a spectacular sunset.
At least, I think it’s been two hours. I haven’t actually been paying attention, too mesmerized by the view below us, a smile on my face the entire time.
I’ve spent three years in Chicago, so I can say that I’ve lived in “a big city.” And yet New York is something altogether different, a looming, overwhelming force, a sea of architecture stretching out in every direction. High rises are a dime a dozen here, blocks and blocks of them lining streets filled with an army of yellow cabs.
This is Henry’s world.
It’s completely different side from the one I saw in Alaska—a vast expanse of wilderness and peace, a link to his childhood. A place where he was still rich and powerful, and yet it felt somehow removed from the world. A place where we found a connection.
Here, some eighty stories in the air of a sleek building he owns, stepping off a helicopter and heading for the two-level glass penthouse I saw on our approach, nothing about him seems subdued or understated. Even the air around him feels suddenly different here.
Can I ever possibly fit into this world?
I watch Henry shake the pilot’s hand with more than a hint of awe, unable to stop from asking myself what he’s doing with a twenty-one-year-old farm girl from Pennsylvania.
“What time will you need me tomorrow?” the pilot asks.
“Around seven tomorrow night. Thank you.”
My stomach does a small flip. I get him for an entire day, too.
The pilot gives us a small salute and then continues on his task of flicking switches and checking things on the dashboard.
“Come.” Henry slips his hand through mine and leads me toward a door. He uses a key card to get us in, and then it’s a series of steps and a narrow hall, until we’re walking through another door. Cameras watch our moves from above, I note, as he uses his key again to get us through another set of doors and into a bright and spacious foyer of cool gray marble and white walls. My mouth can’t help but drop open as I take in the sprawling place with awe. The exterior walls are all glass. All of them, giving me a spectacular panoramic view of Manhattan’s skyline. The penthouse itself is sleek and modern, mostly black and white in décor, with a few hints of color—a bronzed lamp base, crimson cushions, a thin strip of silver along the bottoms of the sheer drapes—to give it some personality.
So completely opposite to my family’s farm.
“So this is your penthouse.” In Wolf Tower, the tallest mixed residential and hotel building in the city.
“It is.” He tosses his keys and wallet onto a heavy-footed round table.
The table he had sex with his ex-assistant on, I realize. I look up at the ceiling, searching for the camera that captured it all, that provided him with leverage when she was blackmailing him for money and accusing him of assaulting her.
“It’s to the left, behind the molding.” There’s definite humor in Henry’s voice. He’s not the least bit ashamed of anything he’s done in the past. I wish I could be the same.
I can’t help but look at that table and flinch, picturing Henry stepping out of that elevator right there to find a naked woman sprawled out across it. Him, with heat sparking in his cold blue eyes, tossing his things as he just did, unbuckling his dress pants, and diving right into her without so much as a kiss. Women don’t need foreplay with Henry.
Just looking at him is foreplay.
“Are there any more in here?” I trail him in, feeling completely out of my element as I scope out the all-white kitchen to the left and the large outdoor patio to the right.
“No. Not unless you would like there to be. That can easily be arranged.”
I know he’s not talking about security cameras now.
He heads for the tall crystal decanter of amber liquid, pouring himself what I’m assuming is Scotch. But he leaves it there to sit and goes to the kitchen. “Red or white?” When he turns to see my confused look, he adds, “Wine. Red or white wine?”
“Um....” I swallow, admitting with some embarrassment, “I’ve never had either.”
With a deep sigh, he pulls a bottle from a narrow fridge below the counter. “Let’s go with a Pinot Grigio. It’s probably safer for that dress.”
I watch with fascination as he uncorks the bottle and pours into a tall, sleek glass. Swirling the yellowish liquid around in the bowl a few times, he then slides it forward to me. “Try that. See if you like it.”
“It’s....” I smack my lips with the first taste, the cool, crisp flavor reminding me of fruit. “It tastes like apples.”
He smirks. “You thought all wine would taste like grape juice, didn’t you?”
“No.” Yes.
He replaces the bottle in the fridge. “We should talk.”
The sudden seriousness in his voice makes my stomach tighten. Those three words sound ominous. They sound like they’re going to end with me heartbroken.
I take a deep, calming breath. Get it toget
her, Abbi.
He retrieves his glass of Scotch and then comes over to lean across the island, his fingertip tracing the grain in the marble countertop. “I don’t want to be the cause of issues with your parents.”
“You’re not.”
Henry’s dark brow arches.
“It’s just my mother. My father wants me to be happy.”
“I’m sure your mother does, too.”
“In her own way. But that’s the thing. I’ll never be happy trying to please her. I’m not the same person I was before, and I don’t want the life she wants for me. She’s gonna have to accept that, or....” I shrug. “I don’t know what. But she’s gonna have to accept it.”
He hesitates. “So if I wasn’t in your life, you wouldn’t be back with fuckface and taking over the farm?”
I shake my head, even as inside that voice is screaming at him not to even suggest things like him not being in my life.
He takes a long sip of his drink, his face thoughtful. “I know what it’s like to not have a mother in my life. I don’t want to be the cause of that for you.”
I slide my hand over his, the raw truth in his words painful. “You’re not going to be. She’s not going anywhere, trust me. She may keep fighting, trying to get what she wants, but she’s not going to pack her bags and leave.” Where would she even go?
“But is that what you want to be doing? Years from now? Fighting with her, still? I don’t think it is, Abbi.”
“If it’s not over you, it’ll be someone else. Anyone who isn’t Jed.”
What is this? Is he starting to reconsider us because of Mama? Maybe he doesn’t want to deal with it. Maybe it’s not worth it to him.
God, I’m going to drive myself crazy if I assume he’s breaking up with me every time we have a conversation. This is the kind of insecurity he doesn’t like.
“Come.” He takes my hand and leads me through the main floor, showing me the various rooms—the private, fully equipped gym, the twenty-seat theatre room, a double-story library attached to his own personal office. He doesn’t highlight all the specific details, like the Brazilian rosewood and travertine marble halls, but I notice all the delectable, rich details.
Upstairs are three massive bedrooms, his being the largest. All feel airy, the furniture not too bulky, the fabrics subtle and soft.