Chapter 7 #2
Despite his resolve, guilt gnawed at the edges of his conscience. Memories of that night returned in flashes: her laughter, the warmth of her hand in his, the silent promise in her eyes.
Regret mingled with longing, making it impossible to disentangle the past from the present. He wondered if Abigail had struggled alone, facing each milestone in their daughter's life without him, and whether she had found the support she needed in his absence.
Instinctively, he knew she had. She lived with her parents. He had done his research. The brother, a twin, was a lawyer who lived on his own. But she had chosen to stay at the home she grew up in, had chosen to bring up their daughter there.
He wanted nights with Zoe, where he got to tuck her in bed and read her bedtime stories. He might be late to the table, but he had every intention of making up for it.
He would take her to museums, the park, and the zoo. Did she like popcorn? What was her favorite ice cream flavor? He intended to find out all of it.
Scrubbing his hands over his face, he decided that he wasn't going to get any more sleep. Swinging his legs off the bed, he padded into the bathroom. A shower and then some work to take his mind off the upcoming meeting.
*****
He wasn't the only one wide awake.
Abby spent the night twisting and turning in bed. She had gotten up to check on Zoe several times. The conversation between them came flooding back.
She had picked her up from ballet practice and suggested they go for ice cream. Because it was too cold for a walk in the park, she had taken her home and sat inside her bedroom and told her the truth.
Her father wanted to meet her.
"My father?" She had looked fascinated, eyes huge. "Where is he?"
She had told her little girl that he had been away for a while and now he was back.
"How come he went away?"
"He did not know about you."
"You didn't tell him?" Zoe had given her a curious stare.
"No. He went away before I found out I was carrying you inside my tummy."
"Why didn't you tell him? Were you mad at him?"
She had forgotten how smart her daughter was.
"A little bit. But I had no idea where he was." She reached for Zoe's small hands. "And I was scared. I had you growing inside my tummy and did not know what to do."
"Did it hurt? When I was growing inside your tummy, did it hurt?"
Trust the child to think about something like that, she mused.
"Not really. I would get sick all the time, and some things tasted really awful."
"I'm sorry, Mama."
"Oh, honey." She had broken down and hauled the little girl into her arms. After a while of rocking and silence, she asked the question. "Would you like to meet him?"
Zoe nodded. "Is he that man that came to the bookstore? The one with the dark hair and pretty face?"
Abby smiled despite the fact that she wanted to weep. "How observant of you. Why do you think it's him?"
She had looked solemn. "He looks like me." She pointed to the dimple on her cheek. "He smiled, and I saw it. And we have the same eyebrows."
Abby brushed a stray curl from Zoe's forehead and let out a shaky breath. "You're very clever, sweetheart. Yes, that's him. He wanted to meet you, to get to know you."
She watched her daughter's expression carefully, searching for any hint of fear or excitement. "If you'd like, we can all sit down together soon. Only if you want to, though."
"I want to, Mama. When?"
Abby felt the pain twisting her heart. Deep inside her, she had wanted her little girl to hesitate and felt ashamed. Her brother was right. She had to start thinking about Zoe and push aside her resentment towards Kincaid Tyrell. It wasn't about her.
"Very soon."
*****
He tried working, but that wasn't happening. Oh, he pretended. In the last month or more since he had taken over and attempted to try and salvage the publishing house, he had made incredible strides.
The board was now singing his praises, and his parents were shaking their heads at how quickly he had accomplished what he set out to do.
"It only proves what we always thought. You're a genius." His mother had told him proudly.
He had gotten rid of the top-heavy management team and brought in some new blood. In the process of going through the changes, he had discovered three incredibly good manuscripts. Two were going to be turned into movies.
He had also made physical changes to the place, cosmetic work, changing the drab into the cheerful. The publishing house sat on a prime piece of land, underdeveloped and overgrown. He had hired a team of landscapers to fix that. The result was stunning.
Benches were strewn along cobbled walkways, beneath oaks and redwood trees. A fountain trickling ice-cold water led to a meandering path that he had decided to call 'A Walk Through Shakespeare's Life.'
He had ideas of reenacting a Victorian scene, which would be done in the spring. He had also changed the name. It was now The New Age Publishing House.
He had hired an assistant and gotten rid of the busty blonde.
Lilith Cameron was in her sixties with natural black hair, the white streaking through the strands reminding him of black pepper mixed with salt. She was tall and strapping and spoke her mind without fear. He was terrified of her.
She had been selected from a host of candidates sent over by a reputable agency and had proven her mettle the very first day. Not only was she in possession of a very impressive CV, but she told him bluntly that he would never be in danger of her trying to slide onto his desk for a quickie.
She was too old and too jaded to be dazzled by his looks and his money. She also knew publishing inside and out since she had worked as an editor most of her life.
She had taken early retirement to take care of her ailing husband.
"The bastard did not deserve an ounce of my time, seeing as he cheated on me three times, but I'm a decent human being, and when he was diagnosed, I was his only hope. All the other skanks he banged disappeared. I was the only one left, of course."
"So I did my duty. I took care of him, buried him, and now I'm back to live my own life." Her chocolate brown eyes had wandered over his face.
"I have read about you and know your reputation. That has nothing to do with me. Unless you start looking in my direction and seeing the women you were involved with, I'm pretty confident that's not going to happen."
"I'm loyal, and the best thing is I'm prepared to work, and I can spell." His mouth had twitched at that.
He had hired her, of course, and that was the best thing he had ever done. She was a treasure, and she kept everyone out of his way if he needed it. Not to mention everyone was afraid of her.
She did not gossip and never encouraged it. She ruthlessly organized his life and had unearthed another bestseller that was now in the process of being edited.
"I'm expecting an... er... someone at ten."
She had merely looked up from her desktop and offered him a cool look that had him almost blushing.
"Does this someone have an actual name?"
"Yes, of course. Ms. Abigail Blake."
"From that delightful bookstore on Bow Street." She made a notation. "Will she be requiring refreshments?"
The question floored him. Was this the kind of meeting that would require him feeding her? Would she be comfortable sitting down long enough to be served? He decided it was not.
"No. Just show her in."
With a nod, she went back to her typing. He had retreated to his office and pretended to work. His sister had called him twice already, and he was ready to snarl at her. He had desperately advised Lilith not to put through any more calls to him for now.
Now he was drumming his fingers on the polished wood and cursing himself for being so damned nervous and edgy. He could not afford to show nerves.
He glanced at the clock and realized he still had a few minutes before her scheduled arrival.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to compose himself, running through possible conversation starters and mentally rehearsing how he would present his appeals and what he needed from her regarding his daughter.
He certainly did not want to pose it as demands, but he wanted to be fully involved in the child's life. The anticipation made the office seem both too quiet and unbearably charged, every tick of the clock amplifying his restless energy.
Taking in another deep breath, he shoved from his desk and walked over to pour a cup of coffee. The coffee pot was new and made fresh every morning by his dragon of an assistant.
There was now a small kitchenette and a part-time cook hired to supply nutritious fare for everyone. They were usually required to work until way past closing time, especially with the winter season approaching.
Taking the cup with him, he walked back to his desk in time to answer the intercom.
"Yes." His voice was unintentionally terse.
"Your appointment is here with company."
His first thought was that she had brought a lawyer, her brother. His anger rose. Pushing from his desk, he strode to open the door with the intention of firing at her.