Penmort Castle (Ghosts and Reincarnation #1)(98)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“I’ll drive,” Cassandra offered.

“All right then, see you soon,” Jenny said and they rang off.

Jenny flipped her phone shut and put it on the table.

“Well, one thing’s certain,” she told her phone. “I’m not worried about the fertility clinic anymore.”

Jenny’s phone had no response.

* * * * *

Abby walked into Cash’s offices and saw him immediately.

He was behind a glass wall in a conference room with at least a dozen other people. He was sitting at the head of the table wearing one of his impeccably tailored suits, this one black with a shirt of deep grey and a fantastic black tie with a grey and red pattern on it. He had a heavy, expensive-looking black pen with gold accents in his fingers. He was upending it, the pen sliding through his fingers, only for him to catch it at the tip and upend it again.

Someone was standing at the foot of the table speaking to the group and there were charts projected on the wall behind him. Cash’s attention was focused on the speaker but Abby had only taken a few steps into the reception area when Cash’s head turned and his black eyes hit her.

She’d been in a clothing crisis all morning not knowing what to wear to this meeting, especially since it was at Cash’s office.

It was one thing when she was getting paid to be his girlfriend and going out to dinner at restaurants surrounded by people they didn’t know. It was another to be his girlfriend and go to his office where all his staff could see (and judge) her.

She’d decided professional class was her best bet. But even when she was working she rarely wore traditional suits. Instead, she dressed, as Ben used to say, like Princess Diana with attitude (but without the hats).

That day she chose one of her old work suits. A soft fawn colour with a fitted skirt, the hem brushed her knees and it had slits up each side. One of the reasons she bought the suit was that the jacket fit like it was made for her, had a nipped-in waist and a succession of smart, intricate pleats falling from her waist at the back. She wore this with a shiny, cream satin blouse that she always unbuttoned just one button below professional, as she did today. She’d put on her mocha suede high-heeled boots, matching wide belt and you could see a hint of flesh-coloured fishnet stockings covering her knees between the top of the boots and the hem of the skirt. She wore her pearl earrings and choker her parents gave her for her wedding and her gold watch. She had blown her hair dry sleek, left it long and did her makeup in her “Edgy Professional” look. Lastly, she’d worn her mother’s taupe coat but had taken it off on the way up in the elevator and now it was over her forearm, her mocha, patent-leather clutch shoved under her arm.

She held her breath as Cash’s eyes did a sweep of her finally coming to rest on her face.

Then she watched him smile a slow, lazy, gorgeous smile and she felt that smile shoot straight from her heart, through her belly, right between her legs.

Then Abby heard, “Can I help you?”

Tearing her gaze with some difficulty from Cash’s smile, Abby turned her head to the young, attractive, very professionally dressed woman seated behind the reception desk and Abby moved toward her.

“I’m Abigail Butler. I’m here –” Abby started but the girl shot out of her seat.

“Abby. Right,” she said, rounding her desk, “Cash said you were coming.” Her head tilted to the conference room and she continued. “As you can see, he’s in a meeting but he’ll be out in a minute.” She motioned toward a hallway, walking ahead, obviously expecting Abby to follow (which she did) and went on. “I’ll take you to his office. Can I get you a coffee? We have an espresso machine. I can make you a latte or cappuccino.”

“Just a regular coffee, white and strong, if you don’t mind,” Abby replied as the woman turned to a door, opened it and led Abby in.

Abby took two steps in and halted.

It was an enormous corner office with a stunning view of Bath afforded from all of its many windows. The desk was huge, messy, covered in papers, file folders, some opened, some stacked, two phones (who needed two phones?) and Cash’s laptop.

Outside the messy desk, the rest of the office was immaculate. Just as she’d noticed in the reception area and hall, the décor was a successful mixture of traditional and modern. Wood panelled walls, heavy, elegant furniture but with modern art, fixtures and fittings.

His office not only held his desk but two large, black leather chairs facing it. There was a stylish but comfortable-looking couch with a low table in front of it against one wall as well as a smaller conference table that accommodated six to the other side. One entire wall was taken up with a built-in unit with illuminated shelves, one containing glasses, a wider one containing decanters of liquor, still others containing interesting bronze sculptures and there was even a counter with a sink as well as several spaces covered with doors and all the doors had locks.

“White coffee. Strong,” the woman said, “be right back.” And Abby turned to see her rushing out.

“Wait,” Abby called.

The woman stopped and looked back at Abby.

Abby smiled. “I didn’t get your name.”

The woman blinked at her then said, “Emma.”

At this news, Abby winced and muttered, “Oh dear,” and watched Emma blink again as Abby moved to her, “I think I might need to apologise.”

Emma was looking at her as if a spaceship was hovering outside Cash’s windows and Abby had just stepped off of it.

“Sorry?” Emma asked.

“The other day, when Moira got in an accident, you called and I didn’t let you finish. I think Cash got a little –” Abby explained and Emma cut her off.

“It’s okay,” she said quickly but shutters had come down over her eyes telling Abby that she did, indeed, get into trouble and it was anything but okay.

Therefore, Abby blurted, “My husband was killed in a car accident.” She watched Emma give a start and Abby went on. “Four years ago. I overreacted when you called. Panicked really. I tried to explain that to Cash and that I hadn’t let you finish but he was a bit, um…” How could she explain it? She tried to be tactful. “Put out that I was in that state.”

Emma regarded her for a moment then Abby watched as her gaze unshuttered and her eyes went soft. “I get it now and that’s understandable.”

“Still, I’m sorry,” Abby pressed and Emma smiled at her.