Flawlessly Executed (Dark Horse Guardians Book 3) by Ava Armstrong Page B
Authors: Ava Armstrong
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at the university displaying her goods, he’d notice. She remembered how sensual a creature he was, pushing her up against the wall French kissing her. He was the guy she wished she had married.
Ross, the West Point whiz kid was the man her parents wanted her to marry, but the relationship had been less than ideal. As a secret service employee, Ross was gone most of the time and Abby soon found out he was sleeping with women on the side every chance he got. Apparently that behavior was common practice and even laughed about in private conversations in his line of work.
The final straw was Ross having sex with a hooker who ended up stealing his wallet and all of his clothing. Not only was it embarrassing, it was inconvenient. At the time he was in Chicago without a wallet or any form of identification. He had to wrap a bed sheet around himself and call the police. Then he had to call Abby to explain, but by then she was tired of his antics and excuses. She was done with him.
Now thirty years old and single, Abby had been on the dating circuit for two years and wasn’t impressed. If the guy wasn’t a gym rat or a motor head, he was married or had an ex-wife with kids and child-support payments. The last few dates she went on were less than appealing. She kicked herself for allowing her parents to manipulate her when she wanted to date Ben Keegan. But pining away about the past wasn’t going to get her back with Ben Keegan, or would it?
Maybe reminiscing about the good old days was exactly where she needed to start with him. As she sat on the sofa in the beautiful pink Victorian gazing upon the flower garden, ideas began forming in her mind. She walked across the room to the cedar chest filled with mementos from her past and started combing through it. She found the bundle of notes that Ben had written in high school and the many photos of their escapades. Her favorite was the one Ben took of her topless on his 1940 Indian motorcycle. She brought the mementos to a local photography shop and had them transferred to a flash drive. Then she drove to a small town just North of Boston that night for a session with her psychologist, Doctor Duncan Norris.
~ Duncan Norris ~
He was excited and happy that Abby kept her early evening appointment with him tonight, even though she had recently moved to Maine. He knew she must be feeling lonely and that meant she needed his help even more. As a practicing psychologist for fifteen years, he had seen many troubled clients. He dealt with everything from mild depression to bi-polar episodes, but Abby was a unique patient and he wanted to keep her.
She had come to him when her divorce was underway suffering from depression and anxiety. But very soon he discovered how easily he could manipulate her. And, as long as no one knew about it, what was the harm? She was a consenting adult and she came to him willingly for these Sunday evening appointments. He didn’t even charge her. They were off the books, so to speak. She showed up and he helped her.
Now approaching fifty, Duncan Norris was a lonely man. What good looks he had were gone. He had always been short, but now he was gaining weight and losing his hair. To make matters worse, his physician told him he had to give up alcohol due to a liver condition. His wife had walked out on him two years ago. Vulnerable, he had allowed himself to become attached to Abby, fully knowing it could end his career. But he didn’t want to think about that right now. What he wanted to think about was Abby, waltzing up the sidewalk to his back entrance.
He ran to the door to let her in and locked it securely behind her. “You’re right on time.” He smiled and guided her to the sofa. She seemed to be most comfortable there.
He scurried to his desk and offered her a glass of water. Her smile was intoxicating, “Yes, I’d love some water. I’m parched.”
He poured her a tall glass and handed it to her before he sat back down. He was already
Ross, the West Point whiz kid was the man her parents wanted her to marry, but the relationship had been less than ideal. As a secret service employee, Ross was gone most of the time and Abby soon found out he was sleeping with women on the side every chance he got. Apparently that behavior was common practice and even laughed about in private conversations in his line of work.
The final straw was Ross having sex with a hooker who ended up stealing his wallet and all of his clothing. Not only was it embarrassing, it was inconvenient. At the time he was in Chicago without a wallet or any form of identification. He had to wrap a bed sheet around himself and call the police. Then he had to call Abby to explain, but by then she was tired of his antics and excuses. She was done with him.
Now thirty years old and single, Abby had been on the dating circuit for two years and wasn’t impressed. If the guy wasn’t a gym rat or a motor head, he was married or had an ex-wife with kids and child-support payments. The last few dates she went on were less than appealing. She kicked herself for allowing her parents to manipulate her when she wanted to date Ben Keegan. But pining away about the past wasn’t going to get her back with Ben Keegan, or would it?
Maybe reminiscing about the good old days was exactly where she needed to start with him. As she sat on the sofa in the beautiful pink Victorian gazing upon the flower garden, ideas began forming in her mind. She walked across the room to the cedar chest filled with mementos from her past and started combing through it. She found the bundle of notes that Ben had written in high school and the many photos of their escapades. Her favorite was the one Ben took of her topless on his 1940 Indian motorcycle. She brought the mementos to a local photography shop and had them transferred to a flash drive. Then she drove to a small town just North of Boston that night for a session with her psychologist, Doctor Duncan Norris.
~ Duncan Norris ~
He was excited and happy that Abby kept her early evening appointment with him tonight, even though she had recently moved to Maine. He knew she must be feeling lonely and that meant she needed his help even more. As a practicing psychologist for fifteen years, he had seen many troubled clients. He dealt with everything from mild depression to bi-polar episodes, but Abby was a unique patient and he wanted to keep her.
She had come to him when her divorce was underway suffering from depression and anxiety. But very soon he discovered how easily he could manipulate her. And, as long as no one knew about it, what was the harm? She was a consenting adult and she came to him willingly for these Sunday evening appointments. He didn’t even charge her. They were off the books, so to speak. She showed up and he helped her.
Now approaching fifty, Duncan Norris was a lonely man. What good looks he had were gone. He had always been short, but now he was gaining weight and losing his hair. To make matters worse, his physician told him he had to give up alcohol due to a liver condition. His wife had walked out on him two years ago. Vulnerable, he had allowed himself to become attached to Abby, fully knowing it could end his career. But he didn’t want to think about that right now. What he wanted to think about was Abby, waltzing up the sidewalk to his back entrance.
He ran to the door to let her in and locked it securely behind her. “You’re right on time.” He smiled and guided her to the sofa. She seemed to be most comfortable there.
He scurried to his desk and offered her a glass of water. Her smile was intoxicating, “Yes, I’d love some water. I’m parched.”
He poured her a tall glass and handed it to her before he sat back down. He was already
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