interpretation of Abby’s silence. “Are you going to sleep with him again?” Her friend followed up with a sly little drawl.
“No! No…fuck…I don’t know…I think…” She raked her fingers across her scalp. “I think I want to come home.”
“You can’t.”
“Why not?” Abby whined.
“Because. One, you are a tax professional. I stress the word professional . Two, it isn’t going to hurt you to figure this thing with Marcus out. And three.” She put in forcefully when Abby started to protest. “Three. Nicky rang today.”
Abby gripped the phone as the floor seemed to disappear beneath her feet. “Nicky?”
“Yes. Sorry Abby, but unless you’re ready to have a heart to heart with your sister, you’re better off not being here. ’Cos I’m telling you, she’s not giving up.”
“Fuck.”
“Exactly.”
Okay. It looked like Abby was staying in Wellsford a little longer. Because if she had to choose between seeing her sister again and spending another couple of weeks with Marcus? Marcus won hands down. No contest. Three years wasn’t long enough to get over what her family had done. Hell, several lifetimes wouldn’t be sufficient.
She hoped Marcus wouldn’t cause her to regret that decision. Which meant Abby needed to set a few things straight, because so far every move he’d made had been a Bobby Fischer special. Calculated. She had to stay one step ahead.
“Just so you know, I will require any further meetings between us to be scheduled.”
“Oh?” Marcus’s head came up as Abby entered his office without knocking and stated her demands.
“Constant interruptions are a distraction I cannot work with, not if you want me to complete this project in a timely manner.”
Marcus stared at her, unmoved. “Bending the rules again, Ms. Harness?”
“Neither was the dictatorial management style you seem to be displaying,” she challenged.
Marcus exhaled and shook his head. “Fine. I’ll set up some calendar meeting times and email them through.”
Abby’s gaze homed in on the smug smile flirting about his mouth. “Fine,” she snapped, executing a stiff about turn and stalking back to her office.
Ten minutes later she knew exactly where his self-satisfied air had come from. Meeting requests started pinging into her inbox, one after another. He was blocking out ten minute meetings with her every two hours, stretching far into the unforeseen future.
“Ridiculous man,” Abby muttered, setting about declining each and every one of them. She clicked open a new email and composed a message. A ten minute heads-up before you require a meeting will suffice. Clicked send.
“Agreed.”
Abby just about fell off her seat when Marcus spoke from the doorway. He waved his phone at her, from which he was reading her email. Irritation pricked when he smirked at her obvious discomfort. She rose from her seat, barely restraining herself from slamming the door in his face.
“Ten minutes,” she barked as she clicked the door shut.
Marcus’s laughter followed her all the way back to her desk.
By the end of the week, Marcus was left wondering whether he’d played it wrong. Maybe he’d pushed Abby too hard, or maybe he wasn’t pushing hard enough.
True to her word, she refused to see him unless he gave her a ten minute warning. And every time they did meet, she retreated behind a thick, professional veneer. Untouchable. Which only made Marcus want her more. His focus on the end game was the only thing stopping him from completely flipping his shit.
The end game. Initially, it’d been about wanting to know Abby and getting her to let him in. But time was catching up and his chances of winning her were dwindling with each passing day. He needed a win. Any win.
Marcus pressed his fingers against his eyelids. His usual strategy would be to keep upping the ante until something broke and he found a way in. Yet something stopped him where Abby was concerned. While most of the time she had her
“No! No…fuck…I don’t know…I think…” She raked her fingers across her scalp. “I think I want to come home.”
“You can’t.”
“Why not?” Abby whined.
“Because. One, you are a tax professional. I stress the word professional . Two, it isn’t going to hurt you to figure this thing with Marcus out. And three.” She put in forcefully when Abby started to protest. “Three. Nicky rang today.”
Abby gripped the phone as the floor seemed to disappear beneath her feet. “Nicky?”
“Yes. Sorry Abby, but unless you’re ready to have a heart to heart with your sister, you’re better off not being here. ’Cos I’m telling you, she’s not giving up.”
“Fuck.”
“Exactly.”
Okay. It looked like Abby was staying in Wellsford a little longer. Because if she had to choose between seeing her sister again and spending another couple of weeks with Marcus? Marcus won hands down. No contest. Three years wasn’t long enough to get over what her family had done. Hell, several lifetimes wouldn’t be sufficient.
She hoped Marcus wouldn’t cause her to regret that decision. Which meant Abby needed to set a few things straight, because so far every move he’d made had been a Bobby Fischer special. Calculated. She had to stay one step ahead.
“Just so you know, I will require any further meetings between us to be scheduled.”
“Oh?” Marcus’s head came up as Abby entered his office without knocking and stated her demands.
“Constant interruptions are a distraction I cannot work with, not if you want me to complete this project in a timely manner.”
Marcus stared at her, unmoved. “Bending the rules again, Ms. Harness?”
“Neither was the dictatorial management style you seem to be displaying,” she challenged.
Marcus exhaled and shook his head. “Fine. I’ll set up some calendar meeting times and email them through.”
Abby’s gaze homed in on the smug smile flirting about his mouth. “Fine,” she snapped, executing a stiff about turn and stalking back to her office.
Ten minutes later she knew exactly where his self-satisfied air had come from. Meeting requests started pinging into her inbox, one after another. He was blocking out ten minute meetings with her every two hours, stretching far into the unforeseen future.
“Ridiculous man,” Abby muttered, setting about declining each and every one of them. She clicked open a new email and composed a message. A ten minute heads-up before you require a meeting will suffice. Clicked send.
“Agreed.”
Abby just about fell off her seat when Marcus spoke from the doorway. He waved his phone at her, from which he was reading her email. Irritation pricked when he smirked at her obvious discomfort. She rose from her seat, barely restraining herself from slamming the door in his face.
“Ten minutes,” she barked as she clicked the door shut.
Marcus’s laughter followed her all the way back to her desk.
By the end of the week, Marcus was left wondering whether he’d played it wrong. Maybe he’d pushed Abby too hard, or maybe he wasn’t pushing hard enough.
True to her word, she refused to see him unless he gave her a ten minute warning. And every time they did meet, she retreated behind a thick, professional veneer. Untouchable. Which only made Marcus want her more. His focus on the end game was the only thing stopping him from completely flipping his shit.
The end game. Initially, it’d been about wanting to know Abby and getting her to let him in. But time was catching up and his chances of winning her were dwindling with each passing day. He needed a win. Any win.
Marcus pressed his fingers against his eyelids. His usual strategy would be to keep upping the ante until something broke and he found a way in. Yet something stopped him where Abby was concerned. While most of the time she had her
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