Club Abbott: Yours (Club Abbott Series, #5) Read online

  Club Abbott

  Part 5

  Yours

  Hazel Kelly

  © 2016 Hazel Kelly

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, copied, or stored in any form or by any means without permission of the author. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  All characters in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, brands, organizations, places, and situations is purely coincidental.

  Chapter 1: Carrie

  I checked my phone when Brook went to the bathroom, knowing what I would find.

  Nothing.

  Which is exactly what I deserved to get.

  And yet part of me kept hoping Ben would call, suggest we start over, and give me a chance to redeem myself.

  Because missing him was making my heart ache.

  Sure, he’d sent me a few emails. But they were cold and contained nothing more than the briefest correspondence about what needed to be picked up for the club when and where.

  Meanwhile, the final fittings were scheduled to go in this week, and I had yet to hear from him.

  I considered suggesting I come see how everything looked, but it seemed pretty obvious that he didn’t want to see me. So I didn’t know what choice I had but to consider no news good news.

  After all, I was sure I would’ve heard from him if he didn’t like something I’d picked out or if the color or measurements for something were wrong.

  But a few weeks ago, I thought I’d get to see his face in real time as the club came to life around us. In fact, I’d taken it for granted that I would get to enjoy that part of the process in person, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen.

  And it was all my fault.

  I tried to call him once after I got the ornament. I knew I owed him an apology for the way I treated him. But when he never called me back, I gave up.

  Because I still believed he was better off without me.

  Plus, for all I knew, his calendar was booked full of boozy late night dinners with his mom and Simon.

  I tried to imagine the worst- that the two of them really hit it off, bonding over stories about how inadequate I was and how annoying my habits were. Unfortunately, I couldn’t imagine that at all, because no matter how much I wanted to convince myself that they were the same in their lack of love for me, I knew they were polar opposites.

  Ben had never shown me anything but respect, never been anything short of a complete gentleman.

  And a man like him would never befriend a spineless weasel like Simon, a man who I seemed to have successfully rid myself of- save for his dead iPod, which was still in purgatory at the bottom of my purse.

  I don’t know what my problem was.

  I mean, I couldn’t carry it around forever. But I couldn’t leave it in my apartment because that was a Simon free zone from which I’d successfully eliminated all other physical traces of him. And I couldn’t throw it away because it was a reminder of the life I’d lost every time I reached in my bag for anything.

  Of course, why the hell I was putting myself through that was a mystery- and further evidence of my psychosis no doubt.

  It was like compulsively rereading a nasty letter or following those fitness models on Instagram whose pictures only made me feel like shit…

  It was stupid, unproductive, and impossible to stop.

  When I looked up from my phone, the restaurant sprang back to life around me. The place was decorated in all white and lime green and smelled unmistakably like soy sauce- or maybe that was just the Teriyaki Chicken wrap lying half eaten on my plate.

  And I thought being engaged was an appetite killer.

  Missing Ben was worse. It wasn’t that I wasn’t hungry. It was just that my mind was so full of thoughts of him that I often forgot there was a plate of food in front of me.

  Which was a big problem considering the fact that I’d taken to having cereal for dinner most nights.

  “Sorry that took so long,” Brook said as she slid back onto her chair.

  “I thought you’d fallen in.”

  “Even worse.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “I ran into someone I know.”

  “Who?” I asked, sliding my phone back in my purse.

  “Well, that was the problem. I couldn’t remember her name or where I knew her from at first.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Oh dear.”

  “So I had to make rapid fire small talk about absolutely nothing- mostly this restaurant- to keep things from getting personal while I figured out how the heck she knew me.”

  “And?”

  “I didn’t figure it out until that awkward ‘let’s say goodbye while we both try and squeeze through this same door’ moment.”

  “Who was she?”

  “A client,” she said. “But it only clicked when she started screaming over the sound of the hand dryers as we walked out about whether or not she should pull her kid’s loose tooth.”

  I picked up my sandwich. “What did you tell her?”

  She shrugged. “I said unless his messing with it was making them both crazy to leave it be.”

  I nodded.

  “To be honest, I think I would’ve recognized her better if she was on her back with her mouth open.”

  “That’s what he said.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  I smiled and bit off the shredded carrot that was about to fall from my wrap.

  “Speaking of which, have you and Ben made up yet?”

  I shook my head and covered my mouth. “I think I really blew it.”

  “Or maybe you just didn’t blow it hard enough.”

  I swallowed. “Very funny.”

  “Seriously, though. I don’t think you should give up on the whole thing just because you acted like an idiot one time.”

  I shrugged.

  “And neither should he, especially if you guys have as much chemistry as you claim.”

  “Well it takes two and right now this cheese seems to be standing alone.”

  “But he wouldn’t have gotten that silly ornament made for you if-”

  “It’s not silly.”

  “Whoa, okay. Don’t have a cow.”

  I laid my wrap back on my plate and lowered my wrists against the table. “Sorry. I’m just still kind of hoping that whatever feelings he had when he ordered it might still be lurking inside him somewhere.” Hoping for that happily ever after. “Anyway, you were saying…”

  “My point is, what kind of lonely, sad life would this be if we all just walked out on our relationships the first time the other person behaved badly?”

  “Are you saying I should’ve given Simon another chance?”

  She furrowed her brows. “No. That’s a completely different situation. I’m saying Ben’s feelings for you probably haven’t changed just because you tried to put up some walls. Though if you don’t mind my saying, your timing was ridiculous.”

  I sighed. “But I’ve hardly heard from him.”

  “Yeah, well, my first reaction to having someone say they want to pretend we never happened isn’t to start blowing up their phone and poking them on Facebook.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Honestly, Carrie. I bet he’s just as crazy about you now as he was when he got that totally not silly at all ornament made.”

  I forced a smile. “So what do I do now?”

  She took a deep breath and picked a spicy peanut out of her wrap. “I suppose you need to think of some sort of gesture that is both an apology and a confession of your own feelings.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Have any bright ideas?”


  “I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I was in the dog house.”

  “Helpful.”

  “There’s always make-up sex?”

  “I love that idea,” I said. “But it might be better if I could do something that didn’t just muddy everything further, something that sent a clear and decisive message that I really give a shit about him as a person and not just as a piece of meat.”

  “Like an actual piece of meat?”

  I leaned forward and put my head in my hands.

  “I mean it. What guy doesn’t like a good steak dinner?”

  I looked up at her, my fists bunched against my cheeks. “Keep thinking,” I said. “But that’s a good start.”

  Chapter 2: Ben

  Before I called, I spent a few minutes reminding myself how angry I’d been when I last left her office.

  I didn’t like reliving the feeling, but I knew it was the only way I’d be able to maintain the cold front I’d been putting on. Otherwise, I was liable to crack, to flirt, to give away the fact that not only was I not over her, but I missed her and her curves like crazy.

  Even worse, I missed her dimples, her laugh. In fact, I was jealous of everyone she was coming into contact with, impossibly frustrated by the knowledge that I was missing opportunities to soak her up.

  But I couldn’t let that show.

  If she wanted to pretend nothing ever happened, I would oblige her if it killed me, though I was starting to lose hope that she hadn’t meant it. Of course, maybe she just wasn’t ready to give me a chance in light of everything that had happened to her recently.

  But that was hard to stomach because I was pretty confident we were perfect for each other.

  Still, if she couldn’t open herself up to giving me a chance- to giving us a chance- then there wasn’t much I could do about it.

  She answered on the second ring. “Carrie Callihan.”

  Her greeting confirmed my suspicion that we were still pretending she’d never come in my mouth, never wrapped her lips around my dick. “It’s Ben.”

  “Hi- one second. Will you excuse me a moment,” she said to someone else.

  “If it’s a bad time-”

  “Not at all. I just need to step out where I can hear you better.”

  I checked my watch. She was probably having lunch. Hopefully not with a man.

  “Sorry, hi,” she said. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yeah.” I leaned against the wall of one of the meeting room’s on the Abbott’s ground floor. It was empty apart from me and a stack of maroon chairs.

  “What can I help you with?”

  “I wanted to know if you’d like to come by the club at the end of the week? All the fittings should be in at that point, and then it’s just a matter of the cleaning crew coming in.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I figured it might be a good idea for you to come see the final product as soon as possible. That way, if there are any changes you want to make before opening night-”

  “I’d love to,” she said. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  I felt my chest loosen. “Good. How does Friday afternoon sound?”

  “Fine. What time?”

  “Any time after three.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  I took a deep breath. “Okay. Sorry to interrupt your lunch.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  I let the silence linger instead of hanging up.

  “Ben?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, relishing the sound of my name in her voice. “Yeah?”

  “About what happened in my office-”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

  “I owe you an apology.”

  “No you don’t,” I said. “You were right about everything. We have a job to do, and I never should’ve tried to divide your focus the way I did-”

  “But-”

  “Things are better this way.” I didn’t mean it. Not a word. And it wasn’t easy to say. But while I was still crazy about her, I didn’t want to look like a fool again. “Don’t you think?”

  She didn’t answer.

  I pursed my lips.

  “I got the ornament.”

  I clenched my jaw.

  “It was really sweet of you to do that.”

  “But I shouldn’t have,” I said. “I realize that now.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Beautiful it may be, but in hindsight I can see that it was an error in judgement. Forgive me.”

  “You’re not the one that needs to be forgiven here, Ben.”

  I tried to swallow, but my mouth was like sandpaper.

  “I am.”

  I leaned back against the wall and fought the urge to slide down to the floor.

  The silence between us was heavy, and I wanted to speak. I did. But I knew the only way I’d ever forgive her is if she decided not to throw this thing between us away. Otherwise, I’d probably hate her for the rest of my life.

  Because I’d have to channel my affection somehow, and there was no way I could be indifferent to her. She was too beautiful, too special, too much of everything I wanted.

  “Ben?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you forgive me?”

  I wanted to say “forgive you for what?” I wanted to hear her say she was sorry for trying to deny what we had, for saying she wanted to pretend none of it ever happened. But I couldn’t. Not then. Not on the phone when I couldn’t look in her eyes and know in my heart that she meant it, that she wasn’t just saying what she thought was necessary to soften the awkwardness between us. “There’s nothing to forgive. Anyway, I won’t keep you. See you on Friday.”

  And then I hung up.

  I felt like throwing every chair in the stack beside me across the room. It was so frustrating to hear her voice and not say how much I missed it, how badly I needed to see her.

  I thought giving her space would make her realize her true feelings for me, but it seemed the whole experiment was having the opposite effect. If anything, I was the one who was realizing with each passing hour how much sunnier my life had been with her in it.

  And nothing had confirmed that more than going out with Christophe last weekend and seeing how many vacant gold diggers there were on the dating scene. I was sick of drinking myself into a stupor while I sat next to women who did nothing but fish for compliments, women who were afraid to leave the house wearing their own goddamn eyelashes.

  Shit, most of them couldn’t even stand on their own two feet. And it didn’t matter whether it was cause of their ridiculous taste in footwear or the fact that they couldn’t handle their drinks. Either way, I found them totally unappealing.

  Especially now that I knew Carrie was out there.

  Before I met her, I thought the idea that I might find a woman who was confident, beautiful, talented, ambitious, kind, funny, and curvaceous was about as likely as coming across a unicorn.

  And it was one thing to want a unicorn when you knew in your heart that they didn’t exist, but when you’d seen one, touched one, looked into one’s big brown eyes…

  I sighed.

  Other women just looked like silly girls now, and I hadn’t felt such sickness inside since Nadia ended up not being who she said she was.

  But this was different.

  Cause Carrie was still as wonderful as ever.

  She just didn’t want me- or at least, she didn’t want to admit it.

  And I was terrified that I was going to push her away so much that if she ever changed her mind, it would be too late. I would’ve frozen her out.

  Worst of all, I knew things about Simon now that she didn’t, things she had a right to know.

  And I couldn’t ask someone else to tell her, especially when I wasn’t sure she’d even want to know the truth.

  Chapter 3: Carrie

  I stopped around the corner, reapplied my lipstick, and blotted my Christmas red pout on a tissue.

  Then I
hurried down the sidewalk and pulled the heavy door open.

  A blast of warm heat hit me when I walked in, much like I expected would happen on opening night when the club was full of people dancing and drinking the night away.

  I stopped in the entryway and pulled off my scarf, my eyes traveling along the dark wood flooring into the open space ahead. I took a few steps forward, pleased with the row of sconces on each side of the hall and stopped where the room opened up.

  The place was completely transformed. The dark bars on either side looked fabulous and inviting, and the shelves behind them were already filled with the finest top shelf liquor. I stuck my scarf through the handles on my purse and walked further into the room, my heels clacking beneath me.

  Then I looked up at the jagged fixtures hanging like shattered glass in the air, admiring the way the light bounced off them.

  “It looks great, don’t you think?”

  I kept my eyes up and turned towards the voice.

  Ben was leaning against the balcony overhead, the balcony where we’d first slept together.

  “Hi.” I watched him walk the length of it, dragging his hand along the railing until he reached the staircase. He was wearing an expensive suit, his white shirt open at the top.

  “Well?” he asked, descending the stairs.

  “Yeah. It does.” But despite the amazing work I’d done, he was still the best looking thing in the club. “Are you happy with everything?”

  He nodded as he put a foot on the ground and crossed the floor towards me. “I’m very impressed,” he said. “I wasn’t sure about the fixtures when they were putting them in, but they’re perfect.”

  I smiled.

  “And the way the smaller bar compliments the large one is genius,” he said. “I honestly don’t know which one I like better.”

  “Hopefully your customers feel the same.”

  He nodded at the far wall, his chiseled features looking at home in the industrial space.

  I wanted to reach out and touch him, to drag my fingers along his jaw and breathe him in, but his reticence to get close was tangible.

  He turned towards me. “Want to see the VIP rooms?” he asked, his eyes dropping to my lips for a split second.