Penmort Castle (3 page)

“Call them in,
Pete,” Abby repeated.

“You probably
shouldn’t take a shower for awhile,” Pete went on.

“Okay,” Abby
replied.

“Or a bath,”
Pete continued.

Abby
stared.

She only had
one bathroom. Well, she had three. It was more to the point that
she only had one
working
bathroom.

“No bath?” she
whispered.

“Water damage
to the floorboards. You fill up that roll top tub and get in it, it
could go through the floor,” Pete explained.

Visions of
Abby, naked and bathing, crashing through the floor of her
ancestral home did not make Abby feel warm all over.

“Call in the
guys, Pete,” Abby said quietly.

Pete nodded,
looking about as happy about his errand as Abby was. He gave a chin
lift to Jenny and backed out.

When Abby
turned back to Jenny she thought her point had been made. She also
thought it was time to fire up her computer and check her bank
balance.

James, who Abby
had met only once through Kieran who Abby had known for twelve
years because he was Jenny’s husband, through Jenny, was playing
Abby’s… she hesitated because the word “pimp” didn’t sound nice, so
she decided to think of him as her business manager.

James was
supposed to tell Cash to transfer a quarter of the agreed amount
into her account. He was also supposed to give Cash her phone
number so she’d be reachable by Cash. The down payment would be
augmented the day they went to the castle when Abby would get
another quarter of the money. The last half would be transferred at
the end of the arrangement.

Fifty thousand
pounds would go a long way toward paying a plumber and electrician.
It would also pay off what she owed Pete, who allowed her to pay an
instalment on a monthly basis but she had an ongoing and growing
balance that she owed him. It would also allow her to bring current
the two loans she’d had to take against the house. Not to mention
the two credit cards which were maxed out. And her line of credit
with the bank that was over the limit.

When she opened
her mouth to make her point to Jenny, Jenny got there before her
and asked softly, “I still don’t know why you don’t just sell this
house.”

Abby closed her
mouth and her eyes.

When she opened
them again, she replied, “You do know.”

“It’s just a
house,” Jenny returned.

“My mother grew
up here. My grandmother grew up here. My grandmother inherited this
house from her father who died before she was born. It was the only
thing he was ever able to give her that would keep her safe, warm
and protected. And
he
grew up here, as did his father and
his father before him. I can’t sell it. It’s the only thing I have
left of them. It’s the only thing I have
at all
.”

A look of pain
crossed Jenny’s face before she could hide it but her next words
explained it. “You have us, Kieran and me. You have friends. You
have –”

Abby’s voice
turned harsh in order to hide the hurt of the invisible hand that
always squeezed her heart when they had this conversation, when the
reminder came, yet again, of all she
didn’t
have.

“You don’t
understand. You have Kieran. Ben’s gone, Jenny,
dead.
” Abby
spit out the last word that she didn’t need to use, a word she
didn’t need to remind her friend was attached to Abby’s husband.
Jenny knew all too well and Abby watched her friend flinch. “There
will never be another Ben. I’ll never have that again. Most women
don’t get that kind of love even once in their life. I had it and
now it’s gone and it hurts every day even after all this time it
hurts every
single
day. Mom’s gone, Dad’s gone, Ben’s gone
and now Gram’s gone. I need this house. I need the memories I have
in this house. I’ll never give it up. Never. I can’t. Gram wouldn’t
understand. Mom wouldn’t understand. Hell, even Ben wouldn’t
understand if I let this house go. They all loved it just like I
do. You don’t get it, you
can’t
get it and I hope to God you
never do!”

Jenny started
to speak but Abby shook her head.

“If I have to
do something you don’t approve of to take care of myself, my life,
my home, then I’m sorry. You can’t take care of all my problems. I
can’t lean on you and Kieran for everything. You’ve been there
every time. Mom, Dad, Ben, Gram and all the crazy, stupid stuff
I’ve done in between. Now it’s high time I stepped up. I got myself
in this mess, I’ll damned well get myself out.”

“Abby, please
–” Jenny started.

“No,” Abby cut
her off, “no,
you
please. Please just support me and help
me. One month, then I can start over. I can get the house back in
shape and get my life back on track. One month and then we can put
it all behind us.” Abby put her hands on her petite friend’s neck
and bent her face toward her. “I need you to support me with this,
Jenny. Please.”

Jenny’s face
gentled but she didn’t give up. “Abby, honey, I know how you feel
about this house and I love it too. You know I do. But I think
you’re focusing on this house and fixing it up and keeping it as
some weird way to keep hold of your family, of Ben. I promise you,
Abby, I
promise
, you won’t lose the memories of them if you
give up this house.”

She was
wrong.

Sometimes, if
Abby was out somewhere and the memory of Ben decided to travel
through her mind, she’d forget what he smelled like. She’d forget
what it felt like to have his hands on her body, his fingers
finding hers, his knee brushing hers under a table. She’d forget
what his voice sounded like, his laughter, his familiar chuckle
when she’d done something he considered “adorable”.

Sometimes she’d
even forget what he looked like and she’d have to drop everything
and rush home.

In this house,
she’d remember. She’d remember him at the kitchen table drinking
coffee and chatting with her grandmother or playing cards with her
Mom and Dad. She’d remember him decorating the Christmas tree in
the living room. She’d remember him teasing her grandmother that
she had way too damn many rose bushes in the garden that Gram would
ask him to prune. She’d remember hearing his laughter coming from
the study mingled with her father’s as they drank whisky and tried
to outdo each other telling rude jokes. She’d remember him making
love to her in the same roll top tub that was now the bane of her
existence when her grandmother was on holiday in Germany and they
were watching the house.

Abby could
never,
ever
sell this house.

“You don’t
understand,” she whispered, feeling the tears pricking her
eyes.

“No,” Jenny
whispered back, “I don’t.” She paused and then sighed before
speaking again. “But if this is what you’ve got to do, girlfriend,
then this is what you’ve got to do.”

Abby swallowed
back her tears and nodded her gratitude.

“I’m just not
going to tell Kieran,” Jenny finished.

“That’s
probably a good idea,” Abby agreed.

Jenny’s
reaction had been dramatic enough.

Kieran would
probably shout the roof down and Abby had just had it re-tiled.

* * * * *

An hour later,
with both Pete and Jenny gone, Abby sat at her grandmother’s
writing desk in the living room and stared at the transaction that
beamed grand and glorious from her bank statement which was
displayed on the computer screen.

Abby felt
relief sweep through her.

All right, so
she was a very highly paid prostitute.

But at least
now she could pay off that unbelievably expensive outfit she wore
today that maxed out credit card number two.

Her mobile on
the desk sounded.

Abby picked it
up and looked at the display, fear that word of her new job as
whore had leaked out to Kieran and he was going to give her what
for replaced the short-lived relief she’d felt the moment
before.

The display
said “Unknown Caller” and since Kieran was very known, Abby slid
open her phone and put it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Abby.”

Oh dear Lord,
it was Cash. She knew it immediately. She’d never forget his deep,
rough voice with the more-than-subtle hint of Scottish burr.

What did she
say? What did she do?

“Yes,” she
replied.

“James
explained your terms,” he told her, his voice just as deep, just as
rough and just as sexy over the phone as it was when he leaned
close and calmly asked how much it would cost to fuck her.

She’d never
forget that either. She’d wanted to hit him when he’d done it.

She also had
the very weird desire to kiss him.

She hadn’t had
the desire to kiss anyone since Ben. It had been four years, four
very long years.

Then again
she’d never been your normal girl next door.

Abigail Butler
had always been a little weird, a little headstrong, a little crazy
and, more often than she cared to admit (like today), a lot
stupid.

But there was
also the fact that Cash Fraser was an unbelievably handsome,
shockingly sexy man.

Abby’s eyes
went to the computer screen. “I see he did.”

“You have the
money?”

“Yes,” she
replied.

“Tomorrow
night. Dinner. It won’t be casual dress.”

What did he
mean, “It won’t be casual dress”? Did that mean formal? Did that
mean evening gown? Or did that mean a nice pair of slacks?

Hell, she
couldn’t
ask
. He thought she was an experienced escort. That
was what Kieran said when he’d talked to James and she’d even lied
to Cash herself that day that she had other clients. Any
experienced escort to the rich and famous would know what to wear
to dinner.

“Fine. What
time?” she asked, sounding even to her own ears like she knew what
she was doing. It appeared she was actually
good
at this
stuff and she didn’t know if she should take that as a positive or
negative sign.

“I’ll pick you
up at seven,” Cash told her.

“No,” Abby
replied immediately, luckily sounding brisk rather than panicked,
“I’ll meet you at the restaurant.”

“You aren’t
going to meet me at the restaurant,” he returned in a very firm
voice.

The panic
deepened but Abby fought it. “I’m sorry Cash. Part of the deal is
you don’t get to know where I live.”

“You live at
Number Twenty-two Eton Road.”

Oh dear Lord,
how did he know that?

If James told
him then James wasn’t being a very good business manager. He was
only supposed to give him her phone number.

Now what did
she do?

Time to put her
foot down. “You aren’t coming here. I’ll meet you at your
house.”

“I’ll be at
your place at seven,” he repeated.

The panic was
now full-blown.

How would she
cope with Cash Fraser and his charismatic presence forcing his way
into her home? She didn’t need memories of him here, he’d ruin
everything.

She forced her
voice to go cold. “You’ll not come to my house.”

“Seven,” was
his reply, then he disconnected.

She slid her
phone shut and whispered, “Bloody hell.”

The First
Date

Abby was
already in the vestibule when the ancient bell in the door clanked
discordantly as Cash Fraser turned it.

Not wanting to
be taken unaware, nor give him any reason to enter her home, she’d
been ready for half an hour.

She’d watched
for his arrival at the window while alternately pacing the living
room, all that time wondering if he could track her down if she
took his money and escaped to the wilds of the Brazilian rainforest
(and, as he was an industrial spy ring breaker, she figured he
could).

On that dismal
thought she’d seen his car pull in the drive. She watched his tall,
powerful body knife out of the car as if he was being born anew
from its sleek depths before she dropped the curtains she was
peeking through. She took a long calming breath (which failed to
calm her, incidentally) and she ran to the entry, the echo of her
heels clattering against the large black and white diamond-tiled
floor rang through the cavernous hall as she moved.

Her cat, aptly
named Beelzebub (because the fluffy, black furball was a little
devil), chased her, weaving around her high-heeled feet, nearly
tripping her (part of the reason he was a little devil for he did
this often and sometimes succeeded in his efforts).

She was wearing
her grandmother’s clothes.

With only a day
to prepare and her life in its usual, if quite a bit more dramatic
turmoil, she hadn’t had time to shop for anything new.

However, for
her first date as paid escort to Handsome Cash Fraser, she knew she
needed something special, something she and Jenny would refer to as
Clothing Courage.

And as ever,
Gram, even dead for over a year, did not disappoint when her
granddaughter was in need.

That day the
plumber and electrician became a plumber, electrician
and
contractor because once the bathroom suite and tile were ripped
out, the rotting floorboards had to be replaced and there was the
small fact that two walls of plaster fell down. Therefore that day
had been spent not at the mall but in the tile shop where she
bought what seemed like, and cost as much as, acres of expensive
replacement tile.

She’d also sent
out cheques paying off her credit cards, she settled her debt with
Pete and significantly drew down both of her loans. Lastly, she’d
gone to the grocery store and bought enough food to feed an
army.

This final
errand for some reason gave her a glorious sense of freedom.

She hadn’t been
able to afford to go nuts at a grocery store or any store or in any
way shape or form in so long, she forgot how it felt not to have to
watch every single penny.