Page 4 of Everlasting Vows

I pull onto the street, my hands shaking on the steering wheel. Gripping it tighter, I nod to myself. I needed to do this. It’s unfortunate timing with Prue’s wedding, but we can be mature about this and limit the impact it will have on her. I can’t keep living like a shadow in my own life. It’s time things change, and I put myself first for once. Even if it means shattering what’s left of my heart in the process.

Doubts sweep into my mind, and I spend most of the drive second-guessing myself. I shake my head in frustration, willing the thoughts away. “No! I’ve made the right decision. Stop overthinking, Abbi!”

I enter Stone Tower, my heels clicking across the classy stone floor as I make my way toward the elevator. I smile as I come to a stop. “Morning, Joe.”

“It is now that I’ve seen your pretty face, Mrs. Steele.”

At least someone thinks I look pretty today. I wave my hand in front of my face. “You make me blush.”

“Then my job is done.” He bows as the doors open. “Have a wonderful day.”

I chuckle. “Thank you. You too, Joe.”

He’s such an upbeat man. I’m not sure how old he is, but he’s here every morning monitoring the elevators to help with the peak-hour crush. I arrive on the 48th floor and make my way to my desk. Dropping my purse into the bottom drawer, I turn on my computer and head for the staffroom to make myself a cup of coffee. I missed breakfast, and I should eat something to ward off the stress headache building; though I doubt I’ll be able to keep any food in my stomach. I press my hand across my middle, trying to stem the churning that hasn’t stopped since I stepped foot in my kitchen this morning. I find a couple of savory muffins left over from yesterday’s meeting—they’ll have to do and at least they have a little protein and fiber in them, I’ll ignore that they’re mostly carbohydrate for today—and zap one in the microwave while the coffee machine makes my drink.

I find Jase lingering near my desk when I return. “Morning,” I say as brightly as I can manage.

He studies me closely, his eyes narrowing as they trace my face. This guy doesn’t miss much. I guess it comes with the territory when you work with Oliver Stone. He demands the highest quality work and attention to detail that would make the average person’s mind boggle. “Everything okay with you?”

“Yeah. Why?” I swallow. I don’t need everyone here to know my business.

“You just don’t look as put together as you usually do,” he tells me as he flicks his suit jacket out of the way to tuck his hand in the pocket of his slacks while I fight the urge to fidget with my hair and clothes. “If you need a day off, let me know.”

I nod. “I will, but I don’t. I’m fine.” I can push through this. It’s what I do, but I’d better visit the ladies and touch up my makeup. I don’t want everyone asking me if I’m okay; I feel too fragile to lie all day. I show my best smile, hoping it allays his concern.

“Do you have the agenda ready for this morning’s shareholder meeting?”

I pick up the copies from my desk and wave them in the air. “Sure do. I also organized a delivery of pastries to arrive at 9:30. I was about to check my emails before heading into conference room one to set up.”

He beams at me, and I swear his eyes twinkle. Jase is a handsome guy with a fantastic disposition. He makes my job easy and enjoyable; he’s even become what I would consider a friend. “Great. I’ll need you to take the minutes because Pam’s away today.” He moves closer and clears his throat. “Her mom suffered a stroke last night. The doctors don’t hold much hope for a full recovery at her age, so I’m not sure when Pam will be back at work,” he tells me quietly so others can’t hear.

I press my hand to my chest. “Oh, no! Gosh. I’ll message her later to see if there’s anything I can do to help, but I’m happy to step in wherever I can.”

“Thanks. We’re lucky to have you, Abbi.” He taps my desk and walks away.

I quickly eat my muffin, which tastes like sawdust, and drink my coffee as I double-check the agenda and ensure we have enough copies for the shareholders. I set up the conference room and arrange the pastries on the credenza along with the coffee- and tea-making facilities, thankful for the busyness that comes with a shareholder meeting. It’s the perfect distraction from everything that happened this morning.

I still can’t believe I asked Nix for a divorce. While part of me is proud that I had the courage to ask for what I want, part of me wants to go back and undo what I’ve done. Nix was clearly hurt, and I hate being the cause of his pain. I’m the person who smooths things over, keeps the status quo. But that doesn’t get me anywhere.

I shake the thoughts off—you’re at work now, leave home issues at home. Compartmentalizing is my superpower, and I need to be on my game if I’m going to be taking notes for the meeting.

“Thanks for today, Abbi. You really saved the day by stepping in to take the minutes for the meeting,” Mr. Stone says as he heads for his office while I’m shutting down my computer.

I’ll say one thing about Oliver Stone. He appreciates his staff. It shows in the way he personally thanks us and in the generosity of our paychecks. This is one of the highest-paying secretarial positions in the city, and the extra perks of the onsite gym, allocated parking, and regularly supplied lunches and treats are always appreciated.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Stone. I hope they’re up to Pam’s usual standard.”

He frowns at me. “How many times do I need to tell you to call me Oliver? And I’m sure your minutes are perfect. Jase has them, and once he’s looked them over, he’ll give them to me. I’ll have them back on your desk tomorrow morning with any changes if needed, and then I’d appreciate it if you could email them out to the shareholders. Even the members who couldn’t attend today.”

“No problem.” I smile up at him.

“Enjoy your evening. See you tomorrow,” he says as he turns on his heel.

My stomach falls and rolls as I think about what tonight will bring. “You too,” I call to his retreating form, which he acknowledges with a wave over his shoulder.

He’s changed since he met and married his wife, Kate, a kindergarten teacher. He’s softer and more approachable than he was two and a half years ago. I’m certain he demanded we call him Mr. Stone before he met her. He’s always been a fair and generous boss, but there’s a friendliness to him that was missing before. Working here feels more like being part of a family than working in an office. I can guarantee he checked in with Pam at some point today; probably even sent her flowers from his sister-in-law’s florist shop.

That reminds me, Blooms and Balloons will probably be the best choice for flowers for Prue’s wedding. I drag out my phone and make a note to mention the shop to her when we start to make the arrangements.