AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“How about the Monarch?”
Laurel’s friend burst into giggles. “We’re not allowed to talk about that place in front of Laurel. She dropped two hundred dollars on a dress to get in last year and got re-jec-ted.”
“Whore! Shut up.” Laurel flipped her laughing friend off. “And please, if I can’t get into the Monarch, none of you ugly bitches can. Especially not Franken-face here,” she nodded at me.
I arranged the bottles on the counter. I always thought I’d treasure the day that I could shoot down one of Laurel’s stupid remarks with cold, hard proof, but today, she didn’t strike me as remotely worth it. I had snapped a picture of Abram’s breathtaking view from the penthouse but I didn’t want to show it to anyone, least of all her. I didn’t want to have to answer questions about him. I was still trying to figure out one of my own. “This is not what this is.” His words played over and over in my head and no matter how I interpreted them, I cringed. They made me foolish. Presumptuous.
Laurel took my silence as anger. “Lighten up, girl, it was a joke. God, we need to get you laid.” She flashed a bright smile. “Know what? I’m friends with this super hot model guy. He’s out of your league but his creepy roommate would totally sleep with you.”
God.
“Laurel.” I finally faced her with exasperation. “There has to be a better way to stroke your own ego than – ”
“Hello, welcome to Alma’s!” Reece cut me off with a loud greeting to whoever just walked in. It was his code for “everyone shut up and look like you’re doing things,” and it usually worked, even on Laurel. Being an asshole to coworkers didn’t keep her from being professional to guests. But today she dropped her jaw and cursed straight in the face of one.
“Holy shit, hello!” she squealed, immediately clasping two hands to her mouth and giggling at herself. Heart already pounding, I spun around to see who could’ve elicited that reaction.
Of fucking course.
Something was wrong with me. I was far less shocked than I should’ve been to be watching Abram Lenox step foot into Alma’s Diner, wearing a heather grey Henley and dark jeans. I was floored, as always, but not so much shocked. Maybe I’d felt his presence a second before Laurel’s squeal. Or maybe I had a feeling, despite trying not to be presumptuous, that he would come looking for me. I didn’t know. I had no idea what it was. All I knew was that nothing I felt around this man was ever near the realm of normal.
Standing behind everyone, I glanced at Abram, knowing that behind his shades, he looked straight at me. But as he removed them, Laurel flounced to him, putting a hand on his arm. “Would you like a seat, sir?” she nodded at one of her tables.
“No, thanks. I’m only here to see Isla.”
Heat bloomed in my cheeks. The sound of my name on his lips tended to have that effect, even when I was vaguely sure that I hated him. I watched as every head in the house turned to me. Laurel’s eyes were wide as she pointed. “That Isla?”
Abram laughed. “She’s the only one I know.”
After several minutes of everyone’s continued shock and my continued silence, Abram wound up seated at one of my booths, already looking at me when I reached his tableside. I unstuck my tongue from the roof of my mouth as I cocked an eyebrow at him, my throat far too tight to speak. Thankfully, he spoke first.
“I still have your keys.”
Laurel’s friends burst into whispers. I still have your keys. I’m sure they were assuming a hundred things that were completely wrong but I let them do it.
“I know.”
“How did you plan on going home today?”
“No idea. I spent my last three dollars on the train here.”
Abram kept his stare fixed on me. “How much do you earn here?”
“What?”
“On average, per day, what do you make. And while we’re at it, how much do you pay for rent?”
“Why do you need to know any of this?”
“I’m sure you could guess if you thought hard enough but I take it you’re not in the mood, so just answer my question.”
I bristled. “Answer mine.”
“Ask one.”
“What the hell was that last night?” Sugarcoating. Since all this drama, I’d apparently lost patience for the kind of thing.
“Are you asking why I stopped you?”
