Page 109 of Sweet Talking Man


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He'd passed the tennis net, bumping his hips against the crank, when Abigail appeared beside him, jogging in her high heels.

He skidded to a stop.

"Jesus, I thought you'd never slow down," she said.

22

ABIGAIL STRUGGLED To catch her breath because, for a laid-back, easy-living guy, Leif moved awfully fast when upset.

"What?" he said, his voice laced with pain.

"I want to talk to you," she said, hobbling beside him because the new shoes, while totally sexy, pinched the hell out of her toes.

"I thought you didn't want to talk," he said, stopping again, glaring at her.

"I changed my mind."

"Well, too late."

"Is it?" she asked, an extra layer of meaning coating her words. "Listen, I know you didn't put the artwork of me naked in the auction."

''No shit. That was for me alone," he said, his jaw still set, his eyes flashing anger and pain intermittently.

"Birdie told my mother what she did, but it was too late to pull the piece. They'd already opened the room and people had seen it."

Leif shrugged one shoulder but said nothing.

"It's beautiful," she said, pressing her lips together so she wouldn't cry or have her voice break with emotion. "It really is. I could feel...well, it just took my breath away."

"I'll bet," he said, pulling his gaze from her, looking as ifhemight cry. And that killed her. She wanted to fix things, she wanted to make everything right again.

She'd spent the past fifteen minutes on the phone with her daughter, who'd cried, begged, and pleaded with her for forgiveness. Abigail couldn't believe the child she'd cherished her entire life had done something so intentionally cruel.

"Why?" she'd asked Birdie.

“I don’t know. I was mad at you. You lied to me about Mr. Lively. You let him draw you, like pornography. Like the stuff you told me was dirty."

"That wasnotpornography. That was something he made for me, and you showed it to the world. I don't understand why you'd do that. Do you hate me so much?"

Birdie stayed silent for a few seconds before saying, "I don't hate you."

"So this was to punish me? Embarrass me?"

"I don't know," Birdie cried, sniffing into the phone. "I guess I wanted you to hurt the way I do.”

"The way you do?"

"I don't know, Mom. I'm so mad all the time and I don't know why. I wanted everything to go back like it was... when Dad was here. But you didn't even give him a chance. You were too busy screwing around with my teacher. Do you know how messed up that is?"

"No. Tell me."

"It just is. I tried to tell you. You're a mom. And you're not acting like my mom. You're acting like you're...I don't know. You said all that stuff about love and sex. You said you have sex with someone you love, someone you're committed to. But when I saw that picture of you, I knew you were a liar. It made me so pissed. I wanted to hurt you."

"It's fine to be angry. It's not fine to do what you did. You embarrassed our entire family, including your father, with this antic. Your grandfather had to pay the full amount for the painting just to keep some wacko in town from buying it. And, thanks to you, everyone now thinks-" Abigail took a deep breath. "You know what? I don't care what they think. What I had with Leif wasn't like that. Not that you would understand. Truly, baby, you're still a little girl and you don't know what love is. But one day you will, and you'll feel ten times worse than you do right now when you recall what you've done."

Birdie didn't speak.

For a moment, sitting in the club manager's office, Abigail felt such an absolute failure as a mother, as a daughter... as a person.

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