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“Your pleasure”—and your softly sensual sigh—“is all the thanks I require.” Then, because she seemed to appreciate him being transparent, he continued in that vein. “It’s been a while since I spent time with a lady.”
“Has it?”
There was interest in her question but no shock. Seemed his reputation preceded him. Not a surprise. His messy divorce had kept the local gossip columnists busy. Susanna had been strategic in trying to sway public opinion of him by constantly dripping information, some of it scandalous, to the hungry vultures.
This time Abigail unflinchingly met his gaze. “Just for the record, from what I’ve seen, you’re not a scrooge.”
He winced. Until now, he hadn’t given a single fuck what had been said about him. “I’m beginning to think everyone in the Crescent City read that article.”
“There were a lot of clicks and shares.”
“The word paints an instant picture, doesn’t it?”
“Scrooge? As in a stingy old man?” She broke off another piece of cookie, but she held it, rather than dipping it. And she seemed to be struggling to hold back a grin. “As I recall, he was wearing a white nightshirt. Very skinny legs.”
He shuddered. “Perish the thought.”
When she went on, her tone was more serious. “But there’s a more important lesson fromA Christmas Carol, isn’t there?”
“How so?” He picked up the thread of her question. “I’ve never read the book.”
“Or seen the play?”
Enthralled with her, he shut out the rest of the world. “No.”
“It’s a classic. We should watch the movie. I mean—” She picked up her beverage and took a sip.“Youshould. The message is a good one.”
“Enlighten me?”
“Are you serious?”
He nodded.
“Ebeneezer Scrooge is a miser, and he has a full character arc into redemption.”
“So there is hope?”
She lifted one of her creamy, bare shoulders, and he couldn’t look away. “He’s visited by three ghosts—of Christmas past, present, and future—and his character evolves because of what he’s shown.”
“You were right the first time. We should watch the movie together.” For a moment, he recalled holidays he, Trenton, and Susanna had made popcorn and snuggled together on the couch in front of the TV.
Those happy times had made her announcement that they were getting a divorce stunning.
In retrospect, he had to admit she’d played her hand—and him—masterfully.
Quietly Abigail continued to regard him, and her interest jolted him from another of his miserable trips into the past, where he ruminated over events he couldn’t change.
Had he missed her response to his suggestion? Or had she assumed it was a throw-away comment? “I mean it about the movie.”
Interest flared in her blue eyes. Just as quickly, caution extinguished it.
“Mr. McCall…”
The rest of her sentence was stolen away when the overhead lights flickered before dimming. All conversation came to an immediate halt, and the thumping music stopped, plunging the dungeon into silence.
He and Abigail exchanged glances.
“I heard that Mistress Aviana had a surprise this evening.”
