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"Bullshit, it wasn't that bad," he fires back, but I keep going.
"We've made some gains, but it's nothing like what we should be achieving." I pour another stiff shot into my glass. "Sales is where you fit, man. This is business, not charity." I take another sip draining the contents of the glass in one swallow. "Don't take it personal."
As I stare at the empty glass in my hand, I mentally run through the last two years of building my marketing firm. I started small, with just a few employees, then got some business partners, and we scaled up. Greig's been with me since the beginning. But he slacks off, banking on our friendship. I hate that it's come to this, but I've got to draw the line somewhere. Although I've come a long way from growing up dirt poor to a wealthy CEO it isn't enough. I want global, commercial success. That's the real dream.
That's why I had to call in a favor and get one of my partners to send someone who can push us forward. Just six months to get us on track, then they can train someone to keep the momentum going. I heard they're sending someone who's a powerhouse but I'm not easily impressed so I'll be the judge of that.
I can't tell if Greig is just being an ass because he's hurt about his breakup and demotion, but then he switches the topic to something he knows he shouldn't. "You hear about Abigail?" he asks.
I feel my jaw clench tight. "Fuck if I care," I snap back quicker than I intend. "Her and Calvin deserve each other," I mutter under my breath.
Greig chuckles, "Heard they split up."
I just shrug, trying to act like it doesn’t matter.
"Rumor has it she's back in town visiting her folks," Greig adds.
Anger swells in my chest as I glance at the clock. I decide this chat needs to end. "Look, we've got work tomorrow. Time to head out," I grunt, already striding toward the door.
He gives me a nod as he gets up from the couch. "Alright, brother. Thanks for the whiskey."
I return the nod, watching as he steps out. I shut the door and lock it. The laid-back mood I was once in has been replaced with irritation. I walk into the kitchen and open the fridge. I spotthe chicken breast I'd left marinating. I grab it, then reach for a skillet in the cabinet. I turn on the stove heat then place the chicken inside the pan, hearing it sizzle already. Then, I slice up an onion and some peppers for extra flavor. I grab the rice maker and throw in two cups of jasmine rice before setting the timer. With the food cooking, I decide to head upstairs for a quick shower.
I strip off my clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket. I turn on the shower and let the room fill with steam. I step under the hot spray, feeling the water pound against my skin. It's hot and relaxing, just what I need to melt away the stress of the day. Although I try not to, my mind can't help but drift back to the conversation with Greig. He had the nerve to bring Abby up. I haven't seen her in exactly a year. That's when everything went down.
Abigail and I had a solid five-year run. She was everything to me and knew me before my company. But when business took off, things changed. She wanted me home and wanted all my attention, but I had a dream to chase. I couldn't just drop everything, even for her. I wanted to show her she was still my world. I'd just hit forty and thought it was the perfect time to settle down. So, I bought a ring, planning to propose. But before I could, I heard aboutthatnight – her and one of my so-called friends, drunk, leaving a bar together. The whole town knew. And where was I? Stuck at the office, working late.
Confronting her was tough. She cried, said it was a one-time mistake, and blamed it on me being 'emotionally unavailable.' But when I couldn't forgive her, she and that guy left town together and made it official. That told me everything I needed to know. That bastard is lucky I never caught him before he skipped town.
The smell of something slightly charred hits me, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Shit," I mutter. I quickly shut off theshower and grab a towel, wrapping it around myself as I head downstairs.
I check the skillet. The chicken's a bit overdone but it'll do. As I'm turning off the stove, there's a knock at the door. Frustrated and guessing it's Greig again, I stomp over and swing the door open. "What now?"
I freeze up at the beautiful sight before me. It's Abigail, standing there like she's just stepped out of my past. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and that sun dress that doesn't leave much to the imagination. She's got boots on, the kind that says she means business.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask.
She barely glances at me, her eyes roaming down my body, almost panting. "I'll be here in town for a while. I caught a bad case of home-sick. Anyway, I need to talk to you," she says urgently, "It's important." And just like that, she brushes past me into the house, not even waiting for an invite.
My brows pull together at her audacity. "You can't just barge in here. Those days are long gone."
She turns to me, with a look of pity. "I'm sorry... about everything," she murmurs.
I scrub a hand over my face. "You think a 'sorry' fixes everything?"
Her eyes give a pleading look. "I know I messed up and I should've been more supportive and patient. I made a mistake," she says, taking a step closer.
I back up, trying to keep some distance between us. "Why are you running back, huh? Things didn't work out with Calvin?"
She shakes her head. "I don't want him... I want you, Weston." She bites her lower lip. "Do you still have my favorite… handcuffs?"
I do but I shake my head."No, we're over for good Abigail."
Her brows knit together in confusion. "You always called me Abby."
"Things change." I shrug. "You changed."
Her eyes drop to the floor for a split second and I can tell the guilt eats away at her but that's her burden, not mine. "Is there someone else keeping you company these days?"
