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My head aches and mouth hurts from plastering on a smile by the time the catch up finally finishes. She has the gift of the gab. Melissa started off with some chit-chat about my mom doing her hair and some other icebreaker topics before digging into my portfolio. She explained that her interest is in clients with self-help books, that she has a good network of publishers and would be happy to sign me on and pick things up for me. Providing I get the book out sooner than later. So now, I have to get to work and start really putting the hours in.
It was all sweet and innocent at first until the flirting began, but I was there for a job and nothing else. Though she continued to giggle and make flirty comments which were over the top. It just reminded me of how I no longer enjoyed these meetings with women, indulging in their flirtatious ways. To where I wondered whether I should mention Abigail when Melissa’s hand grazed my sleeve, but she got the hint when I removed my arm. Since then, I didn’t see her make another move.
Everything else went well. Now I just have to work my ass off and strengthen my portfolio of books and social media.
The moment she leaves, leaving her potent perfume in her wake, and I hear the door close, my shoulders drop. The tension flees immediately. As I pay for the coffee and tip the waitress, I watch her hop into a taxi, which is a quick reminder that I should, too.
I’m looking forward to telling Abigail the good news about Melissa. But the excitement dims when I remember that I also have to explain why I kept it from her.
I take out my cell and dial Abigail’s number.
Hi. You’ve reached Abigail, but I’m unable to answer your call. Please leave a message or send a text. Bye for now.
I chuckle at her voice mail bank and hang up, then choose the alternative option as she advised.
Me: Hey babe, I tried calling you but hit your message bank. What are you up to?
Me: My meeting ended. I’ll still come over later but wanted to tell you some good news now. Are you able to talk?
A few moments later, I receive a response.
Abi: Sorry, I’m busy.
I sense the crease between my eyes as I read the message. The tone, you could say, sounded stand-offish. Unlike her. She usually adds an x or an emoji at the end.
Me: Is everything alright?
This time, a message doesn’t appear. Instead, my cell phone buzzes, and I see Abigail’s number on the screen. I smile and pick up.
“Hey babe, you sounded off, are you o–” I don’t have time to finish as I hear Tiffany’s gruff voice interrupt me.
“Are you serious, Jaxon? Calling Abi ‘babe’ after that stunt earlier today?”
Stumped, yet again, I’m addled by her comment.
“Umm, Hi Tiffany. I don’t know what’s the issue is with me calling your sister babe… and how did you know what we were texting about?”
“Probably not the best time to chat to her. She’s pretty angry right now.” She sounds irritated, which stirs me the wrong way.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Can you please put her on the phone?” I try my hardest not to sound pissed off, but Tiffany is not the person I want to speak to. My relationship with her sister doesn’t includeheras well.
“Nope. She’s busy sulking at the moment, thanks to you. Hope you enjoyed yourmeetingwith the platinum blonde.”
Then the line cuts out, and I’m left no longer confused, but annoyed at how easily she dismissed me, like I meant nothing. Angrily, I shove my cell into my back pocket and find myself on the street outside the café. I flag down a taxi, which luckily for me drives up immediately, as if the universe knows it’s urgent.
I give the driver Abigail’s address, which is three blocks down from me. I can’t remember why I have it, but she gave it to me, and according to my watch, it takes fifteen minutes to get to her place.
As soon as he stops, I hastily hand over the money to the driver before jumping out of the taxi.My feet skip up the stairs to her apartment, avoiding the lift as I’m quicker than it. I finally come face to face with number 7, and I hope for my sake, this is a lucky seven. I take a deep breath and knock on the brown door.
“Abigail, it’s Jaxon. Can you open up? I need to understand what the hell is going on.”
I can hear some mumbles from inside. Clearly, Abigail and Tiffany were talking about me. I wait, then wait a little longer before I attempt at another knock, but the door opens, and I find Tiffany leaning against the door with a hand plastered onto her waist. Not to mention the glare she’s giving me.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, her tone even and less snappy than over the cell.
“I’m here to check on Abi,” I say, trying to look for her over Tiffany’s shoulder.
“You lied to her, Jaxon. She is my sister, and I am here to protect her from men like you. I stood up for you. I rooted for you. Then saw you with my own eyes!”
