On Temporary Terms

“Ah. That’s good. Make him work for it.”

“Lara! That’s not what I meant. I’m not sure my dating him is ethical. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am in my career...to make sure everyone knows that I’m not like my father.”

“Oh, good grief. You’re not representing him in a court of law. Besides, isn’t Miss Izzy technically your boss’s client?”

“Yes, but—”

Lara interrupted with a triumphant grin. “Problem solved. Now for the important question. Do you have any good undies, and what are you going to wear when you finally put him out of his misery?”

Two (#ua6ff186d-e259-57f9-8317-194b78bc74de)

Abby chose to wait a week before contacting Duncan Stewart. That would give her time to decide if she really wanted to go out with him. If she realized in the interim that he had only been playing with her, then she wouldn’t have embarrassed herself for nothing.

She planned to call him the following Saturday morning. The Friday night before, Lara was at her house for a battle-of-the-Chrises movie night. It was an old game they played. Tonight would be Chris Pine versus Chris Hemsworth.

While they popped popcorn in the kitchen, Lara rummaged in the fridge. “Has your dad harassed you lately?” she asked, popping the tab on a soda and taking a sip before hopping up on the butcher block countertop and dangling her legs.

Abby grimaced. “No, thank God. He’s been suspiciously quiet. Almost too quiet. Makes me nervous.”

“Mom wanted me to make sure you know you’re invited to our place for Thanksgiving.”

“That’s a long time from now,” Abby said, her throat tight.

“Not all that long. My mom loves you. Our whole family loves you. It’s not your fault that your father has gone off the deep end.”

Abby dumped the popcorn into two bowls and sighed. “It feels like my fault. Maybe I should have tried harder to get him medical help. I don’t know if he has diagnosable medical issues or if he’s just a deeply disturbed jerk.”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Lara said, her expression rueful. “But I can’t bear to see you go through the holidays again like you did last year. That was hell. You’re like my sister, Abbs. And you deserve better.” She hopped down and grabbed a bowl. “Enough gloomy talk. Let’s eat. Don’t forget the cheesecake I brought.”

“Do cheesecake and popcorn really go together?”

“Cheesecake goes with everything,” Lara said.

An hour and a half later, when the first movie credits rolled, Abby was already yawning. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t sleep much last night.”

Lara kicked her foot. “Dreaming about the luscious Scotsman?”

“Not exactly. He hasn’t contacted me, you know.”

“If I’m not mistaken, you told him to give you time to think about it.”

“I did.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know if I want to go out with him.”

“Liar.”

“Excuse me!” Abby said, affronted.

“Of course you want to go out with him. But you’re scared.”

“Oh.” That much was true. “I’m fifteen pounds overweight, Lara.”

“Not every guy wants a stick figure. He liked what he saw. And besides, you’re a beautiful woman, whether you believe it or not.”

Easy for Lara to say. She was the epitome of the perfect female. If she weren’t so wonderful, Abby would be compelled to hate her on sight. “Well, it’s a moot point, because he hasn’t gotten back to me, and I honestly don’t think I have the guts to call him.”

“Let’s look at this objectively, honey. How often do new men wander into town?”

“Almost never.”

“And when they do, how often are they young, hot and available?”

“Almost never.”

“And when one of them is young, hot and available, how often is he the decent type who loves his grandma and is willing to sacrifice his own happiness for hers?”

“You’re making him sound like a cross between Robin Hood and James Bond. I’m pretty sure Duncan Stewart just wants to get laid.”

“That’s what all men want. It wouldn’t hurt you either.”

“Lara!”

“You’re staring down the barrel at thirty. Then it’ll be thirty-five and forty. All the good men will be gone. You’ve got a live one on the hook, Abby. Don’t toss him back.”

“That’s the most sexually regressive, ridiculous speech I’ve ever heard.”

“You know I’m right.”

“I don’t see you fishing.”

“Maybe if I had a charming Scotsman asking me out, I would be.”

“I don’t know. He’s arrogant and rich and snarky. Probably hasn’t had to work for anything in his life.”

“Text him. Right now. Tell him yes.”

“You’re bullying me.”

“Correction. I’m encouraging you. There’s a difference.”

Abby picked up her cell phone, her stomach churning. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Do it, Abby.”

Without warning, her cell phone dinged. She was so startled, she almost dropped it. The words on the screen left no doubt about the sender.