Abby was, of course, making it sound like she was protecting Cash, rather than deliberately throwing him under the bus which had been her earlier motivation but she thought that was the best way to go.
“It’s fine, Abby,” Cash told her.
“Well, um… I’m not done.”
Cash just looked at her, silent.
Abby went on. “Fenella was there and Mrs. Truman invited her along.”
Cash’s brows drew together.
Abby soldiered forth. “Then she invited Cassandra then Jenny.”
Cash’s eyes narrowed.
“Then Fenella called Nicola and she invited her.”
Cash stared at her a moment then closed his eyes and sighed.
“And Nicola asked Honor,” Abby finished on a whisper.
Cash’s eyes opened and pinned her to the spot.
Then she tried to put a positive spin on things. “Suzanne can’t make it.”
“Well thank God for that,” Cash remarked dryly and Abby bit her lip again.
“I’m sorry, Cash. It mushroomed out of control before I could –” Abby stopped talking when Cash’s arm suddenly curled about her waist and he pulled her close so her torso was resting on his, their faces barely an inch apart.
“Stop saying you’re sorry,” he muttered.
“Okay,” she breathed.
“It’s fine,” he told her.
“I’ll do all the shopping,” she babbled on, even though he said it was fine, “and cooking. And I’ll try to get them to go home early so you can get work done, if you have things to do.”
He blinked slowly, as if she’d somehow surprised him and even though she thought this was strange, she kept right on going.
“Just, you know, find a way to take me aside and give me a warning when you get home, if you have things to see to that is. I’ll take care of it so you can get away. Promise.”
He stared at her for a moment she could swear like she was some strange but wonderful, fantastical being.
Then he bent his neck and touched his mouth to hers.
Something about his kiss was different.
It was strange.
But it was also, definitely, wonderful.
Abby didn’t get a chance to process it. He shifted her so she was back in position, cheek on his ribcage and he went back to scrolling through spreadsheets, opening and closing charts and reading through documents at alarming speed.
Zee had moved away when Cash pulled her up but he came back, walked up Abby’s leg and jumped down into the space made by the crook of her hips. He curled in a tiny, kitty circle and started purring.
Cash didn’t say a word at the addition of Zee he just kept clicking through documents.
Abby watched them fly by as she stroked her cat and Cash twirled a lock of her hair between his fingers.
Then, before she knew it, she was asleep.
Chapter Nineteen
Two Important Things Happen to Abby
Abby opened the front door to Cash’s house to see Mrs. Truman standing on his stoop, Jenny, Nicola, Fenella, Honor and Cassandra all behind her.
“Parking is atrocious!” Mrs. Truman snapped by way of greeting then pushed in, grumbling, “We must have walked three miles to get here.”
“We didn’t walk three miles,” Cassandra muttered with a grin in Abby’s direction.
“Felt like it,” Mrs. Truman groused, shrugging off her coat.
Abby ignored Mrs. Truman and welcomed the other ladies with a cheek-to-cheek touch, took their coats, hung them in the cupboard under the stairs and led them all to the garden level.
When they arrived downstairs, they were all looking around in wonder.
“We’ve never been to Cash’s house. It’s gorgeous,” Fenella squealed and Abby looked around.
She’d lit some candles. She’d also gone shopping in Bath that day. She bought a tall, large, cylindrical, glass vase out of which sprouted fragrant, white, hyacinths that sat dead centre on the dining room table. Another identical, but smaller, vase held the same flowers and sat on the edge of the bar that separated the kitchen from the seating area. A third sat on the table between couch and armchairs, also stuffed full with hyacinths.
During her shopping efforts, Abby had purchased a handsome, scarlet-red table runner which ran the length of the dining table. Cash’s sleek, classy, black crockery lay amongst his silver and glassware, the plates hiding the circular, quilted grey pads that Abby also bought. Scarlet napkins Abby picked up with the table runner were folded in rectangles and sat at a slant on each plate.
The aroma of roasting rosemary chicken filled the air and Nina Simone sang softly in the background.
Abby was pleased with Fenella’s comment and further pleased that she was right. Cash’s place was gorgeous but now it didn’t look just show-home gorgeous, it looked home-home gorgeous.
“What’s that smell?” Mrs. Truman, sniffing the air disdainfully, demanded to know.
“Chicken,” Abby answered.
“Chicken?” Mrs. Truman clipped. “I thought we were going to have beef.”
“You talked about beef,” Abby told her. “I never talked about beef.”
Mrs. Truman shot her a glare and then mumbled, “I was expecting beef. All day, I’ve had a taste for beef. Now I get chicken.”
Abby fought a smile and caught Nicola staring at Mrs. Truman in barely-hidden horror.
“Ignore her. She’s crotchety,” Abby told Nicola. “You’ll get used to it.”
Nicola’s eyes came to Abby and she nodded, looking relieved at Abby’s amused acceptance of the older woman but Mrs. Truman spoke.
“I’m not crotchety. I’m particular,” Mrs. Truman informed Nicola. “I like things a certain way. Manners. Behaviour,” her eyes came to Abby, “for instance, people keeping their promises.”
“I didn’t promise you beef,” Abby asserted.
“You did,” Mrs. Truman told her.
“Didn’t,” Abby shot back.
“I’m going to look at the rest of the house,” Jenny cut in. “Abby, you want to show us around?”
Abby’s eyes went to the clock.
Cash had said he’d be home by six thirty but it was five past seven. It wasn’t unusual that he was late, what was unusual was that he hadn’t called.
She shook her head at Jenny but invited, “You all have a look. I’ll get everyone a drink.”
“White wine,” Mrs. Truman ordered sharply as she headed for the stairs, not even attempting to conceal her curiosity at viewing the rest of Cash’s house. Then she finished, “Chilled.”