30 Days (Lost Love Trilogy #1) - Belle Brooks Page 0,34
what do you know about this solicitor you’ll be working for?”
“Absolutely nothing. I’ll meet him for the first time on the plane. Apparently, he was in meetings all afternoon Thursday, so I didn’t have an opportunity then. Asher says he’s nice, crazy hot, a little smug at times, but he’ll treat me well. So that’s something. Maybe he’ll be like a father figure. That would be refreshing.”
“You miss your dad, don’t you?”
“Every day.” I sigh.
“Me too. Me too.” Sadness flashes across her face.
The silence resumes. It’s a welcome quiet because I’m guessing this week will be crazy.
“Have a good time. Answer my calls and don’t drink alcohol. No alcohol,” Mum warns as we pull up outside the departure doors.
“Almost twenty-five—big girl—capable of taking care of myself,” I reply slowly and clearly upon exiting the car.
“Well, prove it.”
“Mum, it’ll be fine. Stop.”
She smiles sweetly. “Love you, Abigail.”
“Heart you, too, Mum.”
There’s a quick wave goodbye before I’m standing alone just outside the airport.
Entering, I head straight for a little coffee shop and purchase a bottle of juice. Today’s newspaper gets my attention with the headline, “Bad luck for Jessy-Mae.” I grab a copy, needing to know how unlucky this Jessy-Mae is and if we are secretly soul sisters. My mobile vibrates in my jeans pocket just as I take a seat in the check-in area.
“Hey, babe. You ready for your big week?” Sammy asks excitedly.
“I’m only going to Sydney, for starters. It’s not like I’m backpacking through Europe. Do you people realise this is for work?”
She doesn’t reply.
“No, Ginger, I’m not excited.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun. You’ll learn heaps, meet new people, and eat great food. Just enjoy it, will you?” Her encouragement is so annoying.
“I love how you look at things, which are not great, and try and make them pleasurable.”
“You’ll see. It’ll be fun, so stop being sarcastic.”
“Sure, if blistered feet, extra-sore legs, dehydration, and being bossed around nonstop is your definition of fun.”
“You’re a negative Nancy, aren’t you?”
“I prefer realistic Rachael.”
She laughs. “Okay, Dorothy, don’t forget to call, and I’ll be picking you up when you land next Sunday at seven p.m. That’s right, isn’t it?”
“Yep, hopefully we’ll get home earlier, though. I’ve been informed I have Monday and Tuesday off next week. If you can swing it, we could spend some time together?”
“I’ll see what I can do. Have a safe flight. I must go.”
“Righto.”
“Dorothy?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“Ditto.”
With that, the line goes dead. I resume reading the latest news in the paper lying across my lap. I can’t remember the last time I read a newspaper. This will either be Depressionville or eye-opening.
Enthralled in a story about a woman who saved a toddler at a local swimming pool, I get a sense someone is watching me. Allowing the pages to slip below my sight, I gasp. You’ve got to be kidding me. “What are you doing here?”
Marcus’s reaction tells me he knows I’m not pleased. I think I’ve made that pretty obvious. “Catching a plane,” he replies snidely, sitting in the seat across from mine.
“Where?” My voice is full of accusation.
“Sydney, and you?”
“Sydney.”
His Hollywood smile beams at me, yet I’m too upset to let it distract me from my planned interrogation. “I thought you were sick?”
He shrugs.
“Well, you don’t look sick now.” He actually looks amazing. Dark jeans, navy polo shirt, messy hair. Fuckable!
“I’m fine.” He folds out the pages of a newspaper he had placed on his lap, lifting it high enough that I can no longer see his face. Was he here the entire time?
I clear my throat. “Excuse me, Marcus.”
He lowers the paper. I watch the corner of his mouth curl. Why is he smiling?
“Yes, Abigail?”
My name from his lips and those alluring dark eyes staring at me make my legs cross. “Why are you going to Sydney?”
“Is it hot in here?” he retorts, still smiling.
“Not at all.”
“You’re flushed.”
My lip finds its way between my teeth.
His smile disappears and hunger fills his eyes.
Oh God, please don’t be going there for work. I can’t be around this man or my panties will never stay on. Talk, Abigail. “Why are you going to Sydney?” I repeat with a sudden chalky mouth.
“For work.”
What the actual fuck? “Oh.”
“Are you disappointed you’re going?”
“Confused I’m even needed now you’re here.”
“Why?”
“I thought I was the only one going.”
“I’m pretty sure they need me.” The way he says this, rings strangely, but I dismiss it.
“Yeah.”
“It’s okay, I’ll leave you alone. Look, I’m sorry you got so upset the other night. Nothing will happen between