she went to lay the phone back in the cradle, her hands were shaking. Trembling, like a leaf in a storm.
“Good-bye, Mom.”
This time, she hoped she meant it.
A few minutes later, and a few mental kicks in the butt later, her iPhone chimed a reminder and she groaned, snatching it off her bureau to check the time. Twenty minutes. He was going to be here in twenty minutes and she hadn’t even done her hair.
She was still torn between grieving for a relationship she knew she’d never have and kicking herself for even caring.
And she had twenty fricking minutes.
Storming into her closet, she stared at the dresses and in desperation, she grabbed a pink one off the hanger. Pink and her didn’t always work. It was bullshit that redheads couldn’t wear pink. Some redheads shouldn’t, but she did okay with it, depending on the shade of pink and this one was her shade. The problem was the style of the dress.
Marin had bought it for her and although it fit like a dream, it was so full of subtle sexuality that Abby had never felt right wearing it. It was modest, but there was something about it.
Fingering the material, she sighed and then headed back out into the bedroom. “Once more into the breach.” She had to change her bra. It had to be strapless to work with the dress and since she was wearing a different bra, she needed different panties, too. She could feel herself blushing as she found herself pulling out a pair of panties that had garter straps attached. It was sexier than anything she’d worn for Roger, sexier than anything she normally wore.
“That means it’s perfect.” She was having an affair. Right? That called for sexy. Making up her mind, she found a pair of silk stockings to wear with the rest of the clothing.
Ten minutes later, she found herself standing in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection and panicking.
The dress, just as she’d remembered, fit like a dream. It looked almost whimsical, almost sweet with the pink material dotted with black polka dots. It was cut with a full circle skirt and nipped in at the waist.
The bust had a black lace overlay and it cupped and curved around her breasts like a lover. She wore a DD bra and the dress’s bodice showcased her assets to perfection, she had to admit.
She looked hotter than hell. She knew enough about appearances that she could admit that. Although the makeup was wrong. She hurriedly washed it off and went for a more old-fashioned style, using neutral colors on her eyelids and a darker eyeliner than normal. She echoed the neutral color with her blush and went for bold, bold red on her lips.
There wasn’t any time to deal with her hair. Just as she finished applying her lipstick, she heard the doorbell.
Frowning, she checked the time on her phone. Zach only knocked half the time. Why was he bothering now?
She opened the door with a smile.
And it fell immediately as she found herself staring at Roger.
Roger.
Today.
Of all the days. She had to deal with her mother and Roger?
What was life trying to do, just grind her into the dirt?
The scumbag stood there with a smile on his face, one that froze as he stared at her. His gaze dropped down to linger on her chest and then jerked back up as she crossed her arms.
“Abigale,” he said, clearing his throat. He gave her that charming smile, one she remembered all too well.
Once it had made her sigh with happiness. Roger all but oozed normal, nice, controlled. But every once in a while, he’d flash her a certain smile that had just seemed to burn with dirty thoughts. Granted, he’d sucked on the follow-through.
Now she found herself staring at him and thinking, that looks just a little too practiced. She wanted to kick herself, too. If anybody should realize when somebody was a fake or not, it was somebody who had lived their life selling a lie.
Still staring at him, she arched a brow and waited.
His smile faded as the silence dropped between them, heavy and thick. “I . . . I guess you’re not happy to see me,” he said softly.
“Whatever gave you that idea?” She tapped her fingers against her arm and wondered where in the hell Zach was.
“Look, Abigale, if you’d give me a few minutes, I can explain. I just wanted what was best for us and I thought—”