7. Abigail

7

ABIGAIL

I tug on the hem of my short dress one more time and try to settle into my seat at the bar.

This is low, even for me. Not just the neckline of the dress, but this whole situation.

The bar is nicer than nice, not somewhere I'd usually go out of my way for when I could hit up a karaoke bar or some basement dive with darts and pool.

But I'm trying to make a good impression tonight. More than a good impression, which I don't want to think too hard about right now.

My decision to reach out to Professor Ridley was…it wasn't necessarily spur of the moment. I've been thinking about it since the first rejection I got from a research fellowship.

Professor Derek Ridley is one of the foremost marine biologists on the East coast, and his word means a lot everywhere you go.

It's a shame that he's such a brilliant man with a terrible personality.

"Abigail?"

His voice crawls down my back like a drop of freezing water on an ice-cold day.

I turn to face the man.

He's a little younger than my father. Probably Theo's age, actually. Looks a little more haggard than Theo, thanks to all his crunchy habits. He has a long beard and wears sandals, even in winter.

Thankfully tonight, he's opted for an outfit that is acceptable in this establishment, even if it's all linen and way more suited for Key West than Manhattan.

"Professor Ridley." I get up to greet him. "It's good to see you."

I hold out my hand for him to shake, but he embraces me like we're old friends.

He presses his cheek to mine, his hands finding my back, squeezing me a bit too tight to be considered friendly . "Please, you've graduated. It's Derek now."

"Of course." I try to find a happy medium between pushing him away and accepting the hug. I pat his back awkwardly. "Derek. Thank you for…meeting me tonight."

"It's my absolute pleasure." He pulls the bar stool beside mine, then nods toward my lowball glass. "You've already started, hm?"

"Oh, yes, I hope that's all right, I got here a little early." I gesture toward the bartender. "Drinks are on me; I've already put down a card."

Derek furrows his brow, gives me an almost paternal look. "Abigail, what kind of gentleman would I be if–"

"I invited you out tonight. It's only reasonable." I try to keep my tone and language as professional as possible.

A moment passes before a grin spreads out under his beard. Less of a grin and more of a leer.

I swallow back my nerves.

"You're too kind, Abigail."

That's not what you said the last time we spoke.

I allow the conversation to be polite at first. A catch up. I let him flirt with me, let him ask me questions about my life, questions I don't really care for him to know the answer to. But I have to bide my time. I need to get answers and see if he can help my career if he hasn't hurt it already.

"So, does it feel good to be out of school?" He sips his old fashioned.

"I mean, of course. But it would feel better if I could land a gig," I say with a half-humored smile.

Derek circles his glass, the thick, glossy liquid climbing up the sides. "You're still on the hunt, then?"

I narrow my eyes.

He's avoiding eye contact. I think he knows the answer to his question.

"I'm afraid so."

"That's a shame. You are brilliant." Derek's gaze meets mine for a moment. "If not a little willful."

I've been so angry lately that it's not hard to get the fire stoked. This moment is no different.

How dare he comment on my personality? I shouldn't be surprised when it comes to him, after everything that's happened, but I can't help the rage inside me.

Still, I have to modulate it so I don't turn into a fire-breathing dragon.

"You called me for help, is that it? You want me to put in a good word?" Derek asks, his eyebrow raising.

Of course that's why I called you, jackass .

He knows exactly what he's doing. He knows what power he has over me. The power he's always had from the very beginning. Power I admired because of his intelligence and incredible work in the industry.

That doesn't translate to being a good person, though.

I should know this, having been raised in the tax bracket my family's a part of.

Unfortunately, I'm too trusting, I suppose. Too optimistic.

But these last few months have driven that out of me.

I'm tired, and I want to give up and know I can't or else everyone will know I did.

So, I have to crawl back to Derek fucking Ridley.

"Could you? I seem to keep getting close and not quite snagging the roles I'm applying for. And your word is worth its weight in gold."

Despite the man he is behind the scenes, he's a top researcher. An expert in the field. A word from him is like the word of god.

"That's kind of you, Abigail."

"I mean it," I say too eagerly. "Just a phone call here or there might–"

"Why haven't you been putting me down as a reference if you'd like my word?"

I hold my breath for a few moments. There are a lot of ways I could answer that question. "You're on my resume."

"Yes, of course. Down at the bottom in the education section, right?" Derek eyes me. "Would it surprise you to know that despite not being an official reference for you, I've been receiving calls anyway?"

That's what I was afraid of.

"As you said, my word is worth its weight in gold."

I swallow.

Derek finishes off his drink and then sighs.

"I tried to teach you this lesson when you were in school, Abigail." He places his arm on the back of my chair and leans in close.

I can smell is breath, soured from liquor and too sweet from cherries. It makes my stomach turn.

"Your intelligence and your skill do not exist in a vacuum." The hand on the back of my chair drifts to my back. "It's about the connections you make too. The way you make them. You understand?"

His fingers coast across my skin.

I want to throw up.

"I thought we were on the same page back then, Abigail."

I bite down on my lower lip, trying to recoil from him.

I knew I ran this risk, inviting him here tonight. I thought I could handle his advances, thought I could maybe even let my integrity bend.

But I want to cry. My career isn't worth my dignity.

"And then we weren't, and you know, that confused me."

"I know, I'm sorry about that."

You're not sorry. Why are you saying you're sorry?

"It's all right. You're a smart girl. But you're sweet too. When you want to be," he says with a smile and resituates himself next to me. "Your sweetness is important too. Can get you where you…want to go."

Derek inhales. Like he's trying to…

No. No, no, no. This was a mistake. A huge mistake.

His eyes are on mine. Trapping me. "What if we took this conversation somewhere more private, hm?"

Except it doesn't feel like a question.

Someone bumps into my back.

I turn quickly, gripping the bottom of my stool so I can move it if they need more room. "Sorry, I–"

My mouth goes dry.

Theo Wallington is sinking into the chair next to me. He smiles, eyes bright with surprise. "Abigail! Fancy seeing you here."

For once, I'm happy to see him. "Oh, my goodness, what a–a–" I turn to Derek. "A shock!"

Derek does not look pleased, his tiny mouth puckered. "Is this a friend of yours, Abigail?"

"He's–uh–" I turn back to Theo. "What are you doing here?"

The woman behind him gives me an answer before I even finish the question.

She's a beautiful woman with braids wrapped in a coil on the top of her head. She carries herself like a queen, lips pursed in an ever-present looking smile, eyes thin as she appraises me.

"My date and I were just coming here for a nightcap." Theo gestures toward the woman. "Abigail, this is Helene."

We exchange greetings, the woman's French accent dripping off every word.

Helene excuses herself to use the bathroom, her hand stroking Theo's bicep before she asks him to order her a glass of rosé.

I can't tell how well they know each other.

Is this a first date? Is it going well?

But Theo smiles, says he will, and watches her go.

To capture a man's attention like that, to have him so tight in my grasp he watches me walk away…

I want that.

And Theo is the archetype of a man I'd want to look at me like that.

Not him obviously. I know too much about him, and he's far too old for me. But he's in a clean-cut suit, his hair well styled, his face clean-shaven, and his smile easy and…

Sexy.

I realize I have to introduce Derek now, and I do so with my tail between my legs. "This is Professor Derek Ridley. We were just discussing my career."

Derek sits up straighter, his beady eyes zeroing in on me, a hollow smile on his lips. "Yes. Your career."

"Hello, mate!" Theo says with hapless cheeriness, thankfully oblivious to the awkwardness. He shakes Derek's hand. "You are a lucky man to have been able to work with Abigail in her element. She's brilliant."

My heart skips a beat.

It's just a paternal instinct. I'm his friend's daughter. Of course, he's heard from my dad how brilliant I am over and over. And while Theo definitely has skeletons in his closet, he knows how to keep up appearances.

Still. I like that.

Brilliant.

"She is, she–uh… How do you know Abigail?"

Theo places his hand on my shoulder, his palm fitting around the joint, tight and warm.

I realize he's…protecting me. This isn't an accident. Not at all.

I find myself leaning onto his side, allowing him to shield me from Derek. "Well, I've known her since she was a girl. Her father is a friend from back in the day."

"Is that so?" Derek's hollow smile perks even higher on his lips.

"Yep," I reply. "Old friends."

"In fact," Theo plays up his naivete, "would you mind if we joined you so Abigail and I could catch up? It's been so long, and I mean, I've only gotten to hear about how talented she is through the grapevine, I–"

"Of course." Derek gets to his feet. "I actually do have to run. I lecture in the morning, and it's getting late."

My eyes meet Derek's for a moment, coldness seeps through my bloodstream.

I fucked it up, didn't I? This was supposed to fix things and instead, I've made them worse.

But if Theo hadn't interceded, the next thing would be…

Somewhere more private .

And who knows what would have happened then?

Theo smiles. "You sure, mate? Let me buy you a drink!"

I have half a mind to pinch him and tell him to shut up.

"No, no." Derek straightens out the lapel of his rumpled linen jacket. "We discussed what we needed to. It was good catching up, Abigail."

His eyes harden on me. "Good luck with your job search."

"Thank you," I manage, though I don't have much strength to voice it.

Derek starts to walk off.

"All right! Nice meeting you, Professor!" Theo calls out in a chummy tone, saluting him with his free hand.

Derek wades through the crowded cocktail bar until he's out of sight.

Theo's hand tightens on my arm. "Are you all right?"

I want to collapse into his arms and burst into tears.

Something about the way he's touching me is so familiar and soft that I want to give into it and give up everything.

"Saw you when we walked in, and you looked…" Theo frowns.

I push away from him, trying to smile away my pain. "I'm fine now. Thank you."

Theo lifts the hand that was resting on my shoulder, open palmed. He closes it, then settles onto the edge of the stool beside me, so tall that he manages to keep his feet on the ground. "You want something to drink?"

"I have a tab," I say, unable to withhold the edge in my voice, though there is a part of me desperate to say, "Yes, please, I want a drink, please take care of me, please look out for me."

Instead, I swig the rest of my drink.

Theo smiles with fondness. "Of course, you do. You are an independent young woman who… What is it they say?" He grits his teeth, eyes rolling up to fetch the phrase. "'Don't need no man?'"

I stare at him for a long moment, his British inflection of the phrase washing over me. Then, I burst with laughter.

"That sounded ridiculous, didn't it?"

"Yes! It did!"

I continue to laugh through the bartender's return, through Theo ordering a rosé for Helene and a gin and tonic for himself, and he takes the liberty of ordering me another Cosmo before telling the bartender to put my tab on his.

I grab Theo's arm. "Don't do that!"

"Too late. I have seniority on the situation." He settles back into his chair, raising his eyebrows at me.

Is he putting me in my place? Reminding me that he's close to my dad in age and, consequently, can be an extension of him?

"So, unless I'm mistaken, I take it you weren't meeting up with Professor Derek Ridley because you have an infatuation with older men," Theo states.

"I –no, he was–" I pause. "He was a professor in my program, and I thought he might be able to help me with the job situation."

"Yes… Help."

I glare at him. "I'm not that type of woman."

"I wouldn't judge you if you were." He crosses his arms over his chest.

"I'm not!" I cry out.

"Abigail, please, take it easy, love. Don't strain yourself."

It's not at all condescending. It's kind. And that confuses me, especially considering how rude I've been to him since our run in at the aquarium.

"It's a long story," I murmur.

The bartender arrives with our drinks, placing Helene's rosé at her empty spot on the other side of Theo.

I'm grateful she hasn't yet returned. In fact, there's a part of me that hopes she doesn't. That part must be very confused.

"I'm sure it is," Theo says. "But if something is amiss or you're in danger, Abigail–"

"I'm not in danger , that's–"

" If you are, now or ever, please know you have a friend in me," Theo's blue eyes lock with mine.

I purse my lips, unsure what to say.

It's those stunning blue eyes, they take my breath away, leave me unable to speak.

Fuck, what's going on?

"I know you've got a lot of family who loves you and will look out for you, but if you need somewhere else that's a little bit different, I want you to know I am a safe spot to land. Should you need, of course."

A soft spot to land? He didn't mean it literally, I know he didn't, and yet…

I'm thinking about landing right in his arms, amid luxurious bedclothes, his nude body up against mine.

I've had too much to drink. Maybe.

Instead of thanking Theo, which would be the right thing to do, I get to my feet, grabbing my purse off the back of my chair. "He's too old for me, anyway."

"Are you going?" Theo sounds disappointed, unless I'm mistaken.

"Your date. She's… She'll want you alone, I'm sure." I smile. "I'm sorry about the extra drink and–"

Theo leans toward me, boxing me in against my chair. "Let me call you a car or–"

"It's fine. I'll be just fine."

"You'll let me know when you get home, then. That's not a request, that's a demand." He holds out his hand assumedly for my phone.

He's sexy sweet and sexy sassy too.

This is not good. Not when I know that all of it is a guise for all the crap behind the scenes.

I give him my phone, and he saves in his number before handing it back. "I've texted myself, so if I don't hear from you within the hour, I'm going to call. And if you don't let me know, I'm coming to your house, Abigail."

"My dad will be really weirded out if you're coming to check on me like that," I raise my brow.

Theo's brows jump. He backs off, settling into his seat again and facing the bar. "Right. Yes, that might be dramatic."

I look down at my phone, at the text thread we now share.

"Please let me know when you get home. It will bring me some peace of mind."

"I will."

"Good."

Before I step away, I touch his arm again. "Thank you."

Theo glances at me.

"For stepping in when you did."

He pauses. "It's the absolute least I could do for you, Abigail."

Those words hang in my mind the rest of the night.