No pun intended...
And I didn’t believe for one second that Mitchell didn’t know exactly what he was doing when he made that deal. He knew exactly what he was sentencing me to by letting them run that story, and he knew exactly what was going to happen to both me and his son in the aftermath.
Was this seriously all about punishing his son? Had he finally had enough of Nick’s antics and saw the perfect opportunity to paint him into a corner?
And what about me? Was he really so furious that I would dare cross that professional line with his son? As if Nick hadn’t already slept with half the city? And like Mitchell cared one way or another! He didn’t give a shit about who Nick may or may not have had sex with!
No—this was cruel. No other way of looking at it. It was intentional, and it was cruel.
My phone lit up with a sudden blinking light, and Allison’s voice crackled over the intercom: “Ms. Wilder, I have Bree Miller on line one for you.”
“Thanks, Aly.” I picked it up and clicked over, pausing for a split second to regain my composure and catch my breath. “Bree—it’s Abigail. It’s been a long time, how are you...”
FOR THE NEXT THREE hours, I sat on the phone with clients. Every single client, past or present, in my contact book. Every single client that wasn’t Nick Hunter.
I’d had to give all of them up when I signed up with the Hunters, but my team—Jake specifically—still maintained a small but exclusive roster in my name. Every now and again, I checked in with them personally to see how everything was going.
After the morning I’d had, I was really hoping to do more of the same. To dive into work for a while and forget about the storm brewing outside. Unfortunately, every single person I talked to, was far more interested in talking about me.
Bree Miller—a lovely actress who’d recently moved to Broadway—was a prime example. I’d hardly gotten in two sentences, before she burst in with the obvious question.
“Is it really true, Abigail?” she asked excitedly. “Are you and Nick really engaged?!”
It had to be said, no one I talked to seemed at all phased by the whole boxing ring fiasco. I supposed, when the man in question was Nick Hunter, things like that were to be expected.
Truth be told, I was a little bowled over by the overwhelming excitement and genuine good wishes that awaited me on the other end of each conversation. None of my old clients thought it was at all strange—they all wanted to know if they were invited to the wedding.
Still, it was hardly the ‘work’ distraction I was looking for, and I hung up the final phone call with a sigh of frustration. A frustration that only increased at the next thing I had to do.
“I’m taking a long lunch,” I told Allison, when I finally emerged from my office. “Do me a favor and forward any important messages to my cell, will you?”
“Of course,” she said quickly, watching with wide eyes as I slid on my coat.
The entire rest of the room had gone strangely quiet and was doing the exact same thing—their eyes trained on every single movement. Every time I glanced up, I was met with casual smiles. But the second I looked away—there were those eyes again.
I pointedly ignored them until I’d crossed the room to the elevator, but by the time the doors dinged open, the room felt like it was about to explode.
“And yes—you’re all invited to the wedding.”
The fake wedding. The wedding that was never actually going to happen.
They kept it together. Kept both professional and calm. But the second the doors dinged shut behind me, a massive cheer erupted on the thirtieth floor.
“Good afternoon,” Carl greeted me cheerfully as I headed past him out the lobby. He clearly thought it to be a funny little play on words, given my effusive greeting a few hours before, except my mood couldn’t have been any different.
I shot him a quick look, before shoving open the door.
“...is it?”
My office building happened to be only a few blocks up from Barneys. This was a most fortunate coincidence that I had taken advantage of many times over the last few years. And for the dreadful task that lay before me, I could think of no better venue.
...to find my engagement party dress.
I literally couldn’t even believe I was thinking the words. And I’m not going to lie, it felt a lot better when it was only me thinking them—as opposed to the entire city. Still, Barneys was a place where I could forget all that. Nothing like a little retail therapy to soothe the mind.
Surely, I could find something there that would be appropriate for the occasion that wouldn’t devastate me in terms of finances in the process. As of a few days ago, I was officially saving up for a security deposit on my next apartment—thanks to a certain fiancé of mine.
That being said, there was no way in hell that Nick would ever let me pay—