Thirty Days: Part One (26 page)

“Marcus. Do I want to remember?”

His head begins to shake almost hypnotically. Clearing his throat, I see pity. “I want you to remember, because if you do, then you’ll remember me. I want that more than anything. I just wish you didn’t have to remember everything.”

“Everything. Why not?”

“Because sometimes we choose to forget the things in life that hurt us the most.”

“Hurt me the most?”

“Yes.”

“If I do remember—if I want to. Tell me, will it be worth it?”

“It will be painful, but I think I’m worth it.”

I drop my hand before lowering my head. It’s quickly lifted again by my chin.

“Abigail, I wish you could remember this.” His lips press feather-light against mine as his breath stutters.

Cupping my hands to his cheeks, our mouths press hard together. Whirls of lust heat up my skin in response.

Why do his lips feel like home?

Disconnecting, I’m halted by his expression—eyes now darker than before.

“Can you feel it, Abigail?” he asks hopefully.

Clasping my lower lip between my teeth, I can, but I’m rendered to silence by the tingling sensations coursing through my body.

“I know you can, Abigail. I never forgot what this felt like, but I also never remembered correctly either. That memory was so much more than my mind could have ever captured.”

“Stop.” I shy away. “Go or you’ll be late. I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Be good,” he says before the sound of his shoes walking through lush grass grows quieter and more distant.

“It will be painful,” I mumble under bated breath.

***

I’ve no idea what time it is when I re-enter the manor. Sunset has come and gone, so I assume it’s around seven-thirty p.m. Entering through the back door, I’m met with sweet golden eyes.

“Miss McMillian, are you hungry?” Grady asks, folding closed what appears to be a newspaper.

“No. But I’m hangry.”

“Hangry?” he repeats, cocking his head.

“Yes, hangry. You know when you’re so hungry that you turn into a crazed maniac, one who would kill violently if food isn’t delivered immediately.”

His eyebrows rise before a placid smile exposes the cute dimple in his chin. “Well, we better be getting you something to eat then. I’m not sure I’m interested in becoming the murder victim of a hangry lady.”

I begin to giggle, making my way over to the staircase. “Well, just let me get out of these work clothes and put on something a little more comfortable. I’ll be right with you. I’m sure you know all the best places we can go in town to eat.”

“No!” he barks in a stern tone, standing a short distance from me. “Miss McMillian, I’m under strict instructions that you are to remain here. I’ll get some takeaway for you instead.”

My mouth drops open, and I’m instantly cranky. “Strict instructions? By who? Let me guess, Mr. Klein?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Pffft…I’m going out to eat. It’s Sydney. I want to see the sites. We’re going out, Grady. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re the driver, right?”

His eyebrows rise, but he doesn’t answer.

“I’m guessing, in some way, I’m your boss, yes?”

He still doesn’t say a word, but the look of amusement on his face tells me that he finds this statement entertaining.

Trying to remain confident, I clear my throat. “Now be a sweetheart and fire up the car, will you. Give me twenty minutes.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t do that.” He stands, puffing out his chest in a way that exerts authority. “We eat here tonight.”

“Well, either you take me or I will catch a taxi. Your choice.” I glare, trying to gauge if this ploy might work. “Grady, we will be back before Marcus finishes at his dinner thing, I promise. He’ll be none the wiser. I can keep a secret if you can.” Turning on my sexiest pout, I think maybe, just maybe, he’s coming around.

“He said you can be quite persuasive.”

“So?”

“I really shouldn’t…I could get fired, you know.”

“You won’t get fired. Nobody will ever know. It will be our secret.”

“Miss McMillian, the answer is a firm no.”

“Taxi it is then,” I huff, turning and taking the first four stairs up the staircase.

“Wait!” he calls out.

I can’t help but smile before coming face to face with his now worried expression.

“Fine, I’ll take you. At least if I do, I’ll know you’re safe.”

“Exactly. See, that wasn’t too hard, was it?”

He grins. “Marcus didn’t lie about how stubborn you are, that’s for sure.”

“Hmmm. Marcus seems to think he knows a lot about me.”

“Of course he does, you’re his Abigail.” As quick as the words expel from his lips, his hand launches upwards, pressing firmly across his mouth. Golden eyes turn a shade of honey in panic, and I know immediately that Grady has spilled a secret, one never meant to be spilled.

“Say what now?” My heart hammers hard in my chest.

“Nothing. Forget I said anything.” His tone is soft as he lowers his hand to his waist.

“No, no. I heard that loud and clear. Tell me what you know, Grady.”

“Miss McMillian, I will be waiting in the car for you. Please be ready in twenty minutes.”

“Grady, please.”

He looks at me with gentle eyes before turning and heading gingerly to the door.

My hammering heart leaps into my throat as I race after him, gripping a handful of his suit jacket to keep him from leaving. “Grady. I need to know, please?” My skin becomes moist from instant nerves.

“I can’t help you with this.”

“Why won’t any fucker tell me what the fuck is going on? How do I know Marcus? Have I met you before? Katherine?”

“Abigail, please. I said more than I ever should have. Unhand me.”

“No. You have to tell me!”

Shaking his head, Grady whispers, “I can’t.”

My grip loosens, my stomach drops, and my mind whirls with inconsistencies.

“Abigail, I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, Grady?” I grunt.

“For saying anything.” Slipping his arms from the jacket, he exits using the front door. I don’t allow my eyes to leave him until it shuts.

“What is going on?” I plead aloud. A million questions soar through my mind. Grady’s jacket hangs limply from my fingertips as I realise just how much I want to go home and forget I’ve ever laid eyes on Marcus Klein. Sydney is turning out to be a bigger nightmare than I could have ever imagined.

Breaking Rules

The sound of crystal tinging catches my attention. My eyes lift wearily from the jet-black plate, almost vacate of food. The faces of four Asian people, two women and two men, sit smiling, while a fifth male stands to his feet. He’s much older than the others, a face aged from time. Pleased, he puffs out his chest before tobacco-stained fingers rub at a well-groomed moustache. The restaurant Grady drove us to is small in size, but very public. A busy footpath endlessly fills with commuters as we enjoy our meals. Every time my eyes meet the road beyond these glassed walls, I see passing strangers of all shapes, sizes, ages, and races glancing in. I’m captivated by these five humans who, in this moment, seem oblivious to this invasion of privacy, much too engrossed in their own celebration.

“My beautiful daughter Leeha, how we love you with the entirety of our hearts.” His voice is filled with pride. “Your mother and I…we couldn’t be prouder than we are today. You did it, our daughter, our now graduate. You’re an amazing woman and a wonderful gift to have received. You’ve given us so much, Leeha, and asked for so little in return. For that we’re grateful.”

“Here! Here!” say the voices of their guests as the young woman closest to us wipes at tears falling freely with the backs of her hands.

“Wow! How lovely,” I mutter.

“She’s very pretty, isn’t she?” Grady states the obvious.

“So very pretty and smart by the sounds of that.”

“Yes, smart.” His voice sounds distant. “Miss McMillian, did you enjoy your meal?” he asks, once the celebratory moment settles.

“Seriously, Grady, can you just call me Abigail? I hate being called Miss McMillian.”

“Sorry. Abigail, did you enjoy your meal?”

“Better. And yes. The glazed pork cutlets were delicious as you said they would be. This was just what I needed. Thank you for bringing me here even though I was worried I’d lost my appetite.”

“Well, by the looks of your plate, there was no need to worry. I’d say that meal is demolished.”

“See, hangry.” I giggle.

“I will take note not to cross you when you are, how do you say it? Hangry?”

“That would be a good move on your part.” Placing my knife and fork centred on the plate, I’m satisfied after eating such a good meal. “So, Grady, what’s there to know about you?”

“Not much, I’m afraid,” he answers before gulping a mouthful of water.

“Surely that’s not the truth.”

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Where’s that sound coming from?” I ask, looking around the quaint restaurant.

“That would be my mobile phone. Would you please excuse me?”

“Sure.”

Standing abruptly, he reaches into his pants pocket before answering. “Hello. Yes, sir.”

I watch the entry door open and then close before he’s no longer in view. I can’t help but wonder if Marcus is on the other line and if so, it’s probably time to hightail it out of here before I get this nice driver fired.

“May I get the bill, please?” I manage to get the attention of a tall and curvy waitress.

“Good evening. Yes, of course. I’ll get that for you now. Did you enjoy your meal?” she asks, politely.

“Very much so. It was delicious.”

“Lovely.”

“Sorry, do you have a business card that I could grab?”

“Yes. I’ll bring one back with me if you’d like.”

“That would be fantastic, thank you. This is my first time in Sydney. I haven’t dined anywhere in the city before.”

“Thank you for choosing Alsando’s.”

“My friend outside said it was a nice place. He was right.”

“It truly is. Excuse me, I won’t be a moment.” She strides away and soon disappears.

Life has no limits or boundaries…there are no right or wrong decisions to be made, only differing paths to take on one’s journey.

As each word of the quote that’s written on a blue and white canvas by the bar floods my mind, I wonder if it’s true. Are we just taking differing paths? If you’re cursed, does that mean one’s life is limited with boundaries?

I begin to think deeply about the statement before I’m interrupted by a frazzled Grady, who grabs my clutch from the table and hands it to me with force. Mumbling through a clenched jaw words I cannot understand, his arms flail.

“Grady, slow down, what’s the problem?”

“We have to go now,” he orders.

“Why?” I frown, standing to my feet.

“Because, Abigail, Mr. Klein is not happy with us.”

“It was Marcus on the phone, wasn’t it?”

He nods.

“And you told him we were out, didn’t you?”

He nods again.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because he’s my boss, Abigail. It’s my job to tell him. I’m going to pay this bill, wait here.”

“You are a shitty secret keeper, Grady, shitty,” I yell at his back as he storms off. “Geez, Louise,” I mumble, swinging the door open before stepping firmly onto the footpath. Brisk air rushes over my bare arms and the bottom of the dress I’m wearing rustles around my knees. I’m so mad I can hear my pulse thudding in my head. “Who the hell does Marcus think he is? Better still, who the hell is he?”

Finding myself camouflaged with the many people using the footpath as a means to another destination, I shuffle into the pack. I’ve no idea where I’m going, but the more I walk the calmer I become. Opening the clutch in my hand, I locate my phone. “If anybody is going to know who Marcus Klein is, it’s my mother.” The phone only rings twice before it’s answered.