Reunion With Benefits. HelenKay Dimon

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       Four

      Abby kicked off her high heels and dropped down on her sectional sofa. Next, she propped her feet up on the round leather ottoman in front of her. If she had the energy, she’d change out of her work clothes. She picked dropping her head back against the cushions and closing her eyes instead.

      The condo was on the seventh floor of a securebuilding that sat a block off of Logan Circle. The trendy area became trendy during the last decade. Now galleries and restaurants and fitness studios lined the streets. Several parks nearby provided great places to run and bike, but she tried never to do either. She preferred walking the city and turning her muscles to mush in kickboxing classes.

      She picked the building because of the location. She was able to get in on the newly refurbished space before the prices skyrocketed and used a work bonus to do it. Now she laughed when she heard what people were willing to pay for studios on lower floors in the building. It was an odd feeling when the place you lived became a place you likely could no longer afford if you were trying to buy right now.

      There were four condos per floor and those were serviced by a private elevator. A penthouse stretched the full length of the building on the floor above but there was never any noise up there except when the couple who lived there threw one of their lavish rooftop garden parties. She’d never been invited but she loved sitting out on her tiny balcony and listening to the music and laughter as it spun through the DC night.

      The best part of the building was her neighbor—Jackson. His two-bedroom also had a den. She didn’t need the extra space or the bigger price tag, but she loved having him close by. The man appreciated takeout. One of his many fine attributes.

      The door opened after a quick knock. She didn’t get up because she didn’t have to. She’d texted Jackson as she walked in the door. She wanted Chinese food and could almost always convince him to share with her.

      “You’re drinking wine already?” He laughed as he relaxed into the corner seat of her sectional.

      She opened her eyes and looked at him. He’d stripped off his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his shockingly white dress shirt. His hair showed signs that he’d run his fingers through it repeatedly during the day.

      He really was attractive. Those big eyes and the athletic build. Decent and smart. Hardworking and compassionate. Funny. And she felt nothing but a big loving friendship for him.

      Clearly there was something wrong with her. She knew what it was and didn’t try to hide it. “Spence.”

      “Ah.” Jackson reached behind him to the table that sat there. “Here’s the bottle.”

      Abby watched Jackson fill a glass for himself then put the bottle on a wooden tray on the ottoman for easy reach. If they were going to talk about Spence, and they were because she needed to blow off some of the frustration pinging around inside of her, then she might need a second glass.

      She skipped over the kissing part of the afternoon and how that rocked her so hard she’d spent the rest of the day brushing her fingertips over her lips. “He talks and I want to punch him in the face.”

      “That sounds like a healthy reaction.”

      She ran her fingers up and down the stem of her glass. “Doesn’t it make you frustrated, having to deal with the Jamesons and their money and power and bullying behavior?”

      His eyebrow lifted. “Are we still talking about work?”

      “He makes me...” She couldn’t even find the right word. Hot, angry, spun up, frustrated. They all fit.

      “Want to punch him.” Jackson toasted her with his glass. “Yeah, I got it.”

      “I love Ellie. She’s funny and smart and charming and doesn’t take their crap.”

      “Sounds like someone else I know.” When she frowned, he kept talking. “It does. You don’t get onto the managerial team at a family-owned company unless you’re good. You’re damn good.”

      “Like you?” She knew the truth. Jackson was a star at work. Derrick depended on him. Everyone did. Even she did. If you needed an answer, he likely had it.

      He acted as if he were thinking something over. “Maybe I do deserve a raise.”

      “I’m tired of all of it.”

      “Wait.” He put down his glass, took hers and did the same with it. “That sounds suspiciously like you’re thinking about finding a new job and leaving.”

      She felt a little lost without the glass to grab on to and started talking with her hands. “Don’t you toy with the idea? Leave, open your own place. Do some consulting.”

      “Sounds risky but potentially rewarding, except for the part where you’ll work round the clock, be panicked about finances and eat peanut butter for every meal so you can stockpile cash.” He shook his head. “I’ve already lived that life. I really don’t want to go back.”

      They shared a similar background, having been raised by single moms who barely earned enough money to keep the lights on. But he hadn’t been alone. He had a sister, a twin. But it had just been Abby. She depended on her mom until the day she lost her, and she’d mourned her every day since. Missed the vanilla-scented shampoo she used. Her smile. The way she laughed at bad horror movies. That loss, so deep and raw, never disappeared. Moving forward became easier but was never easy.

      But this was about her, and her work life and figuring out the best choice for her, separate from the Spence piece of the puzzle. “Me, either, but I’m not afraid of putting in the hours.”

      “I don’t doubt you at all.” Jackson studied her for a second before picking up her wineglass and handing it to her again. “Not to bring up a rough subject, but you know Eldrick is coming to town, right?”

      Spence’s dad. Abby despised the man.

      “What?” The glass slipped in her hands and wine splashed over the side and dribbled down her hand. She caught it before it hit her light gray couch or her silk СКАЧАТЬ