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Authors: Serafine Laveaux

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BOOK: Disciplining Little Abby
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You didn’t ask permission,
she thought wildly just as the lights burst behind her eyelids and her world faded away.

As she lay sprawled across the desk, her mind drifting and disconnected, she felt Chris’ lips brush against her cheek. In a gentle voice, he whispered in her ear, “I will go with you on Saturday.”

Chapter Ten

 

 

All across the Metroplex the summer heat had taken its toll on the plants and trees. What had been green and lush in the spring was rapidly turning to brown now. At least it was until Chris turned the chopper into the winding drive leading up to the Willis home. Abby had told him her mother employed a gardener, and Chris suspected the man spent most of his time watering the lush landscaping. Waving grasses and yellow flowers guided him up towards the front steps, and perfectly spiraled Junipers flanked the front entrance, their bases buried in the neon green of potato vines that spilled over the edge of the urns and cascaded to the ground.

A pink Cadillac was already parked in the drive, and Chris knew it belonged to Abby’s younger sister, Julia. He maneuvered the chopper to the side of the Cadillac, killed the engine, and waited for Abby to dismount. When she didn’t move, he glanced over his shoulder and saw her chewing her lip nervously.

“Come on, babygirl, hop off so Daddy can get off too.”

He watched her take a deep breath as she swung her leg over the rear of the bike. Stepping away, she cast a furtive glance towards the front entrance, then back at him.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she blurted out as he dismounted. “If they start in on me, I don’t know if I can behave.”

Chris put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “You will behave,” he said softly as he guided her towards the front door. “If you think you can’t, then take a time out and come sit on the bike until you can calm down. Understood?”

She nodded, but he could tell she was regretting her decision to agree to his terms. She’d already tried to back out before they’d left, and it wasn’t until he tucked her blanket and Mr. Jingles into the saddlebags on his chopper that she agreed to see it through.

When she’d come to him just days earlier and begged him to come with her, he never suspected how much trouble she’d be once she got her wish. More than once he kicked himself for not making her promise to behave not only at the dinner, but every day leading up to it as well. Just getting her into the outfit he’d chosen had been a battle. It wasn’t fancy, just a simple navy blue sheath dress with matching navy ballerina flats. He’d brushed her hair until it lay sleek and shiny, then pulled it into a simple ponytail at the back of her neck. For makeup he allowed her to wear a thin coat of mascara and some soft pink lip gloss, nothing more. Her usual chipped black nail polish was quickly stripped away, replaced by the palest pink polish. Throughout it all, she’d rolled her eyes and whined and generally acted like a brat, despite him swatting her on the bottom several times.

Her attitude didn’t change until he handed her a small giftwrapped box. With a squeal she’d ripped the wrapping paper off, and as her eyes fell upon a chunky silver Hello Kitty bracelet and a thin silver necklace with a tiny Hello Kitty charm hanging from it, her petulant attitude evaporated.

“I don’t want my girl looking too grown up,” he’d told her as he’d fastened the necklace for her. The playful jewelry made the outfit her own, and when he saw the way her eyes shown as she looked at herself in the mirror, he thought perhaps the dinner might not be a total disaster after all.

“You look lovely,” he whispered, reaching up to ring the doorbell. “Trust me, that will blow their minds more than any smart-mouthed remark you could possibly make.”

 

* * *

 

Her mother opened the door almost before Chris’ finger left the button. Abby suspected she’d heard the motorcycle pull into the drive and rushed to the door to see what sort of undesirable had mistakenly come to her home. For an instant her mother’s usual composure faltered, and Abby was gratified to see that at least for a moment, her appearance threw her mother for a loop. She felt Chris’ fingers tighten slightly around her own, and she recalled him telling her to wait until they were invited in. It seemed absurd. After all, she’d grown up in this house, but she willed herself to hold still and introduce Chris as he’d instructed.

“Mother, I want you to meet Chris Antonopoulos. I hope you don’t mind that I asked him to join us.”

This time the look of confusion didn’t vanish as soon as it appeared, and Abby had to force back a giggle. Chris had promised her that being polite would fluster her mother far more than being rude, but she never would have believed him until now. Smiling, she waited patiently for her mother to recover.

“Well ah, yes, come in, come in,” she stammered, stepping back and motioning for them to enter. “I do wish you’d told me to expect another guest, Abby,” she admonished as they came inside. “You know I have these dinners planned for a specific number.”

“Don’t worry, Mother,” Abby smiled sweetly. “I knew you were probably very busy, so I took the liberty of calling Evangeline yesterday and letting her know.” Before her mother could react, she tugged Chris’ hand and quickly pulled him into the kitchen.

Evangeline was a tiny French woman whose temper was nearly as famous as her cooking skills. Abby had loved and admired her since she was a child, partly because she called the girls her kittens and slipped them cookies when their mother wasn’t paying attention, but mostly because Evangeline was the only person Abby had ever known her mother to be afraid of. Elizabeth Joan might make her husband and daughters cower in fear when she felt crossed, but when she stepped into Evangeline’s domain, she showed nothing but respect.

The petite brunette was in the middle of scolding one of her assistants when she spied Abby and Chris coming into the room. In a flash she crossed the room and embraced Abby enthusiastically. Grabbing both of her hands, she held Abby’s arms out to the side and whistled approvingly.

“My goodness, look at my little dark kitten! You are beautiful! And who is this?” she asked, sizing Chris up with a wicked leer. “Look at this handsome bad boy at your side.” She held a hand out to Chris, who took it gently and raised it to his lips briefly, his blue-green eyes never leaving her. Abby giggled as Evangeline’s face turned a brilliant pink and she backed away, fanning herself dramatically. “Oh, he is trouble, I think,” she teased, giving Abby a wink before returning to her preparations. “But I like him!”

“She likes me,” Chris chuckled as Abby led him from the kitchen to the den, where she could hear Julia and her father talking. “She’s not the one you have to worry about,” Abby whispered. Neither were her father or younger sister, who looked delighted to see them both when they entered the den.

“Oh wow, look at you!” Julia jumped up and ran over to Abby, bouncing up and down with excitement as she demanded her older sister turn around and around again. “You look so amazing!”

Blushing, Abby turned from side to side as both her baby sister and father admired the outfit Chris had picked out for her. Having her father and sister smother her with compliments made her like it that much more, though the attention made her blush. She wasn’t used to being complimented.

Without waiting for Abby to make introductions, Julia stuck her hand out to Chris and introduced herself. Abby’s father came over and quickly shook Chris’ hand as well, welcoming him to their home. As they proceeded to pepper him with questions, Abby spied her mother and Eva standing in the hallway, watching them and whispering to each other. Eva’s eyes went to Abby, but when she realized Abby was watching them she gave their mother a nudge. The pair of them fixed their eyes on Abby and gave her a long stare. Without realizing it, she reached out to take Chris’ hand, squeezing it nervously.

 

* * *

 

Chris glanced at Abby and saw her face had grown pale. He followed her gaze and saw her mother and what appeared to be a younger version of her mother glowering at her from the hall. When they realized he had noticed them, their expressions never faltered. Their mutual distaste for him was clear, as was their hostility towards Abby. Elizabeth Joan stepped into the room long enough to announce dinner was ready, then the two women retreated to the dining room.

“Wow,” he whispered softly so that only Abby could hear him. “I think the temperature just dropped fifty degrees in here.”

Julia and Mr. Willis headed towards the dining room, leaving them alone in the den. Chris pulled Abby closer and kissed her on the cheek. “You look beautiful, babygirl,” he said gently. “Now remember, no matter what happens, you act like a lady. Understood?”

She stared up at him sadly and nodded. The pain in her eyes made his chest hurt.
No wonder she’s built up so many walls
, he thought. Mr. Willis and her younger sister seemed like great people, but the way they’d fallen silent when Mrs. Willis entered the room told him everything he needed to know about this particular family dynamic. Squeezing her hand one last time, he led Abby into the dining room to join the rest of the family.

As they entered the dining room, it was Chris’ turn to fall silent. Abby had warned him that the dinners were elaborate affairs. After all, her mother ran a high end catering company. Freshly cut flowers, carefully folded table linens, crystal wine glasses, and fine china came together to present an image that seemed to have been pulled straight out of a magazine. The places were already set with a bowl of soup, and it appeared Mr. Willis had already made quick work of his first glass of wine.

Chris pulled the seat next to Julia out and seated Abby, then took a seat beside her. “This is amazing, Mrs. Willis,” he said sincerely. “It’s easy to see why your catering company is so successful.”

She blinked, clearly taken aback by his compliment, and Chris had to turn his attention to the soup to keep from smiling. As he tasted it, she cleared her throat. “Please, call me Elizabeth Joan. And thank you, I’m quite pleased with where it’s at today, though it took many years to get to this point. I started the company when I was about six years younger than Mallory, as a matter of fact.” From the corner of his eye, he saw a look pass between mother and elder daughter, and knew the game was about to begin.

“So, Chris,” Eva said as she wiped imaginary water spots from her soup spoon, “what do you do? I imagine those tattoos limit your career options.”

“My college professors would agree with you,” he agreed with a smile. “Fortunately, my clients are more interested in my bikes than in how pretty I am.”

“Bikes?” Eva’s brow furrowed. “Do you mean motorcycles? Like that one in our driveway?”

“Chris designs and builds custom motorcycles,” Abby said. “He owns a shop near downtown.”

“Oh, so you’re a mechanic,” her mother sniffed. “And how did the two of you meet?”

“By the way Chris, that soup is supposed to be cold,” Eva said lightly. “Just in case you thought we’d forgotten to heat it up.”

“Abby and I met through a mutual acquaintance, Mrs. Willis,” he answered, deliberately ignoring her request to call her by name. With a bored glance at Eva, he added, “Naturally, how else would you serve Carrot Vichyssoise?” From the other side of Abby, he heard Julia sputter into her wine glass. “Wonderful version too. Reminds me of some I had at the Four Seasons last time I was in New York.” Glancing sideways, he caught Julia’s eye and gave her a wink, causing her to quickly cover her mouth with her napkin.

“Well, at least you own your own business,” her mother sighed. “Eva and Julia both have successful careers of their own, but try as I might, I have failed to convince Mallory to follow our leads. You can’t imagine how it pains me to see her waste her life at that magazine.”

“It’s a newspaper, Mother—”

“Abby said you design the bikes,” Julia interjected, quickly cutting Abby off before things escalated. “Do you have a base design you work from, or is each bike completely different?”

It was easy to see why Abby loved Julia. Chris suspected she often put herself in between the combatants in hopes of keeping the peace. As they finished their soup, he explained to her the process, from listening to the client’s hopes and likes, to the drawing board, to the final creation. From across the table, Abby’s mother and older sister sat quietly, biding their time.

Two uniformed women came to remove the soup bowls and replace them with salads. As the one placed his before him, she whispered softly. “Outside fork, she’s watching.”

He suppressed a smile as he reached for the outside fork and sampled the salad. Ordinarily he disliked poached eggs, but he wasn’t about to give the two vipers across the table the satisfaction of seeing him balk at eating anything. The runny texture set badly on his tongue, but the rest of the salad was delicious. Just before the women left the room, the one who had served him glanced back and gave him a wink.

“Well, personally I feel they’re dangerous, and that beast you came here on looks like a deathtrap,” Elizabeth Joan sniffed. “However, I must say you seem to have a positive influence on Mallory. She looks quite nice this afternoon.”

“Normally Mallory dresses like a Bratz doll,” Eva laughed. “This is the closest to an adult she’s ever looked, except for the Hello Kitty jewelry.”

Chris slipped his hand under the table and lightly squeezed Abby’s thigh in warning. Under the circumstances he thought she was staying surprisingly calm, but if the backhanded compliments and obvious sniping continued, he doubted she’d stay quiet much longer. Her mother and sister’s constant use of her hated given name hadn’t gone unnoticed by him either. It was clear the two were determined to get a rise out of her, and he had no doubt that when it happened they wouldn’t accept a bit of the blame for any of it. It was like watching middle school girls at lunch, only in better surroundings.

“I picked that out for her,” he said. “I thought it suited her personality.”

Mrs. Willis stared at him in disbelief, her forkful of salad greens frozen halfway to her mouth. “It’s jewelry designed for children,” she snapped.

BOOK: Disciplining Little Abby
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