Chapter 3

Theodore couldn't sleep all night. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was a tiny woman running own the bare streets of Queens, with fear filled eyes and the tiniest piece of clothing a woman could ever wear. 

The sun had barely risen, and he was already in his kitchen, sipping coffee and skipping through yesterday's paper, even though his mind couldn't focus on what he had been reading. 

Theodore positioned himself directly where he knew he would see when she should appear from the stairs, but he had no clue what he'd say or do. 

How would she even react? Will she think he took advantage of her? Maybe. 

After she fell asleep last night in Chris' car, there was no waking her. He tried to wake her to ask for an address, but she was out cold. It was then that he knew she'd been drugged for sure, especially after walking from the car to his penthouse door, and she still didn't even flinch in his arms. 

She felt so small and frail, even cold. The way her eyebrows were set in a permanent knot made him see that she didn't smile much. Theodore acknowledged that a woman so young ought to be at her happiest. 

She didn't look older than twenty-five, yet she was being chased down the street by creepy men, and looking like she had carried the whole world on her shoulders all her life. 

Theodore cursed under his breath when he remembered that he was supposed to get the Italian vineyard under control today, but he didn't feel fit to do any such thing. He'd barely caught two hours of sleep. 

Grabbing his phone, he decided to call his assistant, just in case Jerry had already told her that he would like to arrange a trip to leave.

"Good morning, sir. I trust you slept well?" Amy, his assistant, asked as she tried her best to stifle a yawn. Amy knew damn well that the only time Theodore called this early, was when he didn't sleep well. 

"Yes. Sorry to wake you, Amy. I just wanted to know if Jerry had spoken to you about a flight arrangement."

"No, sir," Amy mumbled, trying desperately not to sound rude. However, 5:30 was an awfully early time to make a business call. 

"I will tell you more about it later on. I won't be coming in today either, so will you communicate this to Jerry-I mean, Mr. Smith?" 

He sometimes forgot that his friendship with Jerry was only between the two of them, and he also knew that there was no way Jerry could've told Amy about the flight just yet. He only wanted an excuse to distract himself from the woman upstairs. A work call was exactly what he needed to do just that. 

"Will do. Is there anything else, sir?" 

"That will be all, Amy. Have yourself a great day." His head quickly whipped around when the small patter of feet filled his ears, and he didn't even wait for Amy's reply as he ended the call. 

He immediately rose to his feet as a very confused woman stumbled down the stairs, rubbing her sleepy eyes and hugging one arm around her waist.

The pull of the chair against the tiled floor caught her attention, and she yelped in shock as she quickly spun around to Theodore's direction. 

She involuntarily dressed back as Theodore slowly walked through the kitchen exit that led directly towards the base of the stairs and into the lounge area, and a familiar glint of fear in her eyes had him stopping promptly. 

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly as he raised his hands defenselessly. It oddly pained him to watch how she eyed him carefully, as if anticipating his attack. 

"Who-who are you? Where am I?" Her eyes searched frantically for something familiar, but she only grew more scared when she found none. 

Theodore studied her, seeing that she was uneasy. It was obvious that she had been through quite a lot. He didn't like it.

"Do you remember what happened last night?" He asked, but regretted it immediately when her eyes widened in horror.

"Did you- did you touch me?" She started trembling, and this only made Theodore more aware of the woman. What had happened to her?

"No," he said quickly. "I didn't touch you like...that. My helper dressed you and all."

It was then when she realized she had been wearing someone's clothes that wasn't hers. In fact, she didn't have her clothes at all. She had no time to grab them last night when- 

"Oh my gosh I was drugged!" It all came rushing back to her, and Theodore blew out a breath of relief when her fear wasn't directed at him any longer.

"You were running down the street," he provided, hoping to drag her memory completely.

She nodded. "I know. After I realized what was going to happen, I ran." Her hands flew to her head as she gripped it, and an involuntary shiver ran through her body. She looked sick, as if she was about you hurl every meal she's had since birth. "I had no clue how I didn't pass out before you saw me." She gulped. "Th-thank you." 

Silence sat between them as Theodore studied her longer. He was intrigued. He felt like he needed to know more about this woman. There was so much he could see behind her dark eyes.

"What is your name?" He finally spoke, and she met his eyes again after thinking about how to dismiss the moment and go home.

She was grateful that he saved her from what could've been the worst night of her life. But she couldn't say she wasn't shaken up by waking up in an obviously rich man's house. 

Just the exquisiteness of the tiles alone could explain it completely. It must've been an angel who sent him last night, but she also knew she needed to leave. She kept people in her life at a minimum for a reason, and the way this man eyed her showed her just enough that he wasn't through with her just yet.

"A-Abigail," she finally said, trying desperately to soothe her nerves. 

Theodore nodded, accepting that much as he moved forward and outstretched his hand. "Theodore."

But she didn't take his hand. Instead, she flinched back as if he had a spider on his finger, taking Theodore completely by surprise and offense.

"Forgive me," she mumbled. "But I don't allow men to touch me."

"It's a harmless handshake."

"That it is. But believe me, I just can't. Don't take my action too offensive, Theodore. I simply cannot help it." 

Despite his offense, he appreciated the way his name sounded on her tongue, and this very phobia of hers intrigued him even more.

"Would you care to join me for coffee then? I promise I won't bite." His lips tilted up in a small smile as he tried to lighten the air with humour.

Abigail was skeptical, as she only wanted to thank this man and be on her way, never crossing paths with him again, as he didn't belong in her world, or she in his. 

But she already offended him once, and she didn't want to offend him further by refusing something as simple as coffee.

So, Abigail nodded once and followed him into the kitchen, where he set another cup to brew. 

Theodore ensured he kept a good five feet between them at all times seeing that his proximity unsettled her. 

"I must say, you have a lovely home. If I hadn't been so confused and scared out of my mind when I woke up, I would've appreciated the exquisite view below. We are far high up, aren't we?" She chuckled nervously at her attempts to make things less awkward. 

The least she could do was have a decent conversation over coffee with the man who helped her, hoping he didn't have any ill intentions himself and had been honest about not touching her last night.

"Indeed we are," he mumbled, not even realizing that he had his eyes narrowed. 

But the way she talked shocked him even more. It was obvious that there were a lot of layers beneath what he could see, but there definitely was an educated brain in there too.

"Tell me, Abigail, what do you do?" 

"Oh." She gulped, nervous. "I'm in my final year of graduate school. Six years of college finally coming to an end." She chuckled again, hoping he wouldn't press more.

But indeed, he did. 

His eyebrows shot up in shock, but he was impressed. "You're obtaining your Master's Degree? In what major?" 

"Marketing and finance. I've always been a sucker for it." 

"And your plans after you graduate?" 

"I would like to visit my aunt for a year back home, but then I'd like to attain a permanent spot at the firm I currently work at part time. It's quite nice," she explained, hoping to end soon. But what harm can come from a harmless conversation?

"You work part time while pursuing a Master's Degree?"

"I have to," she said. "I couldn't be pursuing the degree if I hadn't." 

"Do you live alone?" 

"I have a roommate. She helps me with rent." 

"Were you with her last night?" Theodore asked, simply wanting desperately to know what the hell happened last night. 

Abigail gulped as she grew uncomfortable. She swallowed the rest of the coffee before peering at him.

"No," came her simple reply. But Theodore wasn't letting up. She knew it would've come up eventually, still she wished it hadn't.

"May I ask. What happened last night?" 

'No you may not,' she wanted to say, but she didn't. After all, he seemed nice and she didn't know what he'd be like if should be pissed off.

She gulped again, as nerves rose in her. Would she tell him? Could she?

"I-I don't only work a day job," she said, fingering the rim of her cup. "Let's just say, sometimes things get unsettling."

"There is no shame in your grind, Abigail. You can be open with me," he said, but winced at his choice of words. 

Still, how does she tell him that he didn't need to know anything else about her? They will go their separate ways after this casual morning, and never see each other again. So why must she tell him her life story? 

She didn't have to, and she knew it. But something in his voice and something about the way he spoke told her that he was used to receiving a reply after a question, or in her case, an inquiry that he would require an answer for. 

What could it hurt? He did save her after all. And once she collects her clothes from him or his maid, she could be on her way.

Hopefully he would empathize and send her on a cab, since she left all her belongings at the club last night. Maybe she could walk, but she had no idea how far he lived from her. 

Abigail knew she'd have to go get her stuff from the club too later, seeing that she had no money to buy a new phone, and she needed her purse from her dressing room. She also had a class at 11 today, which she simply could not miss.

So the faster she answered his questions, the sooner she'd be free to go.

'There's no shame in what you do Abi,' she told herself as she prepared to start.

"I work as a stripper at Vanx Club. My day job alone can't pay my bills and my tuition. A year ago, someone introduced me to it and I work three nights a week to manage well, just until I graduate. Living in the city is not cheap." 

That explained why she'd been half naked with high heels dashing down the street. 

Theodore gasped when Abigail pulled the blonde hair that he thought was hers from her head, revealing a dark brown curly mane beneath the wig instead. 

He hadn't even realized that she was wearing a blonde wig, but he couldn't help but appreciate how her natural hair complimented her smooth, olive skin.

He took a minute to really appreciate her dazzling beauty. Though her eyes were lost and far-off, their brown was almost golden with small visible specks of green, and her cheeks were plump, complementing her round face. And her lips... How did she manage to get them so naturally pink? She was a beauty indeed, a beauty that should be happy always. 

"I see," was all he said, though he wanted to say much more. However, another session of silence sat between them as six a.m. struck to existence.

There was so much more that he wanted to ask--wanted to know about her. He suddenly wanted to know why that creep of a man was chasing her, and oddly wanted to protect her from him or anyone similar. 

But nothing else came. He simply processed the few he knew about her, thinking about what to do next.

"This has been lovely and I thank you once again for your kindness. But I must go." Abigail's voice cut sharply through his thoughts and through the silence, and he nodded in agreement, seeing that he couldn't bring himself to ask anything else of her.

But Abigail had taken it wrongly. She thought he was probably wondering why he brought her into his home, and gave her one of his rooms. It hadn't been the first time someone looked down on her for what she did. It was why she wore her disguise when stripping.

Being 'Kitten' was never being 'Abigail' in her world. Kitten, her stage personality and name, was a naughty blonde who did the most exquisite striptease dance that always earned her a lot of tips and admirers. 

What made her stand out, was her personal rule of no physical contact whatsoever whenever she did a personal dance with a man. It somehow aroused them even more, as they would WANT desperately to touch her and feel her curves against their hands. But the minute Kitten inches close, she steps away as soon as their hand reaches out for her.

Little did they know that it wasn't a part of the act, but she simply didn't want them to touch her. When or if a man touches her, her whole body feels like it had been submerged in lava, and her heart feels like it would jump from her chest. 

Abigail only discovered this 'phobia' of men's touch when she settled in New York two years ago. A small part of it had to do with her mother and Mark's relationship,  and a lot to do with her and Nicholas'...

Despite it all, Abigail accepted her life and did what she had to do. If people like Theodore looked down on her, then so be it. At the end of the day, it will only be her and herself. If someone should make her feel bad about stripping, then she ends up leaving, what will she do then? Suffer on her own? 

No. She can't succumb to societal shame. She simply cannot. 

"Of course." Theodore nodded in agreement as he rose from his seat. "I'll drop you home." 

This was his invisible plan to know where she lived, as he was sure he wasn't through with her just yet. 

"You don't have to," she replied quickly. 

"Oh but I must. What kind of a man would I be if I didn't? I insist." The tone of his voice and his stance alone told her that there was no going back, so she reluctantly agreed.

He collected her things and handed her a small drawstring bag with them as he led her through the door.

"I'm sorry I couldn't provide a proper breakfast for you. I didn't expect you to be up so early, and my helper doesn't rise until 7, there about. I'd be happy to take you to breakfast, if you'd like," he offered out of pure courtesy.

"Thank you but you've already done so much. I will make breakfast once I'm home. I appreciate your offer though." 

He nodded at her response, a little disappointed but respected her decision nonetheless.

Theodore remained careful throughout his journey through the building, seeing how she would flinch away whenever they both would reach for a door at the same time. 

He wanted to show her the mere courtesy of being a gentleman, but it seemed foreign to her. 

His mind couldn't get a rest all the way to her apartment, as she directed him.

She lived pretty close to Vintage Wines' head office, which he could recall was a few blocks away from Vanx Club.

Fate. That had to be it. Theodore was convinced that she was meant to run into his life last night. Literally.

He just knew that he couldn't let her slip away.