Chapter 4

"You're late, Abigail." 

She stopped dead in her tracks as she held in a wince. Abigail had hoped that she could've gotten past her boss'  office without him taking notice of her tardiness, but it's like he'd been waiting for her to just pop up out of the blue. 

Abigail spun on her heels with worry etched on her face as she came eye to eye with the man. The manager of SHI Enterprises, who she answered to directly, gazed at her with an arched eyebrow. Since her office was down the corridor from his, she knew it was a long shot trying to sneak past without him realizing. 

"I apologize, Mr. Hasnic. I-" He held up a silencing hand at her, and her heart plummeting in relief when his familiar smile lit his features. 

"No need to apologize, Abi. I can see that you've had a long week. You look a little worn," Mr. Hansic said, meaning it in the nicest way possible, but still oblivious to how it dropped a pang to her chest. "Next time, just let me know when you will be running late, okay? I had to push back a meeting that you were supposed to partake in today." 

Guilt rose in Abi's chest, as she imagined all the impatient workers who would look down on her the minute she walked into the conference room. 

They never actually liked her from the beginning. Most of the permanent employees found it irritating how Abigail was able to get away with certain things that they couldn’t, and she only was a part time worker. Most employees, especially the women, saw the keen interest that Seymour Hansic took in the young woman, and so they would always spread gossip about Abigail sleeping with him. 

Of course, Seymour dismissed the rumors immediately when he heard of them, and issued a stern warning to his staff about  never letting the accusation slip from anyone ever again. But they still had their theories. 

Her work could be stressful at times, but Abigail had to take joy in the small things too. For instance Mr.Hansic's secretary, Camille, was always a darling to her, and so were some of the other workers. The job also paid well, and she'd be lucky if she could score a full time job here once her degree is finally complete. 

Given that she was acquiring her Master's degree, this could potentially land her somewhere a bit higher than a Marketing advisor that she worked as now, and maybe after a few months or years of training, she could be a supervisor. 

That was her dream, and little did she know that Mr. Hansic knew just that. 

"Are you okay?"

"I am, sir. Thank you," she said softly, still not meeting his gaze. He stepped closer to her, and she involuntarily flinched back. 

He frowned a bit, but remembered her state and tried his best to keep himself under control. Abi had to expound very uncomfortably on this 'issue' of hers when she started working here a year ago. 

When her Financing professor managed to get her an interview at SHI, she wasn’t stupid enough to decline the offer. But when she stepped into Mr. Hansic's office and he outstretched his hand for a handshake, her flinching away had almost lost her the opportunity. 

Distressed, Abigail had quickly blurted out everything that happened to her, hoping that he would pity her and  proceed with the interview, as she desperately needed the job. Normally, Seymour would've dismissed the meeting immediately and sent her on her way, but just like Theodore, Abigail intrigued him. 

Since then, only Seymour and her roommate knew the full story behind her state around men. 

"I'll have Camille call for the rest of the people, and have the meeting start in half an hour. In the meantime, you can get yourself settled in and get your reports ready. I'm looking forward to hearing those ideas." His charming smile was contagious, and Abi found herself grinning too. 

With one final wave, she put a pep in her step and made for her small but cozy office. 

She took a big gulp of her coffee, since she had been up studying all night for the test she had this evening after work, and got herself ready for her long day. 

'At least it's Friday,' she thought, surfacing  her extroverted personality that she only portrayed at work. She was in the Marketing department after all. So she couldn’t act shy and secluded, and she also couldn't let people walk all over her ideas. 

With one last glance in her laptop screen at her reflection, she pulled out her binder with her reports, and prepared for the start of a new day. 

***

Exhaustion couldn’t describe what Abigail felt as she stumbled from the cab in front of her apartment complex. 

She was so happy that the weekend had started, so she could sleep in tomorrow before she would leave for the club in the night. 

A shiver ran down her spine when she remembered how her last visit to Vanx club ended. It had been a whole week, and Abi purposely took a break from her night job to recover from it all. Tomorrow would be the first she'd be going after that man drugged her and almost had his way with her. It made her reconsider the idea of continuing her private dances even more. 

But today, the bill for electricity and water was sent to her phone, and she knew she had to suck up her fears and do what she had to do. 

Slowly, Abigail shuffled through her bag for her keys and her phone, wanting nothing more than to fall right into bed the minute she opened her door. The only light she had was the almost blown light bulb ahead of her, and the dim illuminant of the moon that hid behind a few clouds.

"Where are you?" she complained under her breath as she furiously reached for the keys, and she sighed in delight when she finally found them. 

"Hi." 

"Aah!" Abigail screamed on the top of her voice, as her phone and keys went flying to the ground. She was ready to run, but as she glanced up, she saw a familiar but still foreign face in the midst of the darkness. 

"I'm sorry I scared you," Theodore said, mentally scolding himself for frightening her. Even after recognizing him, she was still shaking like a leaf. 

Abigail caught her breath, as she swept a tendril of hair from her eyes that had fallen out of her now messy bun. "That's okay. What are you doing here?" 

What was he doing here? He had no idea. 

Theodore had just returned from Italy this morning, and he hated that he barely got anything done in the week he was away. Sam didn’t even get the earful he deserved, simply because Theodore's mind was all the way back in New York thinking of a curly haired, twenty-four year old woman  with extremely high stress tolerance. 

"I-um. I dropped by earlier today, and your roommate told me you wouldn’t be back until nine. I just arrived." He pointed to his car, at which she followed his gaze to, but that still didn’t answer her question. 

"You wanted to see me? Why?" she asked again, not wanting to sound too rude but she really didn’t understand why he sought her out. After taking her straight to home last week, and even followed her to her door, Abigail thought he'd be done with her. 

She thought he'd feel satisfied that he saved a woman and brought her safely home, and so now he could go on with his life as if he'd never met her. 

Little did Abigail know that this wasn’t Theodore's intentions at all. He didn’t even know his intentions himself, but he simply felt compelled to see her again. 

"I wanted to talk," he decided, seeing it as the most reasonable explanation. But talk about what?

"I'm pretty tired," she told him apologetically. "Could we do this another time?" 

"Of course." He agreed without hesitation. He should've known better than to try and trap her into conversation this late, while she obviously had a long day. 

She was dressed in work clothes, yet she had a book hugged to her chest and a pen stuck in her bun. Had she gone to work and school in one day? 

"I'll be free tomorrow if that's okay with you?" 

"Tomorrow’s perfect. I'll pick you up at nine for coffee?" 

"Of course," she said a little too quickly. For some odd reason, the thought that he'd sought her out to 'talk' had her curious.

 Did she do something she shouldn’t have done last week when she was at his penthouse? Or was he still so inquisitive to try and know more about what happened to her? 

Abi couldn’t tell. But she was far too tired to think too much about it. 

"Great." Theodore smiled down at her. "Can I walk you up? That seems like an awfully dark staircase." 

Abi gulped but nodded nonetheless. A part of her screamed for being so trusting. Why enter into a dark place with a man that showed up at her home at nine in the night? Yet, she recognized something in his eyes when he glanced at the entrance and then back at her. A hint of protectiveness that she only ever saw in her father's eyes. It oddly assured her that he wouldn’t hurt her. 

He kept a few feet between them, remembering her reaction to his proximity as they walked towards the apartment's entrance. Silence sat between them all the way to the third floor, and straight to her door's number before she turned to him with a small smile. 

"Thank you. I think I'll manage quite well from here," she mumbled in slight humour as she twisted the doorknob. 

Theodore nodded. "Right. I'll see you tomorrow then." 

"Tomorrow," she echoed before finally disappearing through the door. 

Theodore let out a breath that he didn’t think he had been holding. What was wrong with him? 

Was he attracted to her? No, he didn’t think so. Not more than a man would be attracted to a beautiful woman. 

So, why did he draw himself to her home twice? Theodore knew that he felt protective of her. He had a little sister, and he couldn’t imagine her going through half of what Abigail went through to be the way she is today. And he also couldn’t get the image of Abigail running down the street, almost naked and in fear because a man had the audacity to believe he could take advantage of her. 

Men like those made him sick, and women like Abigail...well they made him primitive. 

'Women like Abigail.' He didn’t like how the phrase echoed in his head. He didn’t view her as a 'type' or stereotype kind of woman. Theodore believed she was her own unique being. But he strangely wanted more for her. 

He wanted more of her. 

Maybe that was the reason why he'd barely slept for the past week, or why every Italian woman he saw with curly hair would always have him looking over his shoulders thinking it  was her, even though he knew it wasn’t. 

"Get yourself together man," he told himself as he made for the dark staircase again. 

Tomorrow for sure, he'll know what he surely wanted with her. He only needed to figure out what this 'talk' of his would entail.