Club Abbott: The Deal (Club Abbott Series, #2)

by Hazel Kelly

  I wanted to stay close and keep an eye on things. That way, if Ella asked any tricky questions, I’d be there to smooth over the deception.

  Eventually, though, I accepted that the whole thing was out of my hands and focused on clearing plates and wiping down tables.

  And frankly, from afar it looked like they were having so much fun I started to wonder if Carrie made the same deal with Ella that she made with me. Cause anyone would’ve been fooled into thinking they’d been friends for ages by the way they were laughing and joking with each other.

  Then again, maybe they hated each other and were trying to kill each other with kindness. It was so hard to tell with women.

  Still, from what I could gather during the hour I pretended not to watch them from across the room, it seemed like they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.

  Which was good, especially since I knew now that Ella and Will didn’t have any secrets. I just wished I could see the look on his face when she told him she’d met my lovely girlfriend.

  Even more so, I wished it wasn’t a lie.

  Because she was lovely, and the more I let myself pretend she was mine, the more I wished she really was.

  And while cooling my jets was the last thing on my mind, I couldn’t risk coming on so strong that she might second guess whether to help me with the club.

  Plus, I knew the longer my dad believed I was in a serious relationship, the more likely it was that he’d start to see me in a new light.

  And I desperately needed him to see me for the well-meaning, serious minded businessman I could be… instead of the womanizing joker he thought I was.

  Not that I could blame him.

  I did love a good joke.

  And a good woman.

  When the last table was wiped down, I went back to the kitchen.

  The other volunteers were getting their coats from the storage room, which had been wedged open with a rubber door stop.

  Across the room, Ella and Carrie were leaning against one of the steel counters, gabbing away like they’d rather talk than breathe.

  “Ben,” Ella said, when she saw me approaching with Carrie’s coat. “I didn’t realize you were still here.”

  “Very funny.”

  She punched me playfully in the arm. “I’m just kidding. But, seriously, I’m so glad you brought Carrie along. We had so much fun!”

  I nodded. “I could tell.”

  Carrie smiled. “It was lovely to finally meet you, Ella. We must do something again soon.”

  “Absolutely,” she said, waving her hands in the air. “And I’m obsessed with the snowflake idea.”

  “I’m so glad,” Carrie said, her dimples deepening. “It was just the first thing that came to mind.”

  Ella shook her head. “If that was the first thing that came to your mind, I can’t wait to hear what the second thing is.”

  “We’ll be in touch,” Carrie said, giving Ella a hug.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Do you guys have plans tonight?” Ella asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, handing Carrie her coat. “We’re going to Bellini’s.”

  Ella raised her eyebrows. “Fabulous!”

  Carrie cocked her head at me.

  “Surprise, honey,” I said.

  “Oh my god have you been before?” Ella asked, putting a hand on Carrie’s shoulder.

  Carrie shook her head but kept her eyes on me. “No. Can’t say I have.”

  Ella’s head fell back. “Promise me you’ll get the gnocchi. It’s to die for. And the broccoli flowers to start for sure.”

  I looked at my watch. “We really should be going.”

  “Of course,” Ella said, shooing us away. “Don’t let me keep you.”

  I smiled and turned towards the door, cocking my elbow so Carrie could take it.

  She did, but not without giving me a healthy scowl as soon as Ella couldn’t see her face anymore.

  “That was very presumptuous of you,” she said when we reached the alley, pulling her arm out from mine.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “No?”

  I shook my head. “I figured after that growl I heard, it was safe to assume you were hungry.”

  “And what if I had other plans?”

  “Then you’d cancel them for a chance to go to Bellini’s.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What’s so great about Bellini’s?”

  I furrowed my brow. “You haven’t heard of it?”

  She shook her head.

  “You’re in for a real treat then.”

  “I’m listening.”

  When we reached the sidewalk, I nodded towards the black SUV by the curb. “That’s our ride.”

  “You have a driver?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Like everyone else who’s addicted to Uber.”

  “Right.”

  I opened the door and she climbed in the backseat.

  “So what’s so special about this place?” she asked after we greeted the driver.

  “Well, for one thing, they only have thirteen tables,” I said. “And when they opened, thirteen people bought ‘em.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that, unless one of them is yours or someone who owns one offers to let you use theirs, you don’t get to eat there.”

  “Seriously?”

  I nodded. “Yep.”

  “And one is yours?”

  “My dad’s actually, but he lets me use it whenever I want.”

  “That’s funny,” she said. “I would’ve guessed that you were a Mommy’s boy?”

  I furrowed my brow at her. “Why would you say that?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Your hair.”

  “What’s wrong with my hair?”

  “Nothing,” she said, crossing her legs towards me. “But all moms are obsessed with their son’s hair and all dads wish their sons had conservative cuts like they do in the military. Or like they did in the fifties.”

  “That sounds like a sweeping generalization if I ever heard one.”

  “Maybe,” she said, looking out her window. “But that doesn’t answer the question.”

  “Which is?”

  “Does your dad like your hair?”

  I laughed. “No. He thinks it’s ridiculous, always has.”

  “And your mom?”

  “I don’t really give a rat’s to be honest.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

  “It’s fine,” I said, taking a deep breath. “She’s just not in my good books right now.”

  “Oh.”

  “Forgive me,” I said, clenching my jaw. “That’s not your problem. I shouldn’t even have mentioned it.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “I should probably know that anyway.”

  I cocked my head at her, noticing the way the street lights shone against her blonde hair. “Why?”

  She shrugged. “In case something crazy happens, and I have to pretend to be your girlfriend again.”

  “Right.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Okay.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what your snowflake idea was?” I asked as we pulled up at a stoplight. “Since Ella was obviously delighted with it.”

  “It was just an idea for her wedding.”

  “I figured.”

  “She wants to have a winter wonderland theme.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And she was trying to think of something that would make it fun for people to rsvp.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So I suggested that she enclose an extra piece of paper in the invitation and ask each guest to make a snowflake to return with their card.”

  “Yeah, that’s right up her street. She never has been one to do things the easy way.”

  “And all the guests will be so intrigued to see what she does with the snowflakes that they won’t mind the hassle of RSVP’in
g.”

  “That is kind of clever.”

  “You seem surprised?”

  “I am,” I said. “Pleasantly.”

  Chapter 13: Carrie

  I couldn’t trust myself with this guy.

  Things that were supposed to be normal activities kept getting turned upside down.

  A hungover trip to the grocery store turned into an unexpected kiss. A well-meaning visit to a soup kitchen turned into a full on acting gig and a trip to New York’s most exclusive restaurant.

  I was actually afraid to see what might happen next.

  And yet I couldn’t look away.

  “After you,” Ben said as he held the door open.

  The front room of the restaurant was as cozy and inviting as the pasta smell itself.

  In fact, it was much less pretentious than what I’d prepared myself for, and while I admired the wood paneling and the vast collection of framed pictures on the wall, Ben greeted the hostess warmly.

  Then his hand was on my lower back. “Let’s have a drink at the bar before our meal.”

  I was so startled at his touch that my body went in the direction he nudged me without question, as if I were having an out of body experience. Was this a date?

  “What do you feel like?” he said, leaning an elbow on the bar after he made my coat disappear.

  God he was smooth. Too smooth. “I feel like it’s Thursday.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Have a drink, Carrie.”

  The sound of my name in his mouth was so appealing it made the back of my neck tingle.

  “Fine,” I said. “I’ll have a gin and tonic.”

  The bartender turned to us a moment later, revealing the front of a shiny, striped vest.

  Ben ordered two G&T’s before turning back to me. “They say gin makes you sin, you know?”

  I leaned an arm on the bar and turned towards him. “I’ve heard that, but I’ve had my fair share and haven’t found that to be a case.”

  “There’s a first time for everything,” he said, a worrying glint in his eye.

  I don’t know if it was his unwavering focus on me or the breadth of his shoulders, but he seemed to have more presence than anyone in the room. “So if this place is so hard to get in, how come we just walked in without a reservation?”

  “I told you,” he said. “Cause my dad owns one of the tables, and after I heard your stomach growling earlier, I called to see if anyone was using it tonight.”

  “So they were expecting us?”

  He nodded.

  “I see. And who exactly is your dad?”

  He turned his head and squinted behind the bar. “Let’s see.”

  I followed his gaze, but I couldn’t quite tell what he was looking for.

  “See that picture above the Bushmills?” he asked.

  “The one with three guys in it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “My dad’s the one on the right.”

  “Is that the mayor in the middle?”

  “Yep.”

  When I looked back at him, he was watching me again. “You’re not joking.”

  “No.”

  “What exactly does your dad do?”

  “He owns the Abbott Hotel.”

  “Oh.” Shit. I figured Ben came from money just from his overbearing confidence and the cut of his suits, but I didn’t realize he was Mr. Abbott Hotel’s son. “So that’s who Ella is marrying?” I asked, nodding back at the picture.

  “For better or for worse.”

  The bartender put two drinks down in front of us.

  I picked mine up and took a sip a little faster than was probably classy. Then I looked between Ben and the picture again.

  “What?”

  I shrugged. “He’s a handsome man.”

  “You think?”

  “Sure.”

  “Cause people say we look a lot alike.”

  “I don’t see it,” I lied, slipping my straw back in my mouth.

  “And what about you?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What about me?”

  “Do you always wear skirts to work or was that just something you did today for me?”

  I squinted at him, trying to hide how pleasantly uncomfortable I was that he’d noticed more than my body above the shoulders. “If you’ll recall, I didn’t even know I was going to see you.”

  “Oh right. So I just got lucky?”

  “Lucky I bailed you out,” I said. “What was that charade all about earlier anyway?”

  “Your table is ready, Mr. Abbott,” the bartender said, raising his palm towards the blonde woman who greeted us on the way in.

  “Call me Ben,” he said. “Mr. Abbott is my father.”

  As Ben followed me to the table, I was suddenly conscious of the way my skirt pulled across my butt. It was the strangest sensation.

  I mean, for the last few years, there was only one man whose thoughts about my butt ever crossed my mind, and here I was wondering if Ben- my potential client- liked what he saw.

  Was I losing my mind?

  After we sat down, I was expecting to be presented with some menus, but they never came.

  Instead, the waitress just rattled off everything they had the way someone might if you dropped by their home unexpectedly. Except everything they had in their kitchen sounded completely mouthwatering and full of sex appeal.

  In fact, I was so overwhelmed by the options that when Ben asked if I wanted him to order for both of us, a nod seemed like the only reasonable response.

  Besides, with every passing moment, my hunger level mixed with the cool gin sloshing in my belly was further compromising my ability to think clearly. And that felt dangerous considering the fact that I was seated across from a man who seemed to be more clearheaded than I’d ever felt a day in my life.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I went ahead and ordered, but I’m starving and I don’t think you can go wrong at this place.”

  “Not at all,” I said, crossing my ankles under the table. “Everything sounds delicious.” The sweet red peppers in extra virgin olive oil, the meatballs, the gnocchi, the carbonara tagliatelle…

  “Agreed.”

  “And to be honest, it smells so good in here I could probably fill up on the scents alone.”

  He nodded and leaned back in his chair, his chiseled jaw casting a shadow over his chest. “It is pretty intoxicating.”

  “I imagine this is exactly what Italy smells like everywhere-”

  “Everywhere but Venice.”

  “You’ve been?”

  He nodded. “Lots of times. I went to college in England so my friends and I used to take cheap flights over all the time.”

  “I’ve always wanted to go there.”

  “Yeah?”

  I nodded. “Ever since I saw The Godfather.”

  “That’s my favorite movie.”

  “Me too,” I said. “I’ve probably watched parts one and two as many times as you’ve been to Italy.”

  “What is it that you like so much about it?”

  I draped my hands around the bottom of my glass. “I don’t know. The music, the idea that there are laws that are more important than the ones the government makes…”

  “Sure.”

  “And I’ve always wanted my own consiglieri.”

  He laughed. “What about your assistant?”

  “Nora?”

  “Yeah. Can’t she be your consiglieri?”

  I raised a hand to my temple and shook my head. “That would be the worst idea ever. Don’t get me wrong. She’s great fun and she has a good heart, but you couldn’t set your watch by her much less live your life based on her recommendations.”

  “Too bad. Then again, no one seems good enough after Robert Duvall so if you can’t have him-”

  “Exactly,” I said. “And I’m from a small family so I think I always romanticized the idea of having a big family.”

  “Me too.”

  I furrowed my b
row. “You don’t have any brothers or sisters?”

  He shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Me neither.” I took a deep breath. “I wish I did, though. Not just because it would’ve been fun growing up, but maybe I’d feel a little less pressure to live up to my parent’s expectations if there was someone else they could focus on from time to time.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  I nodded. “It must be even worse for you with your dad being who he is.”

  He shrugged. “I definitely feel some pressure, but he wasn’t really part of my life until recently-”

  “Oh?”

  “My parent’s got divorced when I was little. I grew up with my mom.”

  “That must’ve been hard.”

  “Everyone’s got their woes,” he said. “What about you?”

  “My parents are the most happily married people I know.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Yikes. No pressure, eh?”

  I nodded.

  “Must’ve been hard telling them you called off your engagement.”

  I rolled my eyes. “My dad still doesn’t know. He had a heart attack recently so-”

  “Jesus, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. He’s fine. My mom and I just don’t want to risk upsetting him at the minute, ya know?”

  “So they liked the guy?”

  I shrugged. “We all get it wrong sometimes.”

  He nodded. “Where in Italy do you most want to go?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Florence. Or Tuscany. Maybe Umbria. Then again I’ve heard the north is beautiful, too.”

  “It is,” he said. “I’ll take you there sometime.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Where?”

  He smiled. “Everywhere.”

  Chapter 14: Ben

  I couldn’t remember the last time I had so much chemistry with someone.

  Maybe I was used to having my guard up so I hadn’t actually relaxed around a woman in ages. Or maybe I was so used to looking at them as potential conquests that I ignored everything about them that didn’t support my desire to love them and leave them.

  But I couldn’t do that with Carrie.

  It was like she refused to be seen as less than the dynamic person she was.

  I don’t know if it was her energy, her confidence, or the fact that she was the first woman since Ella that hadn’t thrown herself at me, but I didn’t just want to spread her legs. I was actually interested in what she had to say.