by Maggie Brown
Abby felt her throat swell as if she’d swallowed a chili whole. She peeped at Fiona through lowered lids. The Scot had turned two shades lighter and gave a small shake of the head. Anxious, Abby made a show of looking at her watch. “We’d better get dressed if we’re going out. You go first, Vic.”
“Okay. We can have a few more drinks when we get there. I could do with a hot shower and wash my hair. The pollution was worse than ever.”
Once she disappeared into their bedroom, Abby said in an urgent whisper, “What?”
“Now’s not the time to tell her, lass. Wait until she’s got some nice food in her belly. And she won’t argue in a public place.”
Abby shot her a dubious look. “I hope you’re right. I have a feeling she’s not going to be too happy about it.” She rolled the beer can in her hands. “Do you think you could tell her?”
“Me?” Fiona squeaked.
“Please. She’s gone to all the trouble to plan tours so it’s a cert she’s going to be miffed. It’ll be better if you plead my case.”
“Okay, lass, I’ll tell her, but I still think it’s a shame you’re not coming with us. We’re…we’re going to miss you.”
Abby hugged Fiona quickly. She regretted that she hadn’t already finished the Tokyo designs. Victoria looked so happy to be back. And it gave Abby a hollow ache to think she wouldn’t be sharing Seoul with her friends. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed Victoria until she’d walked through the door.
* * *
Abby found the view delightful. Their balcony table overlooked the towers and statues of Tiananmen Square, ablaze with light. Victoria brought them up to speed with her Shanghai news as they ate the entrée of smoked Norwegian salmon. Half-way through the main course of suckling pig, Fiona sat up straighter. Abby braced herself. Here it comes.
“Abby would like a few days off by herself before we start work again.”
Victoria stopped in the midst of taking a mouthful and lifted her head to stare at Fiona. “What do you mean? Isn’t she coming with us to Seoul?”
“Um…she’s going to a village on the coast so she can paint.”
“For how long?” Victoria turned her attention to Abby. “Well?”
“I was planning to stay for five days. I really want to do some sketches of local scenes and people and I haven’t had a chance to do any art since we left Sydney. The idea is to do small drawings with watercolour. I can reproduce them in oils on canvases. You don’t mind if I spend some time by myself, do you, Vic? I’ll be back by the time we start work again.”
Victoria’s face went blank as she took her knife and began dissecting the pork. “Where will you be going?”
“I booked part of a cottage at a fishing village called Jangho on the Korean coast. It’s a four-hour trip by train from Seoul.” Abby dug in her bag for the printout of the booking. She handed it over in silence and waited for Victoria to read it.
The dark eyes flashed. “So you’ve got everything organized.”
“I think she needs the time away by herself. She’s worked hard and been very good to me while I was sick,” piped in Fiona.
Victoria suddenly looked defeated. Hurt was evident in her voice. “If you want time off, Abby, by all means take it. You’ve earned it. Put a hire car on our tab.”
“I’m quite happy to take the train.”
“Get a damn car.”
A quick retort died on Abby’s lips. She tried to ease the tension between them. “Thank you, I will. I appreciate the thought.”
No more was said on the matter as they began to eat again, though the conversation was more subdued. It was a relief when they finished their meal and left for the hotel.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The holiday in Seoul had lost most of its appeal by the time Victoria went down to breakfast on the third day. Her anger had long since dissipated and been replaced by a needy ache. Sightseeing just wasn’t much fun without Abby; her bubbly enthusiasm made even the most ordinary places and situations interesting. She knew Fiona felt the same by the way she had moped and displayed so little excitement. Victoria grimaced as she spooned some kimchee over her bowl of rice. We’re like two bloody wet rags.
To make things worse, Fiona, a worrywart, couldn’t hide her anxiety for Abby’s welfare, although the younger woman had rung every night in good spirits. Her constant, “I hope Abby’s all right,” rubbed off on Victoria in the end, and now Victoria suffered similar pangs of disquiet. It wouldn’t have been so bad except for the nagging feeling that Abby’s art was simply an excuse to get away from them, or more to the point, from her. Suddenly, it occurred to her that Abby wasn’t alone but with Chantal. All morning she stewed. In the middle of the tour of the Gyeongbokgung Palace, Fiona murmured an apology to the tour guide and pulled Victoria out into the courtyard.
“What exactly is wrong with you, Vic? You’re being downright rude to everybody,” said Fiona, her hands planted firmly on her hips.
Victoria bit back a defensive response. “I’ve worked out why Abby left us. She’s gone there to be with Chantal.”
“Even if she did, what business is it of yours?”
Victoria grasped for a plausible reason. “I don’t want her taken advantage of,” she said in her best schoolmarm voice.
“For goodness sake, you’re always interfering in her life. Just leave her be. She’s old enough to make her own decisions. I went down that road and look what happened. For the life of me, I don’t comprehend what your problem is. Chantal is an extremely nice woman and most eligible.”
“Huh! You were worried about me but Chantal’s different. Is that what you’re saying?”
Fiona looked testy. “You’re being very childish and it doesn’t become you. It was only a flirtation for you, but Chantal’s serious about the lass. Anyway, it’s water under the bridge—they’re not seeing each other anymore. Abby called it off before leaving Hong Kong.”
Victoria’s grey world burst into technicolour and a wide smile spread across her face. “You’re right. It’s got nothing to do with me. Come on, old girl. We haven’t seen the throne room yet; it’s supposed to be spectacular. This afternoon we’re off to see the Seoul Museum of Chicken Art if you’re up to it. It should be interesting.”
Fiona climbed back up the steps with a shake of her head.
* * *
Jangho turned out to be a picturesque spot, with a beach that fronted jagged rocks in jade-coloured water. Tree-covered hills created a backdrop for the tiny village. Abby found it was a haven for folks who loved the outdoor life, and dozens of snorkelers navigated around the rocks throughout the day. The hamlet had no chain marts, and at local markets only fresh food was available. Seafood was popular in the no-frills cafés that lined the main street; octopus was a specialty. Most tourists disappeared back to larger city centres by nightfall.
Sightseeing took only an hour on arrival and afterwards Abby settled down to work on the drawings. Even though it was such a pretty place, her retreat grew claustrophobic by the end of the second day. Abby found the place no fun without someone to share the experience. Being a people person, she couldn’t fathom how anyone got a kick out of travelling alone.
By noon on the third day, the drawings were done and dusted, and emailed off to Akio, which left her wondering what on earth she was going to do. She had no desire to join the swimmers and lacked the enthusiasm to wander around alone. Another two days and I’ll be round the twist. I bet the other two are having a ball. Just thinking of Victoria and Fiona caused an ache deep inside her chest. She looked at her watch. If she left now, she’d be in Seoul before nightfall. After quickly packing and tidying up, Abby delivered the key to the family next door and hit the road.
By six she’d dropped the hire car off and was outside their suite at the Ritz Carlton. Victoria, towelling her wet hair, opened the door. Abby, unprepared for the assault on her senses, flushed as a flood of heat swept over her body—Vic looked ravishing in a silk robe, belted loos
ely. It took a few seconds to lift her eyes to meet the dark ones wide with surprise. “Hi Vic,” she stuttered.
Victoria pulled her into a bear hug. “You’re back!”
Abby registered the pressure of Vic’s nipples against her chest and a thigh pressed against her leg. The scent of lavender soap tickled her nose as she tried to keep her breathing steady. Involuntarily, she slid her body up and down Vic’s before she moved out of the embrace. Victoria stepped back, a pink colour on her cheeks. “Sorry. I’m just pleased to see you.”
“Me too.”
“Is there something wrong? We weren’t expecting you for two more days.”
Without a thought, Abby stroked down the side of the soft face with her fingertips. “Naw. I just got lonely. It wasn’t much fun by myself.”
Wistfulness settled over Victoria’s face as she leaned into the touch. “You missed us, huh?”
Abby poked her tongue over her bottom lip and gazed at Vic’s full, kissable lips. She yearned to press her mouth against them, to run her tongue over them and taste Victoria. She’d been dreaming about doing it for the last two days. Like a magnet, her eyes were drawn downwards to her body and she ached to slip her hands under the robe and cup Victoria’s breasts. Their embrace had slipped the robe open further and offered a tantalizing glimpse of a brown nipple. Victoria sucked in a breath as the dark chocolate areola began to pucker and her nipple firmed. Abby stared, mesmerized—her own breasts responded immediately, becoming full and heavy as they strained against her shirt. Filled with longing, Abby dragged her gaze up to the eyes hooded in the soft light.
To her consternation, Fiona’s bedroom door opened. “Abby! You’re here. What happened?” she asked.
Abby sidled around Victoria to move into Fiona’s outstretched arms. “I missed you both too much to stay away.”
“We missed you too, lass. We’re a bit like party poopers without you to keep us entertained.”
As they hugged, Abby caught Victoria’s eyes over the Scot’s shoulder. They seemed to reflect the disappointment that she knew shone from her own. She hoped so.
* * *
Victoria cursed her traitorous libido as she watched the two women settle into the large leather chairs. She knew Abby had noticed her nipple’s response. God, as soon as it had the attention of those sultry blue eyes, it had just popped out. She waited for her pulse to stop racing. Despite the air-conditioning, Victoria felt hot and uncomfortable and realized she was wet between the legs with nothing on beneath the robe. She scooted into her room and called out as she passed, “I’m going to get dressed. The restaurant’s not formal tonight.”
After another shower as cold as she could stand, she felt composed enough to join the others for drinks.
Fiona turned towards her room. “I’d better get ready as well.”
When the door closed behind her, an awkward silence fell between them. Abby rose after a minute and gave Victoria’s shoulder a fleeting touch. “Would you like a drink? I could do with one.”
“Yes please,” whispered Vic, her throat suddenly dry.
Except for a slight layer of perspiration above her top lip, Abby looked remarkably calm as she handed the glass over. “So what’s on the agenda tomorrow?”
As she answered, Victoria gazed at her with longing. Abby fascinated her more every day. She exuded a startling mixture of vulnerability and sexual power which made Vic’s hormones respond like fire. She’d have to tell Abby shortly how she felt or she’d bust. But she needed to wait for the perfect moment. No stuffing it up this time.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Abby put on the tailored, white coat over the vest and surveyed herself in the mirror. Not too bad at all. Tonight was their last formal function now that their business had been concluded in South Korea. After the five-day break, they’d been busy shoring up deals and the last contract had been signed yesterday evening, much to everyone’s relief. Things had gone along without any hiccups, but during that time Victoria and her relationship had fallen into a lockdown mode. Victoria had reverted back to her just friends attitude and Abby had been reluctant to express her emotions. Abby was beginning to despair that it would ever change.
When Victoria came out of the room, Abby eyed the mid-length red dress with approval. “Wow, that’s a smoking hot dress,” she exclaimed.
“Damn Abby, I let you wear the pants tonight! What was I thinking?” said Victoria with a look of appreciation too.
“I just might take control of you, so watch it, lover girl.” Then realizing what she had said, she stammered, “I wasn’t meaning to…”
“No worries sweetie, I just might let you.” Victoria threaded her arm through Abby’s. “Come, my fine beau, take me to the party.”
Fiona, who had begged off accompanying them—she was “done in” by the sightseeing—indicated her approval with a nod. “My, you look a fine couple.”
Victoria winked. “We might just be mistaken for royalty, huh?”
On the third floor, Abby followed Vic into the Kumkang Room to Minjoom Kim’s table. Minjoom, an official of the giant Korea Midland Power Corporation, their major customer, was hosting the dinner. The other guests were already seated when Abby settled into the seat next to Vic. It took all her concentration not to look down; Victoria sat with her legs crossed and the hem of the dress rode up to expose an expanse of thigh. A high-heeled satin shoe elegantly dangled from her foot. Vic held Abby’s hand and seemed bent tonight on making it plain they were a couple. Normally she was more conservative in public but Abby wasn’t going to argue; she relished the intimacy, even if it was only for show.
Throughout dinner, a theatre troupe entertained with traditional dances on the small stage. Legs concealed by billowing hanboks and accompanied by drums and flutes. The artisans performed a variety of fan and dramatic sword dances, much to the audience’s delight. After the applause died down, Abby had turned to converse with the elderly Korean lady on her left when she felt Victoria’s hand tighten. The pressure firmed until the fingers pressed hard into her bones. She turned quickly to see what was wrong. Vic was staring across the room at a group of men seated in the far corner.
Abruptly, Vic rose and excused herself for an ostensible trip to the loo. Concerned, Abby caught her host’s eye. “Do you know who that group of men are over there, Mr Kim?” she asked.
“We are sharing the venue with members of two conventions; a medical team of West German epidemiologists and a firm of import/export lawyers from the UK. I believe they are the lawyers.”
“Victoria’s upset about something. If you will excuse me, I’ll see what’s wrong,” Abby said quietly, and without a fuss, hurried to the restroom.
Inside, Victoria was hunched over a hand-basin, the white porcelain basin gripped tightly in her hands. Her normal healthy colour had drained away, leaving her sheet-white; she blinked rapidly as if straining to focus. Concerned, Abby immediately draped her arm over her shoulder. “What’s wrong, honey? Just relax now.” She pulled her close and stroked her hair as she whispered soothing words in her ear.
A woman entered the room, looked at them curiously and ducked into a cubicle. Victoria’s body went still and Abby met her eyes in the long mirror. She had a haunted look, her face stretched tight with pain. When two more women came in, Abby took Victoria by the arm and led her down the corridor. She spied a door to a balcony.
Once in the fresh air, Victoria walked to the railing and stared over the city skyline. “I’m all right. I just need a minute to compose myself.”
With long slow strokes, Abby rubbed her back. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s…it’s him.”
“Who, dear?”
Victoria turned to look at her, her face bleak. “My father.”
“What did he do to you, Vic?”
Victoria chewed her lip as she stared out over the buildings again. “It’s a sad story. I haven’t seen him for years.”
“Tell me about it. It always helps to share problems.”
Victoria twisted around, agony evident in her face. “He never made it a secret that he disliked me. I was never good enough for him, he desperately wanted a son. Whatever I did was never right; I never met his standards. He kept telling me I’d end up a good-for-nothing with no prospects. I won’t go into the sordid detail but I’ll only say I had a very strict upbringing. There were few occasions to laugh, and crying wasn’t allowed.” She stopped to take Abby’s hand. “What makes a good parent, Abby?”
Abby gave her hand a squeeze, but said nothing.
Victoria took a deep breath before she continued. “You probably wouldn’t have had to think about it much. Your parents were obviously very loving. My father certainly wasn’t. It was all about his place in society. I listened to him brag about money while he degraded my mother in private. No physical violence, just putting her down all the time. I guess in a way, that’s why I’ve subconsciously shied away from relationships. I’d hate to treat my own family like that. I do have his genes.”
“Don’t be so silly, Vic. Everyone makes their own decisions about how they live their lives. If anything, your upbringing should make you more aware of how not to treat your family.”
“I’ve told myself that but…”
Abby shook her head sternly. “No buts. You’re going to make a wonderful partner and parent. Now go on, why did he leave your mother and you?”
“Things got progressively worse. My announcement that I was gay brought it all to a head. That was the culmination of his disappointment in me, not to marry and give him grandkids—the last straw. He lost control and hit me…hit me hard. I ran to my room and waited until I thought he’d calmed down enough.” A sob escaped from Victoria, causing Abby’s throat to choke up. “An hour later I came out and found my mother collapsed on the floor. I took her to the hospital in a taxi—he’d broken her cheekbone. We never saw him after that day. She received a token out of the divorce settlement; he was a solicitor and knew how to fiddle his accounts. When crunch time came, he had hidden most of his assets. He moved to England, leaving us without financial support.”
