“It’s about time.” she laughs.
She pulls me in for a tight hug, squeezing me around the shoulders. After returning her hug, I pull away, looking around at the near-empty street. This intersection isn’t as busy as the streets closer to Logan’s restaurant. Vacant warehouses and office buildings line the street, the occasional small café peppered between them. A total of two people walk past us in the time Abby and I stand at the curb.
“What are we doing down here?” I ask her.
“Come on.” She grabs my hand, pulling me down the sidewalk. “I have something I want to show you.”
Abby drags me along a few of the vacant office buildings before halting us to a complete stop.
She raises her arms, showing me the building in front of us. “Ta-da!” she announces. “What do you think?”
The building in front of us is completely empty and the windows are fogged over. An old sign hangs above the front door, the words almost impossible to read. I think I make out the word ‘travel’ something. The inside of the building appears to be covered in a thin film of dust. A poster with a picture of an airplane flying over a tropical island hangs off the wall. Old travel brochures lay scattered across the floor and tops of desks.
“Um,” I take a few steps forward up to the dusty old window, peering inside. “What is it?” I close my hands around my eyes, pressing them against the glass to get a better look. The entire floor is matted old carpet, portions ripped, exposing the damp concrete underneath. In the back corner is an old computer, most likely straight out of 1995. The space is filled with old metal desks and wooden chairs.
“It’s my new office,” Abby says. “I bought it earlier today.”
I step away from the glass and turn toward Abby wide eyed. “Really?”
“Yes. Do you like it?” Her eyebrows arch onto her forehead as she stares at me hopefully.
“I mean...” I shrug, spinning back around to look through the window again. “It needs a bit of work, but I think it’ll be a great spot for your business once it’s fixed up.”
“Let’s take a look inside.” Abby reaches inside her bag and pulls out a set of keys. She unlocks the front door and as soon as she pulls it open, it hits me.
“Wow.” I wave my hand in front of my face. “It’s pretty musty in here.”
“It is.” Abby keeps walking farther into the space, seemingly unfazed by the smell. She leaves me by the door. With the way this place smells, I think it’s best if I keep myself near the closest exit. To be honest, this room gives me the chills. I can’t explain it. Dust particles float through the air, the small amount of light filtering through the dark windows highlighting them as they swirl in front of me.
Abby stands near the side wall, fanning her arms out. “I’m thinking I could put my desk over here.” She turns around, pointing to the wall. “And my logo could hang up here. What do you think?”
I look around the room, trying to imagine what it’ll look like when it’s fully operational. I peek my head around to get a better view of the entire space. There’s a small dark hallway leading to a back door, beside it is a small window. The window is covered in dust as well.
“I think it’ll be great.” I walk closer to where Abby is standing. To my right is an old wooden desk chair. I swipe my finger across the top, a thick film of dirt coating my finger. “Once you bring it into the twenty-first century.” I smirk at Abby, hoping she won’t be offended by my humor.
She laughs under her breath, walking toward the chair. She takes a seat and crosses her legs. The wood creaks as she sits back against it, shifting the old, stubborn wood. “What?” she asks me. “You don’t like it?”
I lift my leg and tap the seat of the chair with the tip of my shoe. Abby spins, the creaking wood echoing in the open space. The sound lingers and the chills I’d felt when I first walked in, reappear, prickling down the back of my neck. Abby spins completely around, using her feet to stop herself in front of me.
“I think this place is perfect.” Her violet eyes shine against the darkened room.
My phone dings in my pocket and when I pull it out, I read a text from Logan asking if I’d met with Abby yet.
I look up from my phone. “Hey, want to grab some lunch at Logan’s restaurant?” I point to my right. “It’s actually just a few blocks that way.”
Abby’s smile fades. She stands up and shrugs. “Sure.” The sigh that follows her agreement doesn’t go unnoticed.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just figured we were close by and Logan offered.”
“No, that’s okay.” Abby grabs her bag. “We can go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.” Abby hooks her arm in mine. “Logan said he’d treat me to lunch. Let’s see if he can stick to his word.”
My stomach twists with an ache I can’t explain. Something in Abby’s statement brings me back to what happened the other night with Logan and his mention of Natalie.
We leave the building and walk the three blocks to Bistro 59. As we get closer to the restaurant, the streets quickly begin to fill. It’s like night and day between the several blocks. Odd how just a few yards back lies a ghost town, a near-empty version of the bustling city everyone seems to know.
Once we make it to the restaurant, I swing open the front door, letting Abby in first. Hushed piano music plays overhead and the sound of quiet chatter follows suit. I didn’t tell Logan we were coming to the restaurant, only that I’d met up with Abby. I’d wanted to surprise him, hoping to keep the slow momentum we were beginning to build back into our marriage. Something shifted between us. It wasn’t just Abby’s sudden return to our lives. It was more like we were slowly taking steps to letting go of Julian. We were ready to let go of the possibility of his return and deciding to simply just live our lives.
Emily, the hostess, recognizes me immediately from behind the large mahogany stand. Behind her on the black wall is Bistro 59’s large bronze lettering. Emily’s white collared shirt is tightly pressed, and her black tie is tied perfectly around her neck. “Oh, hi, Mrs. Moore.” Her megawatt smile stretches across her soft cheeks.
“Emily, I told you that you can call me Lena. Mrs. Moore sounds so formal.” I giggle.
“Sorry.” She winces. “Habit, I guess.”
“That’s okay.” I give her a smile. “Is Logan here? My friend and I were hoping to stop by and see him and to grab some lunch.”
“Um, yeah,” she says, glancing over her shoulder to the kitchen door. “I think he and Natalie were back in the prep kitchen.”
“Oh. Well, do you mind letting him know Abby and I are here?”
“Of course. I’ll be right back.” Emily leaves us, headed straight for the kitchen.
Abby and I wait near the front of the restaurant. Several minutes pass when Logan still hasn’t appeared from behind the large metal swinging door.
I can feel Abby lean toward me, whispering in my ear. “Do you think he’s okay? It’s been a while.”
I open my mouth to answer her just as the swinging door flies open. Logan appears behind it. His face is serious as he crosses the dining room. At first, he doesn’t notice me but as soon as his eyes shift to the front, he smiles at the sight of me. The first expression on his face has me wondering what or who put it there to begin with.
Logan smooths his hands down the front of his chef jacket. He straightens his growing hair, running his fingers through to the ends. His tongue slides inside his mouth, moving from one cheek to the other. I can tell he’s eating a Tic Tac.
When he reaches me and Abby, he leans forward and kisses me. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Yeah,” I attempt a small smile, again ignoring the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I hope that’s okay?”
“Of course, it’s okay, Len.” He slides the Tic Tac to the other side. “I was just showing Natalie the prep for dinner. She’s still learning the menu.”
I nod, swallowing the uneas
iness threatening to rise. Get a grip, Lena.
A woman emerges from the kitchen, crossing the dining room in the same direction where the three of us are standing. She’s dressed in a chef jacket similar to Logan’s but instead of silver trim, hers is accented in white. The name ‘Natalie’ stitched on the corner of her chest. Her black hair is tied into a high bun, accentuating her narrow face. She appears young, not a single wrinkle or crease etched into her smooth skin. She’s beautiful, I’ll give her that.
A knot forms in my chest as she grows closer. She stands beside Logan, nudging him with her elbow. “The onions and carrots are all sliced, ready to be put in the stock.” Her cheeks blush and I hate the way it makes me feel. The way she stares at my husband. There’s a gleam in her too young eyes and I suppress the urge to call her out on it.
Her still gleaming eyes shift to me. “Hi, I’m Natalie. The sous chef here at the restaurant.”
I nod, tilting my head forward. “Hi Natalie, I’m Logan’s wife, Lena.”
Her smile falters slightly and her body shifts. I hold my arm out, placing it on Abby’s back. “This is my friend, Abby.”
Abby and Natalie stare at one another for a few seconds of silence. Finally, Abby reaches her hand out. “Nice to meet you, Natalie.”
Natalie smiles back, returning her handshake. “You too.”
I ignore Natalie’s narrowed eyes studying me and turn my attention back to Logan. “Abby bought an office space just a few blocks over so I figured it would be a great time to stop over for some lunch.”
“Congratulations.” Logan shifts his gaze to Abby. His eyebrows dip before settling back into their natural place. “So close to the restaurant.”
“Yeah, well this area has some prime real estate. Thought I’d jump on the opportunity before I let it pass,” Abby says.
“That’s smart.” Logan looks back to me. The air between us is lingering with awkwardness and I’m not sure why. Abby and Logan had never been too close back in Providence. Considering I was still in a relationship with Julian, my time with both Abby and Logan were limited. When I wanted to spend time with Abby, Logan never complained. He said I deserved to have time with Abby all to myself.
Natalie standing inches from my husband isn’t helping matters either. The knot in my chest has only tightened, pulling on its own strings.
Logan trades glances between me and Natalie. He finally turns to Natalie. “Do you mind getting started on the stock? I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Sure.” Natalie smiles at Logan then says goodbye to me and Abby before she spins on her heel, disappearing back into the kitchen.
“I’ll show you both to a table.” Logan tips his head back toward the dining room and we both follow him. The knot slowly starts to unravel the farther Logan takes us away from where we had met Natalie. Uneasiness settled there, not understanding what her intentions were with my husband. She didn’t act like a normal employee. She was too close and too cozy standing next to him.
Logan takes us to the far wall of the restaurant, the one lined with large floor to ceiling windows. We have a perfect view of the water.
Boats line the piers, several of them floating out in the distance.
Emily passes our table. Logan grabs her attention before she makes it back to her host stand. “Emily, do you mind grabbing Lena and Abby two glasses of ice water and whatever else they would like?”
“Of course.” Emily turns on her heel, heading through the kitchen.
“I’ll head back to the kitchen to make your lunches. We’re serving a margherita pizza with goat cheese and arugula. Is that okay?”
“Sounds delicious.” I stare up at Logan with a grin. My stomach grumbles as if it heard Logan’s promise of food.
“Sounds good to me,” Abby says.
“Should only take about fifteen minutes.” Logan bends, planting a kiss on my forehead. His lips linger a bit longer. It isn’t long enough to be noticeable to Abby or anyone else in the restaurant. But I can feel it in the way his warm lips meet my skin. I close my eyes, savoring the moment before it vanishes.
And then he vanishes. I watch his back as he disappears behind the swinging door. Back to where Natalie is.
“Do you know where the bathroom is?”
I snap my head to my left to find Abby staring at me. She’s sitting across from me, porcelain plates and linen napkins between us.
“Uh, yeah.” I blink several times then point to the back corner. “They’re back there, down the small hall. It’s the door on the right.”
“Cool.” She stands up, wrapping her purse around her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
Once Abby’s gone, I turn my attention back to the window. An old man down by the dock, bends down, unraveling the rope tying his boat to the pier. The rope is long, and it takes several minutes for him to get it loose.
I wish I could say that my thoughts don’t completely wander but I’d be lying if I said they weren’t. I couldn’t wrap my finger around it. Something was off between Abby and Logan. And there was certainly something off with Natalie. I still didn’t understand why I had reservations about her. My husband never gave me any reason to question him.
Either way, I couldn’t ignore that damn annoying pit sitting at the bottom of my empty stomach.
“Oh. Thank God.” Abby is back from the restroom, lifting the glass of wine that’s been placed in front of her plate. I hadn’t even noticed Emily bringing us the wine. I didn’t even order it.
The rest of lunch flies by without any sign of Natalie. Logan brought out our plates, only stopping long enough to chat for a few minutes. My mind was somewhere else. It was with Logan, but it wasn’t.
Once we’re finished with our lunch, Logan meets us by our table and walks us to the front of the restaurant. Abby walks ahead of us, clearly ready to head back to her new office. We’ve nearly made it to the door when Max walks in.
He’s wearing a crisp, dark blue suit and a smile to match the bright color of his red tie. His black hair is slicked back, the scruff lining his jaw a little longer than the last time I’d seen him.
“If it isn’t Mrs. Lena Moore.” His introduction is a little over the top but that’s how Max has always been.
He leans down to give me a hug. My too small arms wrap around his muscular frame. “It’s good to see you, Max.”
Logan shakes Max’s hand, updating him on a few things about the restaurant.
Max’s eyes shift in Abby’s direction the whole time Logan talks. When he’s finished, Max shoves his hands in his pockets, leaning back as if he’s admiring her. “And who is this gorgeous woman you have with you?”
“This is my best friend, Abby." I place my hand on Abby’s arm. “She just moved here not too long ago and is opening up her new business a few blocks over.”
“Really?” Max’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. He winks. “A woman in charge. I like that.”
I roll my eyes and so does Logan. Logan shakes his head, crimson flushing his cheeks. He turns to Abby. “I apologize for my boss, Abby. He can be a little forward sometimes.”
Abby laughs. “I don’t mind at all.”
Max sticks out his hand. “I’m Max, the owner of this restaurant.”
Abby leans forward, returning Max’s handshake. “It’s an incredible restaurant you have here. The food was delicious.”
“Thanks.” Max lifts his hands and claps them together. “Say, why don’t we all have dinner here Sunday night? It’s our least busy night so it won’t be too crowded.”
Logan and I turn to Abby, waiting to hear her answer. She looks between me and Logan before turning back to Max.
“Good with us.” Logan shrugs, giving me a smile across the circle we’re standing in.
“I’m in,” Abby says. Her smile is nearly as big as Max’s.
“Great,” Max says, cheerfully. “We’ll meet here at seven.”
Logan says goodbye to me and Abby before he follows Max to the kitchen. We walk the sever
al blocks in silence. I don’t ask her about Max’s enthusiasm toward her and she doesn’t ask me any questions about him either.
It’s not until I’ve said goodbye to Abby and I’m on my way home that it dawns on me that we never even went over the mock-up for her business logo. Guilt lodges itself against the pit in my stomach, the same one that’s made its home inside my body the last few hours.
If I thought I was a terrible friend for leaving Abby in Providence, I sure as hell was proving myself right
I pull into my driveway just as small rain drops fall from the clouds above. They splatter across my windshield, sounding like tiny taps pattering against the glass. The heavy gray clouds fill the sky and thunder rumbles in the background. A typical Seattle day.
My phone chimes twice from inside my purse. I fish it out, unlocking the screen to find a new email sitting in my work inbox.
The email is from an address I’m unfamiliar with, but I open it, thinking it must be a new client. Immediately, that growing pit in my stomach swells, bile rising in my throat. I reread the words typed out, their bold lines forming words I refuse to believe are real.
Are you sure he loves you the way I do? I don’t think you understand how far I’ll go to keep you mine. Do you think he would do the same?
I reread the words ten more times before I know I’m not dreaming. The words are real, and the email is real. There’s no signature, there’s no name to the email. But like the note left on our bed back in Providence, I don’t need a name to know who it is.
The address isn’t one I recognize. Generic, leaving no indication of its owner.
My hand flies out, frantically fumbling for the handle to my driver’s side door. I finally catch it, swinging it open, bending over just in time for my entire lunch to hit the concrete down below.
Mine: A Romantic Suspense Thriller (A Back to Me Series Book 2) Page 7
