Barbara Wallace - The Courage To Say Yes

“I try to make a point of not judging,” he said as he studied the palm of his hand.

“Really? I think you might be the first.”

Though his eyes remained focused on the ground, Abby saw his cheek tug in a smirk. “Let’s say I’ve learned not to make assumptions about things. Or people.”

“Bad experience?”

He looked up and it shocked her to see how closed off his face had become. As if a steel curtain had dropped over his eyes. “You could say that.”

Abby knew the terse tone of voice. He didn’t want to elaborate. Apparently, she was the only one who was required to share.

“Anyway,” she said, “eventually I came to my senses, and one day while he was at work, I took off with three months’ worth of grocery money.” There was more to the story, of course. Much more. Situations like hers didn’t blossom overnight. But she’d said enough to make her point. Hunter wasn’t the only one who could refuse to elaborate. “Never thought I’d be sitting here, though.”

All right, technically standing. She pulled her sweater tighter. The thing had been tugged at so much she was amazed it had any shape left. She was tired. The day’s events were finally catching up with her, pressing down with an unbearable weight.

“Do you still love him?”

“Good Lord, no,” she replied, surprised at how emphatic she sounded. “Those feelings died a long time ago.” Sometimes she couldn’t believe she’d once cared for the man. “Tell you one thing,” she said, toeing the marble floor. “Six years ago I never would have believed I’d end up here.”

“That, sweetheart, makes two of us.”

The courtroom door opened, preventing Abby from commenting. “They’re ready for you, Miss Gray,” the uniformed woman said.

This was it. Abby looked to Hunter, hoping for what, she didn’t know. “Time to get Warren out of my life once and for all,” she said, forcing a determined note into her voice. It wasn’t until she reached the courtroom door that she added under her breath, “I’m just sorry I have to be here.”

Me, too, thought Hunter as he followed her into the courtroom. There were a thousand better ways he could be spending his day.

She was right; he didn’t have to be here. So why was he? Why on earth had he spent two extra hours sitting on hard marble benches and watching some woman he barely knew fill out forms?

Maybe because you’re the reason she’s here in the first place. If he hadn’t thrown the first punch—the only punch—Warren would never have gone wailing to the police. But that camera was Hunter’s baby, dammit! What was he supposed to do? Just let the jerk damage it?

Yeah, because Hunter’s outburst was all about photography equipment, and had nothing to do with seeing Abby fall backward. He could try to sell himself that excuse all day long. Truth was, he hadn’t gone after Warren until she’d lost her balance. Then Hunter had seen red.

What the hell was wrong with him? His job was to capture action on film, not become the action. Yet here he was, playing hero two days in a row. Civilized society be damned.

After dragging all afternoon, the process in front of the judge moved quickly. Hunter had to give Abby credit. It couldn’t be easy answering the same questions over and over. Although he could tell from her posture that she was wound tighter than tight, the only outward sign of stress were the fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. He found himself wanting to snatch them up and hold them still.

It took less than ten minutes for the judge to approve her petition and grant a temporary order. A member of the sheriff’s department would serve Warren that night. Hunter didn’t miss the way Abby’s shoulders relaxed at the announcement.

“Congratulations,” he said when he met her at the door.

“You make it sound like I won the lottery.”

“You got rid of the ex.”

She seemed far from relieved. Surely she didn’t regret the order?

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped, giving him a dirty look when he asked. “It’s just...” She swiped at her bangs. “I feel like an idiot for buying his act.”

“Happens to the best of us.”

She glanced at Hunter sideways. “Meaning it happened to you?”

“Meaning you’re probably not the only one Warren fooled.” The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside, Hunter immediately making his way to the rear. Truth was, he understood what had happened to Abby all too well.

Shoving bad memories back where they belonged, he continued. “If it’s any consolation, I know his type. Faced with a real obstacle, he’ll back off. Fifteen days from now, he’ll have moved on to someone else.”

“In other words, some other woman gets suckered and goes through what I went through. Lucky her.”

Hunter didn’t know how to reply.

They rode down the three floors in silence. It had been a long day. Stealing a look in Abby’s direction, Hunter regretted packing his camera away. She wouldn’t want to hear it, but her appearance at that moment told a real story. With the fluorescent light casting a gray pall on her skin, he could see the cracks in her stoicism. The pronounced circles under her eyes, the subtle slump of her shoulders. Her makeup had worn off hours earlier and her hair... Her hair was an all-out mess. The morning’s haphazard ponytail was now an out-of-control bunch. Most of the strands had fallen loose, and those that hadn’t weren’t far behind. Made him wonder if her insides weren’t in a similar state.

And, strangely enough, wonder if she could use a hug.

When they stepped outside, shadows were crawling up the sides of buildings, engulfing the lower halves of high-rises in shade. Sunset came early this time of year. In a few hours, the streets would be dark. So much for taking any pictures. His flash and lighting equipment were back at the loft.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked Abby. “Head home?”

Asking only reminded him that he knew very little about her life beyond the diner. Did she have a home? She’d said she’d left with only a few months of grocery money. What kind of apartment did that get a person? He was embarrassed to realize he didn’t know.

“Actually, I thought I’d go back to the diner. I need to talk to Guy about my job. If I still have one,” she added in a low voice.

“I’m sure once you explain the situation...”

From the look she shot him, Abby didn’t believe that possibility any more than he did.

“Sure, he’ll understand. Because Guy’s such an understanding person. I bet when he yelled ‘get out and stay out,’ he was only kidding.”

Unfortunately, she was probably right; her job was history. Hunter felt a little bad about that.

A cab pulled to the curb. He beat Abby to the rear door, opening it and motioning for her to climb into the backseat. “We’re going in the same direction. No sense grabbing separate taxis.”

“True.” Despite sounding less than thrilled, she slid across the leather seat, only to stop halfway across. Holy Mother of— Had she been hiding those legs under that ugly skirt all this time? Her uniform had bunched up, revealing a pair of creamy white thighs. “One thing,” she said. “On the off chance I convince Guy to let me keep my job, there’s something I’d like you to do.”

“Sure.” Still blown away from the legs, Hunter was more than glad to let her talk. Especially if it kept the view from disappearing. “Just name it.” He forced himself to look her in the eye.

The gaze that met his was hot and frosty at the same time. “Find somewhere else to eat.”

CHAPTER THREE

“GET OUT.”

Abby looked over her shoulder, hoping Guy was talking to Hunter and not to her. Apparently her request in the cab had fallen on deaf ears, because the photographer had insisted on following her inside after the cab ride home.