High Risk

Chapter 2-2

Abbott tried to stay calm. But there was no discretion to this slut. It was obvious how much she couldn’t wait to get him inside (in both senses). Well, she would have a long wait. She was a fuckin’ animal (also in both senses).

He couldn’t bear to look at her.

Today, she would learn a little lesson. Earlier, in the parking garage, she had said, “I can trust you to be discreet, can’t I? I’m bringing you back to my place only because you’re so special.”

Abbott had wanted to gag on the words. “If you’re so worried about it, why even bring me home?”

“Look, I love my husband, okay? This has nothing to do with my feelings. This is just a little something extra, a little diversion. I don’t know if you understand that, but it has nothing to do with how I feel for Mar—my husband.”

Abbott’s stomach churned. She went on to explain how she never wanted to do anything that would hurt her spouse.

Then what the hell was she doing bringing Abbott home to f**k in the afternoon? Wouldn’t that hurt?

Beth circled the car-clogged streets, searching for a place to park.

“f**k it,” she whispered, throwing the car into reverse and pulling into a spot in front of a fire hydrant. She smiled at Abbott. “I’ll move it later.”

He followed her inside the apartment. He figured she would live in a place like this. Yuppie wonderland. Looking around, he wondered how much the poor slob she had married paid for all of this.

The poor, poor bastard…

“How about a drink?”

Abbott would take anything that would get rid of her for a few seconds. “Got a beer?”

“Sure. I think there’s some Sam Adams out there. That okay?”

“Great.” He watched as she disappeared into the kitchen, thinking how he wouldn’t be surprised if she returned, naked, with his beer.

She came back after a couple of minutes with the drink. It looked like she had fluffed up her hair and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons on the vest. Christ, how many guys fell for this? When she handed him the beer bottle, she made sure their fingers touched.

Abbott took a long swallow. Its cold made his head ache even more, made her presence, as she moved nearer, all the more irritating. To get away, he went and sat on the leather sofa, resting his elbows on his knees.

Like a cat, she was right beside him.

“Nice place,” he said, because she was staring at him, as if ready to pounce. He took in the hardwood floors, the green marble fireplace, the oak tables with their carefully rusted mica-shaded lamps, the jade-and-cream Oriental rug. Everything looked expensive. Wildly.

And that was probably all that really mattered to this b***h.

“I did all the decorating myself.” She said it like it was some accomplishment. Like it was really hard work to go out and have some fag help her pick out a $10,000 sofa and an $18,000 rug. “I might make some changes after the winter, freshen things up a bit.”

Abbott sipped his beer, staring ahead. “Nice. For you, I mean. Your husband must rake it in.”

“He’s kind a whiz kid…an attorney. He’s already a partner in his firm, probably because he’s just about tripled their family law business.”

Family law, Abbott thought, doesn’t that mean divorce? He wasn’t a smart guy, but he knew irony when he heard it. You must be proud of him. Bustin’ his balls for you downtown to get bigger alimonies for his clients while you f**k around behind his back. That asshole should be working on his own divorce. Abbott gripped his beer until his fingers went bloodless. He wanted to swing out at her, watch that pretty face turn bloody as the beer bottle made impact with it. Cool. Stay calm. You’ll get nowhere if you lose control.

“But we don’t need to talk about him.” If possible, she moved even closer, so that he could feel her heat. He tried to breathe through his mouth, so he wouldn’t smell the perfume in which she must have marinated before heading out. The scent even seemed to seep into his beer, making it taste bitter.

She lightly touched his chin and cheek, and he tried not to flinch. She ran a hand over his biceps. “What do you do, Abbott, that keeps you so big and strong?”

He jerked away, trying not to glare, to show his contempt. Her touch had heightened his pulse, made the blood roar. He forced himself to take a slow breath. “Construction work.” He leaned away. “It’s hard, but it definitely keeps you fit. I also work part time, tendin’ bar, down at Bennie’s, on Clark.” He snorted. “I see a lot of women like you down there.”

Careful.

“What do you mean?” She smiled, but something wounded bloomed in her eyes.

He took another sip of his beer. “Nothin.’ Pretty women, I guess.”

“Oh.” Beth settled back into the couch.