Page 55 of The Friend

“Well, then, there’s your answer.” She stalked across the room, her stilettos clicking against the polished floorboards and echoing in the room, reinforcing the empty echo in her heart.

“You’re wrong about me.”

Abby knew that tone; Judd had it down-pat and used it to great effect when he wanted to get rid of someone he didn’t like or couldn’t resolve an unsolvable problem.

She’d first heard it way back in high school when he’d taken on the biggest bully and won without using his fists. Who needed to resort to violence when the right tone, combined with clever words, could cut someone down to size much quicker? Or when he couldn’t figure out the answer to a complex issue.

Pausing at the door, she turned to face him. “Am I wrong about you, Judd? Really?”

Without waiting for an answer she walked out, wishing she had the guts to slam it like she’d slammed the door on any chance they ever had of a future.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Abby lay the magazine across her desk, pleased with how the photos had turned out. The designers who paid big money to have their clothes featured inFinesse’sSapphire Island shoot would be blown away with the results.

Usually, seeing the finished product of a shoot that she’d had major input in gave her a boost, not to mention a sense of satisfaction, but not this time.

As she stared at the pictures of Tara modelling the stunning summer outfits, and tried not to dwell on the incredible bridal shots of her and Judd, pain wound its fingers around her heart and squeezed hard.

Even now, a week later, she couldn’t forget the look in his eyes when she’d walked out of his office, his pain a mirror image of hers.

Yet it had to be done, and now she’d given her final answer to Mark, she needed to move on and concentrate on her career.

A career withoutFinesse’slucrative offer.

She couldn’t spend countless hours working side by side with the guy she loved, trying to maintain a professional façade. It would be hard enough catching up socially as friendsconsidering the gulf that had opened between them and sadly. she knew they’d never recapture the old Calloway/Weiss magic.

“Ready to go?” Tara stuck her head around the door, looking way too bright and bubbly for Abby’s glum mood.

Nodding, Abby picked up her bag and pointed at the latest copy ofFinesseon her desk. “Have you seen the spread yet?”

Tara nodded. “Sure have. It’s sensational. But then I’d expect nothing less from working with a couple of pros like you and the dream-boat.”

Abby muttered a non-committal answer, grabbed her keys and headed for the door.

“Don’t worry about keys. I’ll drive,” Tara said.

“Since when do you drive when scouting locations?”

“Since now.” Tara poked her tongue out and slung an arm around her shoulders. “Come on. It’ll do you good to sit back and relax, take in some of the scenery. You’re looking like a misery guts these days and I can’t stand it.”

“Don’t look then,” Abby said, hating that Tara was right. She couldn’t stand her reflection in the mirror most mornings, considering her eyes were dull, her hair lacklustre, and her skin pasty.

Not a good look for a fashion stylist, and considering she’d turned Mark down, she needed to get her butt into gear before her business went down the tubes along with her love life.

While Tara hummed, Abby made a conscious decision to stop wallowing. She needed to get back in the game and focussing on work was a sure-fire way to do it.

“Speaking of the dream-boat, he’s the photographer on this shoot.”

“What?” Abby stopped dead in her tracks and grabbed Tara’s arm. “But he works forFinessefull-time. How can he be doing this one?”

Tara tapped the side of her nose and winked. “Special assignment, apparently.”

“Just freaking great,” Abby muttered, releasing her grip and giving Tara an apologetic rub when the model winced.

“Thought you should know, as he’ll probably be checking out the location too.”

Her heart sinking, Abby mustered a smile despite her misgivings. “Thanks for the heads up. It shouldn’t be a problem. We’re both professionals.”

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