Page 12 of His Weekend Wife

CHAPTER THREE

Knock! Knock!

Ash rolled and felt her body slip off the cushion, then she fell. Thankfully, the area rug softened her impact. She lifted herself up on her elbow and blinked. The sunlight streaming in through the windows illuminated the room. What time was it? And what had woken her?

Pushing herself to a sitting position, she swiped a hand through her tangled hair just as another knock came at the door, this time louder and more persistent. Ash read the clock. “6:27.” Who would be visiting this time of the morning?

Climbing off the floor, she squinted at the ache in her hip and wobbled her way to the door, peering through the eyeglass. Ash hurried and pulled it open. “Abby? What the hell are you doing here?” Her sister stood in the hallway, her long hair piled into a messy bun and she wore large sunglasses that hid half of her face. Her yoga pants and bulky sweatshirt looked like she’d just climbed from bed or worked out, but Ash had a feeling that Abby hadn’t come from the gym. Most mornings her sister didn’t make it out of bed until after noon.

“Abby? What are you doing here?” she asked again.

Her sister slipped into the apartment, laying her change purse and keys on the counter. “Do you have coffee?”

“I was still asleep,” she mumbled.

Abby sighed. “You? I thought you were an early riser?” She stepped into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door. “You need groceries,” she slurred in irritation.

“I don’t need groceries. I’m never home. I’ll make coffee.” She could use a large cup herself. “You haven’t even been asleep, have you?” That would explain the early visit.

Abby shrugged, then took a seat at the small, round table. Ash glanced at her sister while filling the filter with granules and the canister with water. She stabbed start on the coffee maker, then asked, “So why are you here? I haven’t seen you in weeks and you show up out of the blue?” She shouldn’t be angry, but it bothered her that her sister, her best friend and confidant, would disappear for days.

“I need a favor.”

Ash cringed. Of course she does. How could she have believed that Abby would come to visit and have a cup of coffee just to hang out like old times. She fiddled with her keys nervously.

“A favor?” Ash asked.

Abby had a restless energy about her. “You can’t say no.”

“I can if I need to.” Looking at her sister across the space of the kitchen, Ash watched Abby closely. The coffee maker sputtered and the smell filled the air. Needing a good dose of caffeine in her system before she heard what her sister was about to say, Ash took down two cups from the cabinet and poured the coffee. She added sweet cream, handing one over to Abby who still wore her glasses, and still played with the keys. “Okay, what is it?” Ash took a seat.

“You’re going to say no.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but you won’t know until you ask. If it’s money, I don’t have much—”

“No, I don’t want to borrow anything.” There was a slight tremble to her voice.

“I don’t understand. Have you and Phillipe broken up?”

“What makes you say that?” she snapped.

Ash shrugged. “Just wondering. I haven’t seen you without him hovering over your shoulder the last ten times I’ve seen you.”

“Let’s not get into this.”

“I’d certainly not want to say anything negative about him,” Ash sniffed.

“This was a mistake.” Abby grabbed her keys and knocked the table as she stood up. Coffee spilled from both cups.

Ash caught her by the wrist. “You coming here is never a mistake. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” Abby nodded and sat back in the chair, more tendrils of hair fell to her cheeks.

“Why don’t you take the glasses off? Are you too cool now?” Ash chuckled.

“I—I have a hangover.”

“Bad excuse.” Ash reached over, grabbed the glasses and tugged them off her sister’s face. “There, I can see—” The oxygen dissipated as Ash grappled with the image before her. A large, purplish-blue bruise covered her sister’s right eye. “What the hell. How did you get that?”

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