Page 44 of Last First Date
She powers right on like an out of control steamroller, completely ignoring my protests. "I think you'd be perfect with that Thomas Abernathy, the newest recruit at your station."
I flinch back like she's slapped me. "Mother, what on earth? Thomas Abernathy is a notorious playboy and certainly isn't in the job for the right reasons. He's the first to tell you how good firefighting is for 'getting hot chicks'. Gross."
My mother hums, a sign that she's disagreeing with whatever it is I'm saying. I've heard it often enough to be able to tell the difference between her different non-verbal noises. This is definitely the "no way in heck Darcy" hum she's giving me.
"Well darling, I'm sure you know him better than I do. I was actually thinking about his charity work more than whatever may or may not have motivated him to make a change from the law and get into firefighting."
I narrow my eyes at her. "What charity?"
She blinks at me, the perfect picture of innocence. "It's a nonprofit he founded called First Impressions. He started it to help kids in foster care and poverty get out of that life and hopefully make their way onto bigger and better things." She smiles at me gently. "You knew that though, didn't you? He lost his job with Al Romig over the charity, so it must be a cause he's quite devoted to. One might even think it was rather personal to him."
My mouth is hanging open again, but she doesn't even bother correcting me this time. I feel like I've been asleep at the wheel and am only now waking up to what's really going on with him.
How had I never connected the dots on this? Everyone knows that Romig is a greedy, bullying asshole. I could completely believe that he would be the type of man who would end an otherwise good business relationship because he wanted more money in his pockets instead of being used for the greater good of our children and community.
But how come Abernathy never told me about the dispute with Romig or his foundation? I guess it wasn't his way though, was it. He was the kind of man who would rather do things than talk about them. He'd rather make the good things happen instead of kissing up to the people who were throwing money or political clout around. Huh.
"You really think Abernathy could be a good match for me, mother? He’s a rough, smelly, beer drinking firefighter, you know." I risk meeting her gaze and find her smiling at me fondly, a soft look on her face.
"Darling, I know by now that he's the man that you care for, whether you're ready to admit it to me or not. And I have to tell you, I think he's exceptional. He's spent most of his life overcoming where he came from to rise to the top and do good things. And even though you came from comfort and money and he didn't, that sort of drive to achieve and do good on your own terms is definitely something important that the two of you have in common."
I suck in a sharp breath. "What are you saying, mother?"
"I'm saying that I would be quite satisfied with having a man like Thomas Abernathy in your life. He reminds me so much of the person whom I'm the most proud of, and that's you."
My tears are absolutely ruining my makeup now. I came out here to have it out with my mother about her preoccupation with money and the social hierarchy of our little town of Valentine, and instead she tells me she is proud of me? And then she drops all these truth bombs about Abernathy that I've been closing my eyes to.
I owe him an apology and a real conversation. My eyes skate to the doorway, trying to find his tall figure amongst the crowd.
"Now maybe you should go back inside. It seems to me like you might have some unfinished business with a certain man that I saw you dancing with a little while ago." She shoos me toward the door.
"You know he's never going to be the garden party and ladies' society type, right mother?" I lick my lips, waiting for her to take it all back so I can scuttle home and go hide in my bed instead of dealing with whatever is brewing between me and Abernathy.
Millicent von Albrecht shrugs her two perfect shoulders. "I've been thinking that we could sponsor a new charity next year. Maybe the First Impressions Foundation." She makes that shooing motion again. "Maybe you should go inside and talk to him about it, Darcy."
Hell yes I should. I want to hear all about the charity that he founded, and then I want to kiss him until he's just as obsessed with me as I am with him.
I nod at my mother, distractedly. "Okay, I'm going to go look for him. Right now." But just a few steps away, I turn back and run to her, hugging her close again. "Thank you, Mom."
But back inside the ballroom, the crowd is thick with politicians, their dates, and literally nobody that I want to talk to at all. I try the dance floor where K.T. and Reed are doing something scandalous that has people cheering for them, then the bar which is out of beer, and even go check at the valet's desk to see if they have his car parked. The guy working there gives me a weird look and basically tells me to get lost. I'm definitely giving off plenty of crazy-eye vibes this evening.
I've searched everywhere I can think of, but it seems like Thomas Abernathy actually left. He gave up after all, before I could make things right with him.
I unblock his number and call him, but it goes right to voicemail. I finally head home, but every time I call him, I get the same result. Did he block my number this time?
I think about going to his loft to see him, but when I drive past, the lights are off. I can't tell if he's even at home tonight, and if he's not there or maybe even not there alone, I don't have anyone to blame but myself.
But he can’t avoid me forever. If we have to have a big talk at the station, then that’s how it’s going to be.
Thomas
Seriously, this is the last time I do any lawyer favors for anyone ever again. I’ve been driving all over the state covering these emergency hearings for the mayor when all I want to do is spend my time feeling sorry for myself. Or trying not to feel sorry for myself. Same thing.
At least I was able to get a few days off the schedule to take care of the big legal mess Reed had gotten himself into. And now that I’ve had a sit down with him to talk about his trust, I’m washing my hands of that whole business. No more lawyer crap and no more politics. Ever.
Right now, I’m at the station working out as hard as I can. If I can do one hundred sit ups, I can probably do three hundred. When every muscle in my body aches and burns, it will give me something to think about other than Darcy Albrecht.
Well, that’s how it’s supposed to work, but she's still the only thing on my mind on my mind since the gala. That look on her face when she yelled at me and spun off, leaving me behind with her half empty bottle of beer guts me every time I mentally replay it.
