Page 7 of Greed

She runs a hand over her straight shoulder-length hair. “We’ll be there. What time?”

I mentally factor in what time I want to be at the office tomorrow. It may be Sunday, but there’s always work to do. “Eleven.”

“Eleven works.” She points toward the extra bedroom she called home while she stayed with me. “I’ll grab my book. I started composing something right before Harry and I got together. I’ve been thinking about it more and more. I’ll tweak it for the first dance at our wedding.”

That doesn’t surprise me. Ava’s piano compositions have become punctuation marks for the memorable moments of her life.

“I’m sure he’ll love that, Ava.”

She bolts to her tiptoes to land a soft kiss on my cheek. “He will. I’ll grab the book and get out of your hair. I’m sorry again for ruining your night.”

“You didn’t,” I say with assurance.

Tonight was a chance encounter with Abigail. It may not have ended ideally, but I have no doubt that we’ll cross paths again soon – very soon.

CHAPTERFOUR

Abby

Droppingmy phone into my lap, I sigh. I tried texting my stepsister, Carrie, to tell her I was headed home, but I got no response.

I envisioned an hour or two of girl talk over a bowl of popcorn and two bottles of chilled, sparkling water.

I shouldn’t be surprised that I was met with nothing when I sent the text.

Carrie Gilbert sticks to a strict schedule.

She gets out of bed at five every morning, regardless of the day of the week. Her bedtime is ten p.m. sharp. I attribute that to her work as a fragrance chemist for one of the most popular cosmetic companies in the country.

Carrie tells me that her sleep schedule will help her avoid all the expensive creams and moisturizers I’ll need in the future since I wear myself out by working too hard with little rest.

I always remind my stepsister that we’re only twenty-eight. I’ll have plenty of time to worry about fine lines and crow’s feet when that time comes. Although, I know I’ll embrace those signs of the passage of time since my mom didn’t make it past her thirty-second birthday.

“Your gown is something to behold.” Rygar glances at me in the rearview mirror. “My granddaughter is a fan of all things princess.”

I smile at the reflection of his eyes. “My friend’s daughter is too. That’s why I surprised her on her birthday today. I thought I would get a bigger reaction.”

He lets out a laugh. “Children are unpredictable.”

I’ll say.

By the time we were tucking Myka into bed for the night, she was talking non-stop about ponies.

“Have you lived in the city long, Miss?”

“Abby,” I correct him as he steers the car through traffic. “For most of my life, but I admit, I like Brooklyn the best.”

“Me too.” His eyes shine bright. “My late wife used to say that it was our pocket of the city, and we fit right in there.”

I feel the same way.

I grew up in Queens, moved to Boston for college, and then back to New York City for law school. After I passed the bar exam, I lived in Manhattan for a few months until Carrie offered me the extra bedroom in her apartment in the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn. I couldn’t turn it down.

It finally felt like I found my home.

Rygar’s phone starts up on a ring.

“It’s Mr. Wells,” he tells me. “I need to take this.”

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