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Abbie gives me one long look and her smile fades. “What’s wrong?” She hurries forward and stops on the other side of the island with Dexter making some crazy chirping sound at her side.
She’s worried, really worried, but she manages to look at Dexter, cup his face and whisper, “I love you, too, boy,” because apparently, dog chirping means “I love you.” Who knew?
She continues to rub him and looks at me. “What’s wrong?” she repeats. “Tell me before I go nuts here.”
I offer her the cup of coffee I made for her. “I was just bringing you a coffee in bed. You ruined the surprise.”
“Gabe,” she warns. “Please. Tell me what’s going on. I know you well enough at this point to read you.”
A profoundly impossible statement that she’s made possible. I set the cup down. “Let’s go sit down.”
“No. Let’s not go sit down. Tell me now.”
My cellphone rings and I glance at it where it rests on the island to find Reese on the caller ID again. “What does he know that I don’t?” Abbie asks.
“I need to take this, baby. Give me a minute and—”
She pushes off the island and walks toward the window, which is a win, considering a few days ago she would have run for her clothes and the door. Progress, it seems, is the bright side of this morning gone wrong. She kneels to love on Dexter, letting him comfort her, and I swear my cold heart warms.
I answer the call. “Reese.”
“You heard?”
“Yes.”
“And that one-word reply tells me that Abbie is there and doesn’t know yet.”
“No. She doesn’t.”
“Why?” Reese presses. “She needs to know.”
“I’ve known about ten minutes, man. I need at least ten minutes and thirty seconds.”
“We should meet sooner than planned. Let’s have coffee. It might calm Abbie enough for her to really talk to me.”
“We have the press all over us.”
“You’re resourceful. Meet me at the coffee shop on 15th. No one will be looking for us there.”
“That’s not secure enough. We’ll stick to the plan. Your office.”
“We’re swarming with press.”
“But not press intended for us and it’s secure there. We need secure.”
“Right. Have it your way. I’ll send Walker to get you. I’m about to get on the phone with Abbie’s mother.”
“Does she know?”
“Not yet. That’s why I’m about to get on the phone with her. More soon.”
“When do you want us?” I ask.
“I have ten piles of disaster growing in my office. The sooner the better.”
“An hour.”
“One hour,” he agrees. “Cat’s joining us.”
