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The phone vibratedon the dining table beside her open laptop. Abby saved the document she was working on and answered the call.
“Hey, babe.” She grabbed her glass of wine and moved to the sofa.
“Hey, beautiful, how was your day?” Scott’s deep voice sounded in her ear, its timbre resonating down her spine and creating tingles deep inside. One thing she did miss when Scott was away was the sex.
“Busy, productive. How was yours?” She lay back against the plush cushions and wondered if she could talk him into phone sex.
“Same. We’ve had some developments in the case which might actually crack this thing wide open.” Scott was a detective in the Robbery and Serious Crime Squad, a promotion he’d worked solidly towards ever since he became a cop. He was based in Ballina but could be called onto a case anywhere in the state. This latest job had something to do with extortion, according to the bits and pieces of information Scott had shared.
“That’s good news.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t look like I’ll be heading home any time soon.” He sounded doleful. “Sorry, babe.”
Abby pouted. “Guess I’ll have to take my physical needs into my own hands.”
“You’re killing me, Abby,“ Scott groaned.That was the point.
“Wanna switch to FaceTime?” She took a quick sip of her wine and put the glass down.
“I wish I could.”
The sudden lift in her mood fell flat.
“I’ve got a video call in five minutes.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound anywhere near as fun as FaceTiming me.” She sat up straight. “Do you think you could take a night off over the weekend? I could fly down, book a fancy hotel on Saturday night?”
“Let me see what I can do.”
She smiled. “Excellent.”
“I’d better run. Love you, Abby.”
“Love you, bye.”
They ended the call and the silence echoed around the cottage. She glanced around their home with a sigh. Cottage was probably an understatement. The house was a fully renovated four bedroom, two bathroom home with an entertainer’s kitchen and dining area leading out onto a generous deck with ocean views. With Rachel’s help, she’d bought the property three years ago—just before she’d met Scott—and used it as a canvas on which she could experiment and perfect her skills as an interior stylist.
The result was an absolute masterpiece, even if she said so herself. It was eclectic, luxurious and comfortable all at once. “A bold statement of individuality,”Belle Magazinehad called it when they’d featured her business and her home almost a year ago. Abby had gotten a lot of work from that feature. Her attempts to pay Rachel back had been declined; her mother insisted it was her right to support her daughter’s career in the same way her own parents had supported her. Albeit from beyond the grave.
Abby had no family aside from Rachel. Her grandparents died in a car accident when her mother was seventeen, and she’d lost touch with her only surviving family before Abby was born. Her grandparents had left their only child a considerable fortune, which meant Rachel had been able to pursue a career as an artist without having to worry about a stable income to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. It had also meant her mum was around when she needed her.
She sent a quick text to her mum confirming it would be just the two of them for dinner on Friday. Abby brought the glass to her lips and took another sip.
Her mind wandered to her friend, Demi. She really needed to check in and see how she was coping without her rat-bastard husband who’d walked out on her and their son. Abby and Demi met on the first day of kindergarten and had been the best of friends ever since. Abby had been there through Demi’s parents’ divorce when they were in high school, had been her maid of honour when Demi married Jake three years ago, and was godmother to their son, Flynn. And now she was holding Demi’s hand through her own divorce.
She found Demi’s number and hit call.
Her friend picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Abby,” she whispered.
“Shit, did I wake Flynn?” She should have thought to text first.
“No, I just got him down and my phone’s on silent. Exiting his room ninja style, as we speak.”
Abby breathed a sigh of relief. At eleven months, Flynn was a pretty good sleeper but since his parents’ separation, he’d become extra clingy and preferred sleeping in his mother’s arms.
“All clear.” Demi spoke at her normal volume.
“How are you?”
