Page 24

Abby wanted to point out that she’d been standing there for at least a minute before Gloria had bothered to raise her dyed-platinum head.

But again, her boss. Not for her to argue.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“I’m going to need you to work tomorrow.”

Abby froze. That wasn’t happening. Normally, she’d take all the extra hours she could get her hands on, but she’d gotten through today by telling herself she could relax tomorrow.

“I can’t.” The words left her mouth before she even thought them.

Gloria’s bright blue eyes narrowed. “Rachel needs tomorrow off and I need you to cover for her.”

She wanted to ask why Rachel needed the time off, because she was pretty certain it was because Gloria wanted her to go to the club with her tonight. Republic was the place to be seen in Wishingbone. Not that Wishingbone was trendy. It wasn’t a big city. However, if you wanted to be seen, you went to Republic.

She should just agree to work the shift. She didn’t want to get on Gloria’s bad side. She had the habit of exacting revenge against those who pissed her off. The only reason she’d never turned her bitchiness on Abby was because she barely even noticed her.

“I don’t feel well,” Abby told her, surprising herself. Since when did she lie? Although it wasn’t entirely a lie. She was feeling flushed and light-headed, but she knew that was from exhaustion not a virus.

Gloria waved a hand away. “Are you contagious?”

“No,” she admitted.

“Then you’ll be fine. You do look like shit, though. You might try putting on some make-up. Our customers don’t want to be put off their food.”

The insult sucked the breath from her lungs. It hurt. And she wished to hell she could tell Gloria where she could stick her job. But unless she wanted to end up homeless or find herself missing a few fingers or toes then she knew she couldn’t say a word.

“I’ve got you down for the early shift. You can go now.”

Abby just turned away. She hated being stuck. Hated feeling like a coward. But what choice did she have?

So, she turned around and shuffled out the door.

By the time she got home, she was so tired she could barely see straight. She stumbled into her house, shuffled down to the bathroom to grab some painkillers and wash her face. Then she moved into her bedroom, pulled on her pajamas, threw her uniform into the laundry pile, pulled the curtains and slid into bed.

Bliss.

Kent pounded on the door again.

No answer.

Where was she? Her car was in the driveway. Had she gone for a walk? In this neighborhood? Okay, so it was the middle of the afternoon and probably safe but he still didn’t like the idea.

Overprotective much?

He knew he shouldn’t feel this protective of someone he wasn’t involved with. And he definitely had not intended to find himself here today.

But he couldn’t ignore the urge to check on her. Especially after Macca had told him how slowly she’d been moving this morning. He’d also made Kent aware of the state of her car’s tires and that it needed at least a tune-up. He’d be talking to her about that as well. Didn’t she know how dangerous it was to drive around on bald tires?

Images of her skidding off the road, crashing, injured or dead filled his mind. Anger pounded through him at the thought and he banged his fist down on the door again.

“Abby! You okay? You in there?”

Still no answer. What if she was ill? What if she’d fallen and hurt herself? Worry mixed with the anger.

She could just be asleep. Or have gone for a walk. He knew he should walk away.

But he wasn’t going to.