He didn’t want to murder her because she was foolish, he wanted to shake her for that).
No, he wanted to murder her because she’d pointed out something to Cash that evening that he’d not considered.
And something he couldn’t ignore.
After its dramatic start, the evening had progressed relatively well. The food had not been ruined and Abby recovered from her upset to be a gracious and amusing hostess. This was aided by Nicola and even, to Cash’s surprise, a far more relaxed, friendly and interesting Fenella and Honor. Mrs. Truman maintained her normal surly but hilarious behaviour and Cassandra was an unusual but amusing dinner guest.
Jenny, however, was quiet most of the evening, her face thoughtful, her eyes, Cash found, were nearly always watching Abby, Cash or the both of them together.
When Abby made tactful excuses for Cash to go to his study to work, he’d done so, gratefully, leaving the women to their conversation which had taken an alarming turn to some preposterous-sounding American television show about two “hot” brothers who hunted ghosts.
He was not in his study for long when there was a soft knock on the door.
He hoped it was Abby.
Why he hoped this, he didn’t know. So they could have a moment alone to talk about their dinner guests or to share a bit of quiet. Or, better yet, so he could put his hands on her, touch his mouth to hers, show her nonverbally how much it meant to him that she’d come rushing to the hospital in a panic at the thought he might be hurt.
However, it wasn’t Abby.
It was Jenny.
At his call, she put her head around the door and asked, “Can I have a quiet word?”
At this unforeseen turn of events, he went on guard but nodded.
Then Jenny came in, sat across from his desk and had her quiet word.
Or, more specifically, she had several of them.
And as she spoke, Cash’s hands itched to cup her shoulders and give her a good shake.
For, he found, she had overheard a conversation he had with James at a party some time ago, a conversation Cash remembered perfectly. She had not heard all of it, thankfully, but she’d heard enough of it for her, Jenny, to get the spectacularly asinine idea to pimp out her best friend.
Therefore she knew about Cash and Abby’s initial arrangement because she’d been the person who’d orchestrated it.
He also discovered Abby’s final secret, the reason why Abby sold her body and not her family’s possessions.
Jenny informed him about the enormity of loss Abby had endured the past six years (something he already knew). She also described Abby’s inability to cope with this as each blow landed one after the other (something he also had figured out). Further, she told him about the debt in which Abby had unexpectedly found herself (again, he’d already discovered this fact).
Finally, she explained how Abby had centred her attention on her house as the sole, remaining entity that represented her grandmother, mother, father and, lastly, and most especially, Jenny stressed, Abby’s dead husband, the dear, funny, caring, attentive, beloved, faultless Ben.
Then Jenny told Cash he had to back off, that Abby was clearly becoming confused. She explained to him, carefully, that whatever his agenda was, it was lost on Abby. Whereas he had some final purpose from which he’d move on without Abby, Abby was getting muddled and, cautiously, Jenny shared that she feared Abby’s heart was getting involved.
Therefore, Jenny told him, he had to have a talk with Abby to get her back on track or preferably wind up their agreement and let Abby get back to her “real” life. And, so Abby wouldn’t feel any harm from this, Jenny was perfectly willing to settle any debt that Abby might owe Cash or provide, through Cash, any further payment he might owe Abby.
Cash had been silent throughout her speech and when Jenny stopped talking, she swallowed and stared at him, obviously waiting for his answer.
“Are you finished?” Cash asked, his voice cool and controlled, his thoughts lethal.
“I think so,” Jenny answered.
“Obviously, Abby hasn’t had time to speak with you,” Cash told her.
Jenny’s expression turned confused. “Speak with me about what?”
“If she hasn’t spoken with you, then it’s not my place to explain,” Cash returned.
Jenny squared her shoulders. “If it’s about Abby, then you should tell me. Sometimes she gets –”
Cash cut her off by saying sharply, “Stop.”
Jenny’s mouth snapped shut and her eyes got wide. This was likely because Cash was angry and he’d been hiding it but he had decided it was time to let it show. She’d said enough, he wasn’t going to sit and listen to her belittle her best friend even if it was with the “best intentions”.
He didn’t know what he looked like but from her expression she read his rather severe displeasure.
He spoke again, his voice deceptively quiet but clearly unhappy. “I hope you’ve realised your mistake at encouraging your vulnerable friend to embark on such a,” Cash paused, searching for an appropriate word then found it, “questionable venture.”
“I –” she started but Cash cut her off.
“Luckily for you, Abby isn’t good at being a cold-hearted prostitute.” He watched Jenny blanch and carried on. “From practically the minute I met her, I knew she wasn’t what she said she was. I investigated her, discovered the truth and we’ve moved on from that. I’ll let Abby explain what that means when she’s ready.”
“But –” Jenny started but Cash talked over her.
“As for backing off, that’s not going to happen. Patience and understanding don’t work with Abby. Backing off means Abby retreating and I’m not going to allow her to do that.”
Jenny leaned forward and put her hand on his desk. “You don’t understand, she’s –” but Cash ruthlessly persevered.
“I do understand. I know she’s lost her parents, her grandmother and her husband. I know how. I know when. I know she hasn’t recovered, not from any of it and especially from Ben. I know she’s terrified of living her life and letting anyone in for fear of losing someone else. Even if I didn’t know it, the events of this evening would have demonstrated that fact rather forcefully.”
Jenny closed her eyes and he saw her knuckles get white as she clutched the edge of his desk.
He went on. “Now I’ll explain something you don’t understand.” He watched her eyes open and his gaze locked on hers. “You don’t know me and I don’t appreciate you making assumptions about me or my behaviour or my intent, especially in regards to Abby. I know you’re her friend but it’s none of your fucking business until Abby makes it so. Do you get my meaning?”
She sat back and he saw her teeth clench before she hissed, “Now you’re making assumptions about me.”
“I’m not the one who sat there and calmly described my efforts to pimp out my best friend,” he returned.
“I didn’t pimp her out!” Jenny snapped.
“No?” Cash replied.
She was shifting in her chair, not with discomfort but with anger. “You’ve known her, what? Two weeks? You’ve no idea what she’s gone through, what she was going through. Completely no idea.”
“No, Jenny. I have every idea,” Cash responded evenly.
“You can’t, I’ve known her for decades. I lived through all of this with her!”
“It wasn’t you she threw her arms around tonight,” Cash retorted.
“No, Cash,” she snapped, “it was me who stood behind her when she sat by her mother’s bed, her head on her mother’s hand, when Mom Deux took her last breath. It was me Ben called when Abby lost it when her Dad died. It was me Abby called after the police left when they gave Abby the news that Ben had been crushed to death in his own fucking car. It was me who had to phone Abby when her grandmother died. And it’ll be me who picks up the pieces after you’re through with her.”