Make Me (Broke and Beautiful #3)(18)

“My father isn’t running the hedge fund anymore.” As soon as the words passed her lips, a stack of wet newspapers slid from her shoulders. “He . . . can’t. That’s why I’ve been working so much.”

Her friends were silent a moment before Honey spoke. “I don’t understand. Why can’t he run his own company?”

Abby bit into the cupcake and chewed slowly, so she’d have time to decide on the right words. She hadn’t anticipated telling anyone about this tonight, so there was no ready explanation. There was only the truth. A truth she’d been warned to keep to herself. “A little over a month ago, my father went on a golfing trip to Scotland. Alone. It was really odd timing, but the first quarter had been stressful, so my stepmother and I didn’t make an issue out of it.”

Roxy and Abby traded a look. Obviously, this wasn’t what they’d been expecting. Well, they could join the party because she hadn’t expected it either.

“While he was in Scotland, he . . . locked himself in his hotel room and refused to come out.” She grabbed a cushion and stuffed it behind her head, her neck suddenly too tired to function. “The staff eventually entered and found him . . . they found him huddled in the bathtub. He’d had some sort of mental breakdown. It was the pressure. It had gotten to him, and there were drugs involved, too. He couldn’t cope.”

“Oh, my God,” Roxy said. “Abby . . .”

“My stepmother went over with a therapist and Mitchell, the company’s lawyer, to bring him home. He’s getting better—much better—but he needs more time.” She reassured each of them with a look. “I’m just keeping things afloat until he comes back.”

Honey appeared to be frozen in horror. “There’s no one who can help you?”

“No one can know. Investors would pull their accounts, we’d be bankrupt within a week.” Although her legs felt liquefied, Abby stood, needing to stress the importance of keeping quiet to her roommates. “I’ve been acting as my father. Answering his correspondence, making decisions based on what he’s done in the past. Mitchell has circulated a story about his pursuing investment possibilities overseas, and everything is operating as usual.”

“Except you,” Roxy pointed out. “You’re dead on your feet.”

“I’m fine.” Her voice was firm. “I’m mainlining Red Bull, but I can quit any time.”

“That’s not funny,” Honey said. “You’re downplaying.”

Yeah, she was. And she owed them better than that after all the happiness they’d brought into her life. God, had she even been living before they showed up? “Okay, I’m treading water.” Their shoulders sagged. “But there are no other options. I’m not going to let my family’s livelihood tank for eight hours of sleep.”

“Does Russell know about this?” Roxy asked, effectively sending Abby’s stomach dropping to the floor.

“W-why would Russell know?” Just saying his name made her lips feel numb. When Honey and Roxy sent each other an unreadable look, Abby frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” Honey said. “It’s just . . . you two are close. And you know how Russell is . . . he’s protective about you.”

“He would flip out, is what Honey’s trying to say.”

“That’s not true.” Especially now. After she’d deceived him into giving her an orgasm while he hadn’t been fully conscious then let her know that he had no desire for a physical relationship with her. Roxy and Honey were right about Russell’s being protective, though. She thought of the way he’d carried her to the fireworks, how he always checked her window locks and killed spiders for her. How whenever the girls went out alone, he lectured her about not leaving her drink unattended. How he insisted on a clear, concise text message the second they walked into the apartment. Russell really was a good friend, and she’d lost sight of that in favor of physical release. No wonder she hadn’t heard from him in two days. Somehow, starting tomorrow, she would repair this. She wasn’t willing to lose him as a friend because of some silly, fleeting crush.

Even though it didn’t feel like a simple crush. Not like the ones she’d had before on classmates or tutors. Crushes didn’t make you shiver straight down to your private parts at the mere thought of their names. A crush didn’t make you slap your own bottom late at night, trying to re-create the same wicked hot sensation he had made you feel with that one, beautiful strike, to no avail.

“You’re thinking awfully hard over there.” Honey looked almost hopeful. How odd. “Come to any conclusions?”

“Yeah.” Abby smiled. “You were both right.”

Roxy gathered her hands beneath her chin, eyes widening. “We were?”

“Yup. I need some sleep.” Feeling better after having revealed her secret and having a plan to make Russell forgive her, Abby headed for the bedroom. “G’night.”





Chapter 7



USING POWER TOOLS was probably the worst way to celebrate a hangover, but since Russell had been in this condition three days and counting, it was no longer a viable excuse. Mother Nature had sent rain New York City’s way, so he and Alec had weatherproofed the Manhattan worksite that morning, giving him the remaining daylight hours to work on the Queens house.