Granting one last wish

ABBY

The morning sun is slightly peeking from the curtain of my window right into my eyes. I wake up, and my blanket is wrapped tightly under my arms, and it smells like jasmine and vanilla—the same fabric conditioner they used. Someone must have tucked me in last night. 

I peek through my blanket, and I’m still in the same clothes as yesterday from our flight. Two days in a row now, and I slept with the same clothes. I get up from the bed, feeling lightheaded. I had to sit back to have my bearing. I don’t see my suitcases anymore. I guess one of the staff must have brought them into my closet.

I take off my clothes and head to my bathroom, and I pass by my massive walk-in closet. All my clothes from my suitcases are already hanging according to color. I open the top drawer, and I see my underwear. My makeup, makeup remover, moisturizers, kits, perfumes, and cologne are placed just the way I like. As much as I want to be lazy all day, I have more important things to do than sulk in my room. I decide to go to my bathroom and shower before someone can come inside to wake me up and see me half-naked.

After an eon, I’m all dressed up. I choose a knee-length white dress and Jimmy Choo sandals to match my dress. I put some mascara on and concealer under my eyes. I apply lip gloss too—just to look presentable. I still don’t know anything about Mom’s funeral.

After my breakfast that I asked to send into my own living room, I walk down to dad’s office. I hear murmurs from the inside—I presume, they’re Dad’s friends or Mom’s. I knock three times and wait. Before I can knock again, an unfamiliar deep husky voice says to come in. I hold the doorknob, but someone grabs from the inside, and the door swings open for me.

Shock is an understatement when I look up the man in front of me. The feeling is so strange, igniting every cell in my body that I don’t know it’s possible. I meet the gaze of those beautiful gray eyes surrounded by thick lashes that now I envy. And man, those eyes are so powerful and can hypnotize every woman by just one look. He has a small scar across the end of his right eyebrow, and now, he furrows in confusion. Wait a sec. Why though?

Oh, wow! His hair—thick jet black long wavy hair that touches down his shoulders and slightly tucked behind his right ear. Jeez, he’s perfect with high cheekbones. A nose that is molded to perfection and he has squared jaw with a five o’clock shadow that added to his look—more masculine? And oh, my God, his slightly parted lips are so full and red and kissable. I wonder how they feel against my lips. How do they taste like? And are they soft, warm? Does he apply lip balm?

Oh crap! Did he just notice me ogling him? Because I see the amusement in his eyes, and a smirk curves up his lips.

I swallow and blink twice or three times maybe, to erase those thoughts out of my head. For God’s sake, I’m here for one sole purpose not to ogle at some guy. There are plenty of fish in the sea if I’ll just look around. I can drool every man on earth I want, but not this time. I clear my throat to speak. Before I can say a word, he cuts me off.

“Who are you?” his deep husky voice makes me even shiver—it feels like an ignition to fire deep inside me, which I never felt like this before. This is getting weirder.

“Oh, and who the hell are you? Can you stay out of my way?” I raise my eyebrows and glare, but a six-foot-three or four inches is blocking my way. With his button-down white crisp shirt with two open buttons, slightly showing his hard and broad chest, making me want to run my fingers on the skin if it’s soft against my touch.

Please.

Please.

His sleeves rolled up just above his elbows, showing his strong arms and the tan skin of his arms. And those hands with long fingers that I don’t know how many women—

Crap.

Blame those books I’ve read, and I can’t just avoid the steamy part. My bitchy part starts to sprout like a werewolf ready to shift to wolf form. 

Oh, I’m just a girl.

“I want to see my dad. Now, move, you—” before I can continue, my best friend saves me from whoever this god-like in front of me.

“Abby, you’re awake. How’re you feeling?” He gives me a brotherly hug and kisses me on my cheek. “You look good today.”

“Should it make me feel better, or this is your way of telling me I

looks better too. I guess he must have slept well

met Seb?” He smiles at me that doesn’t reach his eyes, and I

Oh, this must be the hot jerk. God, this has to

back. I mean, what the hell am I thinking? I just lost my mother, and here I am crushing

groan, and I want to

the daughter, Addy.” I hear the

of crap by purposely mispronouncing women’s names. I don’t want to be rude, so I face him. He’s already offering his hand for a handshake. I hesitate, but my dad is around. I’m a good daughter, and I have to

now smiling and showing his perfect white teeth, and Oh, holy mother in heaven, he has dimples, and I’m a sucker. Sam

Can’t he have at least a single flaw? Even the cut from his eyebrow

like I have been charged by a thousand volts that ignite my entire body to full comfort. I feel my blood rushes to my brain, and my heart beats erratically. I’m

instantly releases his hand. His smile

Addy.” He seems sincere in saying

You seem to know my mother pretty well,” I say and sit beside Drew.

my head and sits across me. The hot jerk Seb takes a seat on Dad’s

son, Abby. He took his dad’s CEO position

rich bad boy playboy

Perfect. And he’s bad

to mention I work my ass off. Your daughter might think I just grabbed the opportunity while Dad handed his position to me,” he retorts amusingly. Then he glances at my hand that’s intertwined with Drew’s.

because they own the company, but then he seems to be serious, determined, and smart. Or everything I see in him is clouding my judgment? Still, the playboy and bad boy image, the cocky, arrogant, and assholeness are there, and it’s annoying that those

intimidating if I’m not used to meeting businessmen like him. I can see him

wall, and maybe it helps me distract my

here, heart. I’m still broken and lost. Why do I have to

Abby?” he

finished my junior year. I’m taking Business Management

universities around here, why bother in another state?”

my hand

I look at Dad “I don’t want to depend on from my parents. I’m not just a little princess who plays dress-up, go shopping, and painting toenails.

amazed, but it feels more like an insult

What is this? A beauty contest with Q

and my thick-rimmed glasses, but thanks to Adolf Gaston Eugen Fick and Otto Wichterle, I don’t need any more glasses,” I

and he doesn’t look impressed at all. Mr. Hot

eyes

mom doesn’t want a long funeral.”

down my face. I can’t say

take a huge breath. “It never occurred to both of you that you have a daughter out there who’s missing her parents? You didn’t even bother telling me that Mom was sick again. I thought you both went for a honeymoon. I didn’t know that honeymoon has the same meaning as the hospitalization these days.