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“I love her,” Warren murmured.

But Abagail wasn’t sure about that either. He loved that Nicola was there, that she wasn’t the one to break it off with him. And he definitely loved that she needed him. Beyond that? She wasn’t sure. And she had no idea how Nicola felt. It wasn’t something they’d discussed.

“Nicola doesn’t care about money.”

Abagail frowned at that. She didn’t believe it. All she’d seen from Nicola was her caring about money. Perhaps Abagail had been wrong to think there was anything else there. She’d gone from Warren, who supported her financially, to Abagail, who was doing the exact same thing.

“I want you to get a job,” Abagail said, trying to change the topic. She wanted to stay as far away from Nicola as she could, especially when she was talking to Warren. “Get a job, keep it for six months, and then we’ll talk.”

“But Aunt Abagail, how am I supposed to do that?” He looked like he was going to cry.

Abagail shook her head. “Figure it out.”

“But how?—”

“Warren,” Abagail said in a warning. “That’s the point. Figure it out.”

He stared at her in disbelief. Abagail wasn’t going to give on this one though. She didn’t say anything as she waited for him to give up and leave. It didn’t take long—after a few more attempts to get her to change her mind, Warren left the office.

Thirty minutes later and Abagail still couldn’t clear her head and focus. She threw her hands through her hair and packed up her bag. Walking directly to Ivy’s office, she popped her head in. “I’m leaving for the rest of the day.”

“Everything all right?”

“Fine. Just taking a personal day.” Abagail started to turn away.

“You don’t take personal days.” Ivy’s voice stopped.

Abagail turned around slowly, facing Ivy again.

“What’s going on? That’s the second time he’s come in here to terrorize you.”

That was a good word for it. And neither time had Abagail backed down. This time she’d actually call it a win. Abagail’s shoulders dropped in defeat. Who was she kidding? Warren had taken something from her when it came to the persona she liked to have in the office, and he’d made it impossible to keep it.

“Family drama. Something you’re very familiar with.” Abagail stared at her directly. The implication was that she didn’t want to discuss it. She’d never truly pried about Ivy’s divorce. She’d taken what information Ivy had given her, but she’d never tried to get more than what Ivy was willing to give. “He won’t be in again. And if he is, I’ll file trespassing charges.”

“Seriously?” Ivy stared at her in awe.

“Absolutely.” Abagail left then. She wanted to go home and escape the mess that Warren had made.

Once inside her house, Abagail relaxed instantly. The house was quiet, it was hers, and it was exactly what she was looking for. Immediately, she walked up the stairs to her bedroom. By instinct, she walked to the small safe in her closet, opened it, and pulled out the ring that Warren had wanted. It still sat nestled in the box, winking at her in the light.

He did deserve to find someone who actually loved him and whom he loved. She just didn’t think that Warren was anywhere near that. She snapped the lid shut on the ring and shoved it back into the safe, locking it. When she walked out of her closet, she spotted Nicola standing in her doorway awkwardly.

“Did you want to talk?” Nicola asked.

Right.

That.

Abagail had insisted on a conversation, but after her run-in with Warren that day, she wasn’t so sure that she wanted to do that anymore. It’d be better if they went their separate ways now, wouldn’t it?

“I didn’t think you’d be home this early,” Nicola went on when Abagail didn’t immediately answer her.

Was she nervous? Abagail shut the door to her closet and stepped closer. Her brain was working slowly, moving at a snail’s pace. She walked directly to Nicola, cupping the back of her head and pulling Nicola in for a kiss. Nicola grunted, her teeth gnashing against Abagail’s lips before she parted her mouth and opened for the kiss.

Abagail turned her, pushing her into the doorframe and closing her eyes. She focused on sensations, on touches and fingers, on Nicola’s hands against her back, her ass. On the way Nicola’s breasts pushed into her own each time she took a breath.

“No,” Abagail whispered against Nicola’s lips, “I don’t want to talk.”