Waiting For You (10 page)

“Please, don’t cry,” he said. “It breaks my heart to see you like this, knowing I can’t do anything about it.”

Her heart twisted, but she wiped her tears and nodded. “Once again, you’re correct. I shouldn’t cry. If my father chose to have an affair with one of his servants, that was his decision. Who was I to stop him? Besides, that was in the past. It’s over now, and I need not worry about anything but my future.”

Nick gave her a tender smile. “That’s my girl.”

Her stomach fluttered at the endearment. Why hadn’t she been fortunate enough to meet a man like him in her lifetime? Were there men like him in the early 1900s? If there were, had she been too blind to see them? Actually, it was her father who’d kept most men away from her.

Nick pulled away and stood. “I need to get home. It’s late.”

“Yes. I shouldn’t expect you to be here all weekend just for me.”

“I’m very tired. But I promise to come see you tomorrow.”

“No. You need to get rest to be alert for your real clients.”

He tilted his head. “And you’re not a real client?”

“No. Have you forgotten? I’m a ghost.”

He grinned. “You’re still real to me.”

“Only in my dreams,” she muttered to herself as she walked out of the attic beside him.

They took the elevator down to his office so he could turn off his lights and lock the door,
then
she followed him to the front door of the building.

“Goodnight, Nick.”

Abigail looked out into the night, where only a few streetlights lit the front of the building. Two cars passed as she and Nick stared silently out the double-glass doors. How she missed going outside! Then again, she missed a lot of things about being alive.

He turned and met her stare, his grin widening. “Come outside with me.”

“What?”

“Come on. Let’s find out how far you can go.”

Abigail wrung her hands against her stomach. “I don’t think—”

“You’ll never know until you try. I just may be your lucky charm.” Nick motioned with his head as he opened the door. “Please?”

“But what if—”

“Come on. Walk me out to my car.” He opened the door and stepped outside.

Her heart hammered and her limbs shook, but she forced herself to walk toward him. When she stepped outside and the door closed behind her, she sucked in a quick breath. The last time she’d tried this, she’d been following one of the people helping renovate the building. She’d followed him almost to the edge of the building property before the invisible force yanked her back.
So far, walking beside Nick was working out well.

He held his hand out for her to grab, then brought it back to his side. He walked in front of her as they moved slowly toward his car. Down the sidewalk a red motorcar caught Abigail’s eye.
Fancy!
Of course, he’d been a big-time lawyer not too long ago.

“Come on. You’re doing great,” he coaxed.

Her chest tightened, but this time it was more from excitement than fear. They reached his car and she smiled wide.

“Should we push fate a little more?” Nick asked.

“H—how?”

“Do you want to get in my car?”

Abigail shook her head. “Those vehicles scare me. They move much faster now than they did in my time.”

He chuckled and walked closer, stopping in front of her. His knuckles swept by her cheek again, and he leaned in and brushed his lips across her forehead. She felt the same sensation as when they were in the attic.

“Then we’ll save that outing for another day.”

“Yes, we will,” Abigail replied. “But I fear you might have to load me down with strong spirits first.”

He laughed, turned, and climbed into his car.

“Have a good evening, Nick. And thanks again for everything.”

“See you tomorrow.”

She shook her head. “Stay home and get some rest. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

As he drove away, her chest tightened again and she couldn’t breathe. This was how she felt when she’d left the building before. The invisible force was keeping her at the building. She hurried back inside to relieve the pressure in her body.

Perhaps Nick was her salvation after all. Maybe if she stayed near him, she would be able to go anywhere.

Chapter 8

Abigail spent Sunday reading the newspapers, trying in vain to find another article on Lillian Burnett. Perhaps Nick was right and this woman had been a schemer. What were the odds Lillian was indeed her maid, Lily?

Abigail searched through her memory for details about Lily’s personal life. Her maid had mentioned having a daughter, but Abigail had never met the girl. Now Abigail wished she’d asked more about Lily’s life when she was alive.

When the clock on the wall read eight
pm
, Abigail left the attic and headed to Nick’s office, but the door was closed and the lights were off. She frowned. The rest of the day would pass slowly now, making her even more anxious to see him tomorrow.

Consumed with loneliness, she turned and walked to the main floor of the building. Once again, she wondered how she’d allowed a man into her heart so quickly. Was it because Nick was the first person to talk to her—or see her—in almost a hundred years? Or was it because her grandmother had dreamed about him being in Abigail’s life, so she automatically trusted him?

 
Another memory assaulted her, and she smiled. For her eighteenth birthday, her grandmother had given her a golden heart-shaped locket. Immediately, she placed her hand on her neck to touch the necklace, only to realize she hadn’t had it since the day she died.
Strange, because she had worn it every day since her birthday.
Her grandmother had blessed the necklace before giving it to Abigail. The older woman told her that this necklace would help her find her heart’s true desire.

Chuckling, she shook her head. At that particular time in her life, her only
true desire
was to
be a normal woman…feel
like a woman, and have men court her. She also wanted her father’s attention, and she knew she would have better luck with men than her father.

She reached the double-glass doors and looked out. The sun had slipped behind the horizon. People on the streets walked, rode bicycles, or drove fast motorcars. A casual breeze wafted through the trees, tousling women’s hair as they walked by the building. Abigail grinned. As a child, she’d loved the feel of the wind blowing through her long hair and against her face. Oh, how she wanted to feel this again.

On impulse, she walked outside. She stood on the front steps of the building and closed her eyes, concentrating, wondering if she’d ever feel that sensation again. Noises from the street were all around—horns honked, engines roared, and people yelled. She blocked it out and focused on feeling the wind.

A slight breeze tickled her face, making her heartbeat quicken. She held her breath, praying for more, and soon a few strands of hair brushed against her cheek. She opened her eyes and looked down at her body. Nothing looked different, so how was it that she could feel more now?

She walked up the sidewalk, retracing the same path she and Nick had taken the night before. The closer she inched toward the street, the more her chest tightened and her breathing had become labored. An invisible force squeezed her body, trying to stop her from moving any farther.

Forcing herself to ignore the pressure, Abigail forged on, but soon the force pulled her back. How she hated this—hated being controlled and kept chained to this prison.

She ran back to the building and to the attic, then fell to the floor and sobbed. What had she done in her life to end up like this?

When her crying subsided, she relaxed and closed her eyes. Within minutes, warmth spread through her and it was as if comforting arms wrapped around her body. Nick was somewhere in the building. She could actually
feel
him. And she could feel that he was looking for her…that he wanted to see her as much as she wanted to see him—almost like she could read his mind.

Excited, she sat up, accidentally knocking her head on a nearby shelf. Pain rushed through her skull and she scowled as she rubbed the sore spot. Once the pain lessened, she was able to think clearly. Could it really be? She had indeed touched a hard object—and
felt
it!

She rushed to Nick’s office to tell him the good news. The closer she got to his office, the warmer the sensations in her body expanded. Strange to think how they were connected in such a way.

When she reached his office, the door was open and the light was on. She walked in, and he looked her way. His smile widened, and she felt like rushing into his arms and kissing him.

“I’m so happy to see you,” she said breathlessly.

“Yes, I can see that.” He cocked his head to the side. “Did you miss me?”

“Just a little.”
She grinned, casually strolling to his desk. “I’ve learned a few things in your absence, and I couldn’t wait to tell you.”

He straightened and folded his arms over his muscular chest. “Don’t keep me in suspense. What have you learned?”

Ignoring the proper manners she’d been taught as a young lady, she sat on the corner of his desk and swung her leg, something she’d seen him do many times. “The first thing I realized was that I can venture outside only when you are near.” He lifted his eyebrow, so she continued, “I tried to walk around the building earlier and I couldn’t. I wasn’t able to get as far from the building as I went last night while with you.”

“Interesting.”
Nick scratched the evening stubble on his chin.

“The next thing I noticed was that if I concentrated hard, I could feel the wind blowing through my hair and against my face.”

“Probably because you’ve had your hat on all these years and haven’t noticed.”

“Possibly,” Abigail replied with a giggle.

He sat on his desk next to her and leaned in. “What else did you learn?”

She took a deep breath. “I can feel pain.”

“You can?”

“Don’t ask me how, but just before you came to your office, I was in the attic. I stood quickly, and my head connected with the corner of a shelf.” She rubbed the small lump. “It still stings.”

His eyes widened. “Are you kidding me?”

“No.”

“I didn’t know ghosts could feel things like that.”

“I cannot understand why I’m experiencing these things when I haven’t until now.”

“Since I’ve never dealt with a ghost before, I don’t know either.” Nick stood and walked around to type something in his computer. “But wouldn’t it be funny if you were slowly becoming…real?”

Abigail held her breath, afraid to even hope that it was true. Oh, how she dreamed of having a relationship with a man, and as of late, Nick had been the one in her dreams. She longed to be held in his strong arms, but how could that ever happen? She shook her head. “It is rather far-fetched, don’t you agree?”

“Extremely.”
He sat in his swivel chair and linked his fingers over his stomach. “I got a call from Vanessa today. She arranged a time for me to meet Cassandra Brown on Tuesday.”

“That’s in two days,” Abigail exclaimed.

“Yes, it is. So now I need your help to think of questions we want to ask her.”

She nodded and sat in her usual chair. “The first one should be how she acquired the building.”

He shook his head.
“No, how she acquired the
money
to buy the building.”

“You’re right, of course. But then, wouldn’t that sound too forward? I mean we don’t know this woman. Should we be so bold with our questions?”

Nick picked up a pencil and tapped the eraser on his chin.
“Smart thinking, Abby.
Perhaps I should start out by telling her that I’ve been researching the building and discovered she owned it in 1917.”

Abigail nodded. “That’s a great beginning.”

“Then I could casually mention it surprised me to learn that such a young woman owned the building, because it was almost unheard of back in those days.”

“You’re thinking very logically. And with that question, it may lead her to reveal how she came to own it.”

“I sure hope it does.” He sighed and sat forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “I wish you could go with me.”

Abigail sighed.
“Me too.”

During the silence, she thought back to her experiment that day. She couldn’t get to the street by herself, but last night when Nick was with her, she could. Was Nick Marshal the answer to
all
her prayers? Could she leave the building permanently if he was by her side?

She jumped to her feet, her heartbeat hammering out of control. She held out her hand for Nick to take, even though she knew he couldn’t. “Let’s go outside.”

“Right now?
Why?”

“I want to try something.”

He pushed away from his desk and stood, then walked to her, a crooked smile playing on his mouth. “What do you want to try?”

“I want to see how far away from the building I can go.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” He opened the door for her. “Let’s go.”

Side by side they strolled down the stairs to the front door. When Nick opened the glass door for her, she smiled and gazed into his eyes.

“Not very many men of your time are so gentlemanly. I’ve been watching people a lot as of late, and I haven’t seen many men open doors for women.”

He shrugged. “I haven’t always been one of those men. It’s not until I met you that I’ve wanted to be chivalrous.”

She laughed.
“And that you are, Sir Nicholas, my chivalrous knight.”

They walked toward the street, just like they’d done the night before.

“Would it be insensitive of me to ask how many girlfriends you’ve had?”

He threw back his head and laughed. Then he looked at her and said in a serious tone, “It would be very inconsiderate to ask that question, Abby.”

From the twinkle in his eyes, she knew he was teasing her and wasn’t serious at all. Then he pushed his elbow into her arm, and warmth touched the spot. When he stopped and looked at the place their bodies had connected, his forehead creased and his gaze narrowed.

“Is something amiss?” Abigail asked.

“Yes. It felt different that time.”

She gasped. “It did?
How?”

“Instead of the cool mist I’m used to feeling, it was like my elbow bumped into a…well, a bubble.”

“A bubble?”

His curious eyes met hers. “Yes, a bubble.
Kind of bouncy and rubbery in a way, yet soft.”

He reached his fingers slowly toward her arm. She held her breath, hoping he’d connect with something solid.

* * * *

Nick concentrated on touching her arm, and when his fingers made contact, the soft bubbly rubber sensation was there again. This couldn’t be happening. Once she was dead, there was no coming back—especially since she’d been dead for over ninety years. Unless, he really was crazy and he was losing is mind fast. If that were the case, he’d happily go to the psycho ward and be locked in a padded room, as long as Abby could be with him.

“Do you feel it?” she whispered.

“Yes, in a way. I mean, I feel something, but it doesn’t feel like your arm, or like the material on your dress.”

He moved his hand up her arm toward her neck and felt the same strange sensation. Just then, a man on a bicycle rode by, staring at Nick with arched eyebrows and a smirk. Nick dropped his hand; he’d forgotten nobody else could see Abby.

He chuckled. “Let’s not do this out here. I’m getting weird looks.”

She bit her bottom lip and nodded.

As he stepped toward the road again, he pieced everything together in his mind. It seemed the more time he spent with her, the more alive she became. What if she turned into an actual body—real flesh and bones? What if he could touch her, hold her, and even kiss her? His heart raced. It would go against his own rules, because Abby was technically his client. Up until now, he literally couldn’t touch her. But what if he could?

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice where he was walking until he heard Abby gasp.

“Nick!”

He stopped and swung around to face her. Her green eyes were wide, and her fist covered her mouth. They had crossed the street and stood in front of a gas station. And she was still with him.

“Do you know what this means?” she asked, letting her hand drop to her side.

“I think so.” He swallowed hard. “You can leave the building as long as you’re with me?”

“Yes.” A smile slowly stretched across her face. “I am free.” Her giddy laughter made Nick grin. “Well, free from the building, anyway.” She rushed to his side and took his hand. “Oh, Nick, take me somewhere—anywhere. Please?”

Nick felt the soft sensation of her hand around his. “All right, but we’ll have to go in my car.”

Abby glanced over her shoulder toward his parked sports car. “Well, if I must.” She met his eyes again. “Just don’t go fast.”

“If I do, you’ll have to hold on tight to me.”

Her smile softened. “That sounds like heaven.”