Page 69 of Fake for 7 days

No.

I would make one more attempt to talk to her reasonably.

"Look, Abigail, we had a good time. But it was limited. We weren't meant for each other, at least not for eternity. Instead of arguing now about who was right back then and who wasn't, we should draw a line under it. Emotionally too. That way we can remember the good things and... well, life goes on." I raised my hands and shrugged.

"That's easy for you to say. You were probably in bed with a different woman every night. You didn't care how I was doing." The last sentence was true. Why should I have cared about how Abigail was doing? That was the point of a breakup. From now on, everyone only looked after themselves.

Abigail pulled out a third tissue, blew her nose, and stuffed it back into her pocket. That must be a real germ factory. The thought made me grimace.

"I can see it. You don't want me anymore." She looked at me defiantly.

"That's right," I replied tersely. Now was not the time to let sentimentality creep in or be nice. Abigail had finally grasped the situation for the first time in this conversation.

"You'll regret this," Abigail hissed now. "Dad has influence. A lot of influence. He knows many people. More than you think." Abigail's blue eyes still looked pale and expressionless. "I'll tell him to make sure you don't get a single job again. Not with him. Not with the competition. With no one."

"That doesn't scare me," I replied laconically.

"Dad meets a lot of people for dinner. And he'll tell everyone what you did to me. Everyone."

I shrugged. "Some might fall for your lies. Others won't."

"Your company will go bankrupt!"

"I have more than enough money." That was true, but at the prospect of Abigail being able to hinder my future professional success so significantly, I clenched my teeth. My jaw bones creaked. The vein at my temple throbbed unpleasantly. I had more than enough money, but I didn't want to be seen as a loser. As someone whose company had gone down the drain.

"You'll see!" Abigail was slowly running out of threats.

And I was running out of patience.

"I've really listened to your crap long enough, Abigail! Get out of here!" With these words, I walked around my desk, opened the door, and stood next to it with my arms crossed.

"Hurry up!"

"You'll regret this," Abigail hissed as she rushed past me.

And stopped.

I turned around.

In the doorway, Abigail and Isabella stood face to face.

Chapter 19 ~ Isabella ~

Asagreed,Istoodin front of Carter's office.

On time.

More than that!

I, Isabella Abbott, the perpetual latecomer, the scatterbrain, was even five minutes early! What might be natural for others was a reason for me to be proud, so I smiled contentedly to myself. So I could be punctual. To hell with Emmett Kershaw, who had written me off as a hopeless case.

"Hello," I greeted the unobtrusive assistant who was sitting behind a desk in Carter's anteroom. I was unsure how I should behave. Did I have an appointment with Carter? Did I need to check in?

As I hesitated, the doorknob of Carter's office door turned. Ah, the previous appointment was over. So I wasn't too early, but just right. Radiant with joy, I hurried over to Carter.

Out of the office stepped a medium-sized woman with an unremarkable hair color and pale blue eyes. Was she one of Carter's colleagues? She looked capable, though more in the way you'd expect from someone in an office or a court.

Pale eyes fixed on me.

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