Page 47 of Affinity

“You look beautiful to me, but I’ll wait if you want to fix yourself up a little.”

I skipped down the length of the trailer with my purse in tow, and a smile stretched across my face. It was strange how one minute I could be fuming jealous, and the next, I was on cloud nine with this man.

I knew then that life with Reeves Jenner would never be boring, and he’d always keep me on my toes.

Chapter Eighteen

Jenner

The last time I was on a date felt like . . . never. Poppy hadn’t liked to go out to dinner, but she liked to hit the clubs and parties on my arm. At first, I didn’t realize it, and by the time I did, I was in too deep. I was young and dumb and totally let her take advantage of me.

Now, here I was, married because of another bad mistake, but thinking it might have been the best mistake I’d ever made. Abbi didn’t want the attention of the paparazzi, and I was racking my brain trying to figure out a place that was both private and would show her I wanted us to work.

I wasn’t sure if such a place existed, but I was going to try and take her to the perfect place. One thing I knew was that we needed to head out of town and away from the vast majority of the cameras that followed me around daily.

“Where are we going?” Abbi asked from the passenger seat. Her voice was laced with uncertainty.

I peeked at her from the corner of my eye. “Out of town. I thought it would be nice if there wasn’t a swarm of paps trailing behind, and around Malibu, there are quite a few amazing seafood restaurants. You do like seafood, don’t you?”

“Seafood?” Her voice sounded funny, making me look over at her. Her eyes were wide with her hand covering her mouth in a look that could only be described as horror, but that couldn’t be right.

“Do you not like seafood?” I was going to be sorely disappointed if she didn’t. Seafood was one of my favorite foods.

“Liking it isn’t a problem. It’s that I’ll die if I eat it.” She chewed on her bottom lip, but I swore I saw her fighting a smile.

I wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not. Either Abbi was a skilled liar, or she was allergic to seafood. After our talk, I didn’t think she’d lie to me, though.

I could feel the tension in my brow as my forehead scrunched up. “You’re allergic to seafood?”

Before she could answer what could only be classified as a giggle slipped free from her mouth, and Abbi doubled over in laughter a second later with her chest to her legs.

“Oh my God, the look on your face when you thought I . . . couldn’t . . . ” After that, I couldn’t understand a single word she tried to utter as she cracked up. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and slipping off her chin and running down her leg, she was laughing so hard.

Damn, Abbi was good. She really had me going there for a minute.

To the left, I noticed a beachside restaurant, Shrimp by the Sea, with very little traffic. It probably helped that it was now three in the afternoon, and they were in between lunch and dinner service. Pulling in, I parked the car before I turned to look at the woman beside me.

“You might want to wipe those tears from your face because we’re here, and I don’t want everyone thinking it was me who made you cry.”

If word got out that Abbi was seen crying and that I was fired on that day, God only knew what the world would think. It wouldn’t be good for sure. I dreaded calling Catherine once I got home to break the news to her.

Abbi sat up, stiff as a rod, pulling the sun visor down to take herself in. She swiped underneath her eyes and brushed away the wetness on her cheeks for only a second.

“At least my eyes aren’t all red and puffy, but I have to say it was all worth it because the look on your face when you thought you’d have to find a new place for us to eat was priceless.” Flipping the visor back up, she secured her ponytail and smiled over at me. “Ready,” she sing-songed.

If Abbi would have been any other woman in LA, she would have redone her makeup and applied a slick layer of lipstick on her plush pink lips. But not my Abbi. She was beautiful with or without, and I loved the fact she didn’t feel the need to conform to society.

When her hand went to the door handle, I placed my hand on her other arm. “Wait. Let me go around and get the door for you.”

Before she could answer or protest, I was out of my SUV and opening her door with my hand held out to help guide her out of the car.

With her hand in mine, Abbi smiled up at me. “I like the gentlemen side of you.”

“Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll get to see another side of me.” I winked at her. Intertwining our fingers, I escorted us into a quaint little restaurant with the entire backside opened to the ocean and beach. The tables were whitewashed with dark green plastic chairs around them.

A tall, blonde hostess met us with a Botoxed fake smile. “How can I help you?”

“We’d like a table for two outside by the water. If you can make it as private as possible, that would be great.”

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