Written With Hearts

Written With Hearts - Chapter Three

Abby....

Check you out, hot stuff!" KC licks her finger, making a sizzling sound when she pokes my arm.

I laugh, flicking my long ponytail away from the left side of my neck. "Are you ready, Missus?" I say, checking that I have everything that we need before going down to the bar. "Do you have the other key card?" I ask, looking down at mine nestled against the fabric of my clutch bag.

"I certainly do," KC replies, quickly checking her reflection before ushering me out of the door.

We are chatting while we walk, taking in the beautiful furnishings of Green Acres as we pass them. Ornate tables stand at opposite ends of the long hallway, and the sash windows are beautifully decorated with thick velvet curtains in the palest of gold. "This place is so posh," KC says, admiring the décor.

"It's a lovely venue, isn't it?" I smile, feeling happy that I'm here.

When we press the lift button, we patiently wait for it to open. It doesn't take long before we hear the ping, as the lift door slides across. When I lift my happy eyes, I'm faced with Yate and one of his friends. "Hello again, Stranger," he cheekily greets me.

With a nervous, quick breath, I throw him a small smile. "Hello again," I rapidly reply, feeling like the lift walls are closing in on me. It doesn't help when my best friend is giving me 'the look' . . . the who-is-that, look! I warn her to pack it in with my squinting, scowling eyes.

"Are you going down?" Yate asks, with his finger hovering just over the ground floor button.

KC instantly taps my side, crudely smirking at me as I nod my yes to Yate. I forgot to mention that my best friend has a mind that often swims in sewers. I choose to ignore her, knowing that Yate's innocent question, are you going down; already has her swimming around in that very filthy place.

Thankfully, the silence is broken by Yate's friend. "Are you ladies both here for the book signing then?" he asks with a friendly smile.

I nod, coyly glancing across at Yate before answering. "Yes, I'm a tad nervous though," I freely admit with a gentle shrug of my shoulders.

"You're a signing author?" he asks, his smile wider.

I nod again, feeling really proud to admit that I am. "I sure am!" I answer, sounding much more confident this time.

Just as he smiles, the doors open with a loud ping. "See you later then, ladies." Bypassing KC and me, he steps out of the lift, but Yate kindly waits for us to step out first.

In a light, bubbly voice, I thank him. "Thank you." I broadly smile in his direction.

With his bright, brown eyes fixed on me; he mirrors my smile. "Catch you later," he says, almost needing to peel his eyes away from me as he strides around the corner of the lifts.

Holding on to the way he has just looked at me, kind of turns me into a whimsical mush. Get a grip, Abby! You mustn't turn to mush . . . ever! With a silent scolding, I lift my chin, thinking that a voddy might help.

KC needs to catch up with my determined steps. "Who was that in the lift?" she whispers loudly, so very shit with her whispering skills.

"He's called Yate Sheridan, he's a cover model," I state matter-of-factly.

"Do I detect a little frisson between the two of you?" Her brows rise high with a teasing puckering of her cherry plum lips, and is using the most awful French accent.

My brows draw in closer, as I press my lips tightly together before considering how to answer. "Hardly! One, I've only just met him . . . Two, he's a cover model," I reply, serious about my reasons of why a frisson is highly unlikely.