PET SHOP OF HORRORS
FRIEND
Chapter Three - Inescapable Pretenses
"Good morning, Leila..."
The fifty-year-old administrative assistant peeled her eyes away from the computer monitor and glanced sideways in pleased disbelief at the handsome owner of that amicable voice. Once she confirmed that she was not daydreaming, her customarily stern demeanor melted into a beaming smile as she rose from her seat. "M - Mister Horryce... It's so good to see you!"
Moving away some unruly ash brown bangs from his eyes as he removed his sunglasses, Miles Horryce's face flushed with embarrassment as a coy smile escaped his lips. Seeing his normally well-dressed administrative assistant made him feel more comfortable as he returned from a month's worth of physical absence from his law firm's San Francisco office. "Leila...we've worked together for many years. You make it sound as if I'm a stodgy old man."
This time, it was Leila's turn to blush...prompting her to sheepishly remark, "I'm sorry. It's been a while, especially since you've worked from home for months."
An amused Miles Horryce chuckled and shook his head. Even his fellow partners did not have the amicable rapport that he and Leila shared...and as much as Leila had forgotten that he was more comfortable being called by his first name when clients were not present, he had also forgotten how motherly his secretary had always been for him and Abigail. His honey-colored eyes radiated the warm grin on his face, as he said while handing the elder woman one of the two wicker baskets wrapped in festive cellophane paper, "By the way, this is for you. Consider it a long-overdue present from me..."
The stunned woman stared at him when she accepted the basket. Her eyes went wide as she spotted the contents inside the basket. Sitting down once more and keeping her focus on the present sitting in her lap, she mumbled, "When did you ever find time to bake bread? Moreover, when did you learn how to bake?"
"You don't like it? Isn't this your favorite?" asked the young attorney after he blinked a couple of times.
Leila's eyes slightly watered. "I like it. It's cinnamon raisin loaf...looking and smelling like the very thing that she used to make for me." Although she kept her downward gaze, her boss sensed the sadness that was reflected in her tone when she said, "I'm sorry...it's just that I miss her a lot. She wasn't well for many months, and then now she's..."
Walking behind the large cubicle, standing beside his trusted secretary, and resting a consoling hand on her back, Miles closed his eyes and sighed...not knowing what to tell Leila, but knowing well that he could not tell her the truth.
"Are you going to be okay, Miles?"
He responded with a heavy heart and pursed lips, "It won't be easy, but I have to be okay. We have to make the best of everything and move on, for Abigail's sake..."
After a nod and a slight smile, she told him with a voice reflective of more hope, "You're right..."
"I'll go ahead and start my day. Is everything ready for my meeting with the partners?"
Sifting through Miles Horryce's schedule, Leila scanned the entries written for today before she declared, "All the paperwork's ready. You also have a nine o'clock meeting with a potential client, and a lunch appointment with a Count D. In between those commitments, you're free to catch up on other matters. I know how much you like days such as today."
Miles slipped his right hand in his black trench coat pocket when he interjected,"What's Ty's word regarding the Milvern matter?"
"He said that he'll call you by noon today."
Once he gave his secretary a satisfied nod and his mind began to run into its customary clockwork, Miles fell silent for many minutes before he let out a resigned sigh and told Leila while gesturing at his gift, "If it's any consolation to you, the bread tastes almost the same as Abigail used to make it for us. I hope that you'd enjoy it, just as much as I'd enjoy today's spurts of silence while they last."
While drumming her pen on the legal pad, Leila inquired, "Should I hold all your calls, or just certain ones?"
"Unless it has something to do with the partners, Ty, or today's appointments, hold my calls."
Before Miles slipped inside his office, he heard Leila say after a few minutes of silence between them with a sly grin, "Thanks for the bread, Miles. It smells wonderful. I'm sure that I'll like it...or at least I'll try knowing that you've made a mess in that usually spotless kitchen for my sake."
"You're so devious. I'm not that bad of a cook," kidded Miles to Leila with another hearty chuckle.
The secretary's eyes lit up with amusement as she said, "We'll wait and see, young man. We'll wait and see."
The young attorney closed the door, as he looked outwardly collected but inwardly torn apart. After all, he just lied to Leila...someone who he and Abigail treated and trusted as a parent.
To him, the Chinese fox was Abigail returned to him from the dead...and much more. How could he possibly tell the woman who had been a confidante and a parent to them that he bought a fox from an exotic pet shop that looked just like Abigail? How could he tell anyone that the Chinese fox, who he called Abigail since she came into his life, baked three loaves of cinnamon raisin bread...just as the real Abigail normally would do for them and special friends during her more lucid days?
As far as he was concerned, the Chinese fox and Abigail have been one and the same...
The smile on Miles' face lingered as he sighed and placed the second cellophane-wrapped wicker basket on his desk...pondering as to how lucky he was that fate gave him a second chance with Abigail. Once he sat behind his mahogany desk and stared at the closed door, he mused as if he was having a mental conversation with Abigail, "I have to hide you from the world, even from those who love us so that I can keep you and us a reality. I've lost you once, and I won't lose you ever again."
The intercom buzz jarred him from his thoughts, followed by Leila's voice informing him, "Thomas Curtis is on line one for you. He says it's urgent."
"Thanks. Patch him through," replied Miles via the speakerphone. After two rings, he pressed another button, picked up the receiver, and asked Thomas Curtis,"Okay, Ty... What do you have for me about the Milvern case?"
"I'm not calling about Milvern, but something more important. I want the truth from you."
Silently taken aback from his friend's evasive uneasiness, Miles muttered, "S - Sure... What's up?"
After a pause of hesitation, Curtis inquired, "Did you kill Abigail?"
The normally calm Miles Horryce deadpanned, "Today's not a good day to pull practical jokes, Ty. I'm too busy..."
"You heard what I've just asked you. It's not a joke."
As the blood pounded behind his eyes and ears, Miles' eyes narrowed in rage as he spat, "Why in hell are you asking such a stupid question? You know the answer to that."
"Just answer my question, Miles. Did you kill Abigail?"
Angry but trying his best to keep his last ounce of patience, Miles explained in a constrained voice, "I love Abigail, Ty. You've been around us since we were dating. Hell, you were one of my groomsmen for our wedding. After knowing me all these years, would I be the type of person who'd kill my wife?"
Clearing his throat, Curtis remarked, "I don't know anymore, Miles. I don't want to believe it, but I can't deny what I've just uncovered."
Swiveling his chair so that he now stared at the abstract painting that hung behind his desk, the attorney commented, "If you think that I'm a wife-killing psychopath, why don't you just recant your earlier report and submit this new one that has this eye-opening revelation?"
Although Curtis' voice rasped into a whisper from the other end of the line, his exasperation was evident as he told his friend. "Shit, Miles...our asses are on the line here! I don't want to lose my job as chief coroner, and I bet that you don't want to go to jail!"
"I never did anything to hurt anyone, nor did I do anything to hide the truth! I didn't kill my wife! What type of cruel and sick joke are you playing on me?"
After dead silence, Curtis regained a semblance of composure as he told his friend, "This is no joke, Miles.I want to make sense of what I have you have free time today?"
"Stop by at eleven o' clock and bring everything you have to show me."
"I'll see you then..." confirmed Curtis, followed by the disconnecting sound coming from the other line.
Hanging up the receiver, Miles resumed his transfixed gaze at the painting behind him...steepling his fingers and delving deep in thought as to how the face-to-face conversation between him and Curtis would transpire, as well as what prompted his long-time friend to dig more clues about Abigail's death.
End Chapter Three
Author's Note
Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Pet Shop of Horrors does not belong to me, but this fanfic (along with Miles Horryce and Abigail the Chinese fox) does.