So who is reading Fate by Angkeats? It's highly addictive to read lol.
Also good is Crashing Down by Bluebell140 :)
Thank you for your reviews – love it when you tell me what you liked about a chapter! Enjoy chapter thirteen...
Back to the bus stop today.
And it had to be the day that I can't find my phone...And I mean I've looked everywhere. I'm sure of it.
I have to leave in ten minutes. God, I really must get organised...it's the same every week – another lost item.
Where the he...oh.
It's ringing now...obviously I forgot to look somewhere after all. But where oh where is that coming from? I don't have time to play hunt the ringtone here.
It's getting louder...aha! Here it is. I'll ask myself why it's on my shoe rack later on...
"Hello?"
"Gabi? You okay? I didn't want to interrupt anything, but I thought I'd risk it today because it's important..."
"I'm fine, Troy – haven't even got to work yet, I was held up searching high and low for the phone," I tell him. I wonder what's so important that he's ringing me while at the office?
Even though this is clearly a serious phone call, Troy lets out a chuckle. "At least it wasn't your keys this time. Anyway, I've got some news. It's about Tim Morris."
I've left the flat now, and have to force myself to keep walking to the bus stop, rather than stop still in total shock. I'd almost completely forgotten about Mr Vile.
"What is it?"
"I just overheard him talking, and he...well, I don't have enough time to tell you exactly what he said, but he certainly didn't make himself look good. And I'm not just referring to the way he treats his wife."
I knew it. I knew it!
"Oh my God, Troy...what's he up to?"
"Oh, I know what he's after, Gabi. I just haven't worked out how he's going to get it yet. I will, though."
He cares so much, it puts a stop to all my worries about what could happen to my dad's business. For now, anyway.
"Thank you," I say, then spot the bus coming down the road. "I have to go. Talk to you later?"
"Of course; I'll pick you up from work. Have a good day."
We hang up; I get on the bus, and then try to make myself focus on the day ahead. Clients and their hair – that's it.
.HSM.
It's impossible not to think about all the other stuff. Especially in between appointments.
Thankfully I only have an hour or so left before the end of the day. The phone rang earlier and I was convinced it was going to be my mother. It wasn't; but when I do speak to her I won't be able to stop myself from giving her a piece of my mind.
She's given out my number. Or rather, the salon's number. I picked up the phone earlier, only to hear Sophie Morris' voice on the other end. Vile Tim's wife.
She wants to meet up for coffee. To chat with me. Despite the random offer, I would probably have taken her up on it quite easily under normal circumstances. She seems like a genuine, kind woman.
But her husband is a rat. And I know it. How can I look her in the eye? The poor woman...
I couldn't say no to her, though. From her point of view, I had no reason to refuse. So after standing there on pause for a minute, I told Sophie I'd love to meet up.
I'm meeting her for lunch tomorrow.
Oh God.
She wants to be my friend. Little does she know that her husband tried to chat me up. And is apparently capable of being even more devious than that...
I think I need a drink. Is it time to go home yet?
.HSM.
"Here," says Troy, handing me a glass of white wine as we sit down in his flat.
I honestly don't mean to down the drink so quickly, but within two minutes that's exactly what I've done. "Thanks," I reply as I spot him watching me curiously.
"You okay?" he asks, taking the glass back from me.
"Just a bit stressed," I admit with a sigh. "Tim's wife phoned me up today, and now we're having lunch together tomorrow."
There's silence for a moment as Troy takes this in.
"How did that happen?"
"Mum gave her the number of the salon. And I couldn't just turn her down, so who knows how I'll get through that knowing what I know. Speaking of which, what happened at work?"
He grimaces, obviously going over it all in his head. "I heard him talking on the phone, and he said it shouldn't be long before he takes over your father's company."
The arrogant, conniving...
"Arsehole!" I exclaim out loud.
"My thoughts exactly..." Troy replies. "It also sounded like he was talking to a mistress at the time."
"That doesn't surprise me...how could you tell?"
He looks twice as anxious all of a sudden, his eyes downcast.
"Troy?"
"He kept saying 'babe' every two minutes," he tells me, rolling his eyes. "And he was badmouthing his wife something rotten. It was...rather disgusting to listen to. And even worse considering she's pregnant."
"What did he say?" Something tells me that whatever it is, it's going to bother me. But I'm far too curious not to ask.
"Gabi...I'm not even comfortable repeating it myself," he replies. And to be fair, he does look quite disturbed by whatever words he is silently recalling.
"Alright, you don't have to tell me exactly what he said, but...just how was Tim badmouthing Sophie?"
I feel like I can already guess the basics, but I need Troy to confirm it for me. It's strange how all of a sudden, I really care about what happens to poor Sophie.
"He was saying things about her looks," he finally explains. "He said several things, like that she'd 'let herself go'."
It hits me as if it's Matt all over again. They were the very same words he said to me, after all. And my face must have betrayed my thoughts, because now Troy is beside me, his hands laced through mine.
"I'm sorry. That's why I didn't want to tell you," he says softly. "Are you alright?"
"It's not your fault," I manage, and we share a small smile as we remember the last time I said that to him – after I'd first told him about Matt. "It's just that...that's what Matt said to me."
For half a second, I wonder what horrible things Matt must have said when he came into the pub the other night.
And then all at once, it doesn't matter to me anymore as Troy pulls me into his arms, kissing me on the forehead.
I don't want to know what nasty things that man came out with. And I don't need to know, either.
What I do need (besides Troy) is to find out what Tim Morris is going to do to fleece my Dad, and get his own way.
"What are we going to do?" I ask, turning in his arms to face him.
"Well," Troy ponders for a minute. "I'd like to be able to search his office for some sort of evidence, but I'll probably get caught before I can find anything. We need to be able to show your Dad something concrete."
In other words, we need someone nosey. Someone willing to break a few rules...
Someone like Sharpay.
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