Abigail Taylor POV ~
I can't help but laugh at the bewildered look on Jake's face when I thank him. His adorable smile soon graces his handsome face as he realizes I'm joking, and he tugs his jeans and boxers back up. He tugs out the hair tie holding his shoulder length hair back, letting it fall down around his face. I impulsively reach up and tuck it behind his ear, and he leans his face into my hand slightly as I cup his cheek.
An aggressive banging on the bathroom door makes both of us jump, and Jake pulls open the lock. He smirks at the irate guy jiggling on the spot outside, and links his hand with mine, pulling me back out to the bar.
I squeeze his hand slightly, and point to where the guys from the band are congregated, and he nods once, pulling me closer to press a knee weakening kiss to my lips.
I watch him saunter back to George and AJ, his hands thrust deep in his pockets.
"I thought I told you no playing with your toys in my bathrooms." Amusement laces Derrick's voice.
"Sorry. I just couldn't wait 'til I got home to unwrap it." I flash him a devious grin.
Working with Jake was proving much more fun now we were fucking. I was finding new and exciting ways to tease him, relishing in the heated looks and wandering hands my torture evoked.
Mr McGee had come in to bring the books ready for the end of month accounts to be done, and had caught us in middle of such a flirtation; Jake's fingers deep inside of me after I'd spent all afternoon teasing him with my shortest, tightest hot pants and tight crop top, ending in a growl from him as he pushed me up against the display of death metal records I'd been arranging, after purposely perking my ass in his direction.
"I see the two of you are getting on much better." Mr McGee raises a grey eyebrow at me over the top of the reading glasses which he has perched on the end of his nose. I smile, and nod. He hides a smile behind his hand as he rubs his nose. "Well that's good. So anyway, these are the accounting books. As manager I am now passing the full responsibility of of the finances on to you. To be honest," he chuckles sardonically, "it's always kicked my butt."
"Well I happen to live with an accounting major so I'll ask her to have a look with me, help me get my head round it."
Jake carried home the heavy pile of books much to my amusement, and I can't help but imagine him carrying my books from class to class in high school. God, it seems like a lifetime ago that I was at school.
George and AJ spring apart quickly, guilty looks on their faces, when we walk through the door.
"Dudes! No fucking of the sofa!" Jake laughs as AJ flips him off and George blushes bright red. She scrambles off the sofa trying to straighten her clothes and hit Jake at the same time. He dodges out of her reach with a laugh, vaulting over the back of the couch and landing next to a bellowing AJ.
George rolls her eyes at me, a good natured smile on her face.
"You up for some sexy accounting books?" I waggle my eyebrows suggestively and she giggles.
A long-ass hour later she is frowning at the columns of figures, a pencil tapping agitatedly against the back of her head.
"What is it?"
"There are weird payments going out to a loans company. Or companies I should really say." She opens up another of the leather bound books and flicks through the yellowing pages. "Your boss really should have moved all this shit onto a computer, y'know."
"Yeah, he's kinda old school like that."
"Um...." George shuffles through some loose leaves of paper which were shoved inside the accounting books. "How come you never said how involved you were in the shop?"
"What do you mean?" I sit forward in my seat to try and look at the paper in her hand. "My ex technically owns the shop so I was around when he started it, but I wouldn't say I was that involved."
"Well, you took out all these loans, right? From the looks of it you're the sole reason the shop even has any finance."
"What fucking loans?!" I snatch the paper from her hand and read down it.
Sure enough all my details had been filled in. Full name, address at the time, date of birth, even my fucking social security number. All correct except for my signature, which was the shitty copy of it which I'd seen Dominick do in the past.
"You knew, didn't you! You fucking knew and you didn't fucking tell me?!" I pace back and forth on the threadbare carpet in Mr McGee's bungalow, the evidence of my ex-fiancé's shitty exploits shaking in my hand.
"Abigail," his use of my full christian name makes me stop short, "I promise I didn't know until the bailiffs showed up at the shop one day looking for you long after he'd run away to India." He slowly pushes himself up out of his recliner and shuffles over to take the screaming kettle off the heat.
"Why didn't you just tell me?" I slump down onto the couch.
"He broke you. My deadbeat son had already broken you so much, I couldn't shatter you beyond repair by letting you know how badly he'd betrayed you." He turns to me with an apologetic look in his eye. "I'd always hoped I could clear the debt without you finding out."
His eyes wander round the decrepit bungalow he'd moved to a few years back. I look round too, realization hitting me as I really take note of the cracked walls and peeling wallpaper.
"You sold your house to try and pay them back?" I ask incredulously. The old man's eyes water as he puts down the pot of tea on the coffee table, and he nods sadly.
"It wasn't enough. Dominick chose some cowboy company to borrow money off. The interest rate is criminally high. But I'm afraid there's more," he shuffles to his messy ottoman and extracts a wad of paper, handing it to me, "I'm afraid he has been financing his little excursion on your penny too."
I flick through the papers. They are from a couple of different credit card companies, all of which are made out to my name. The room starts to spin as I scan the amounts which are owed on each account.
"I've been trying to at least make the minimum payments on all of them each month, but again the interest rates are so high it doesn't really make a difference."
"How could...how could he do this to me?" My voice is barely above a whisper. The loans and the credit cards would have had to of been applied for while we were still together, while we were planning our wedding. "The wedding! All that money I gave him for the wedding..."
"He spent it on the shop, on himself." Mr McGee clasps my hand, steadying the shaking a little.
"I have to...I need to go."