Chapter 73
Greg didn''t seem to have noticed how stiff Abigail had be. After toweling her hair, he asked,
"Where''s the hairdryer?"
"Oh, it''s in the bathroom. I''ll get it myself," Abigail muttered as she snapped out of her reverie.
He had taken her by surprise earlier when he toweled her hair. She had always dried her own hair
without the help of others, but that aside, the intimacy of the moment earlier did not seem to fit into the
dynamics between her and Greg.
She retrieved the hairdryer from the bathroom, but she did not turn it on immediately after she walked
out. Instead, she eyed Greg curiously as she asked, "So what was it about Emma that you wanted to
talk about? I didn''t know you had so much time on your hands to butt into someone else''s business, Mr.
Buckley."
"We''ll talk about her after you blow-dry your hair. I don''t want you catching a cold." With that, Greg
grabbed the hairdryer and began to help her dry her damp locks.
She tried to stop him, but all she got in return was a nonchnt warning. "Don''t move, or you''ll suffer
when your hair gets tangled up in the hairdryer."
Upon hearing this, Abigail stopped moving immediately. She had long hair, and if it really did get
tangled up in the des of the hairdryer, then the consequences could be drastic for her. However, that
didn''t distract her from how close she and Greg were in proximity, which was enough to make her
uneasy.
Before her hair was fully dry, she seized the opportunity to gather her hair into a bundle and scurry
away from him, saying, "That''s enough."
"Your hair isn''t even dry!"
"Did youe here during work hours just to blow-dry my hair for me? How very altruistic of you, Mr.
Buckley!" she pointed out sarcastically.
Greg bristled at this. He couldn''t exin why he offered to blow-dry her hair, but he did know that he
didn''t like seeing her hair dripping wet. Not even Genevieve had had such a privilege, and yet here was
Abigail, who seemed to take offense at his gesture.
He had too much pride to cajole her, and he was never one to bend to others'' will. A grim look passed
over his face when he saw how indifferent and arrogant she was. He tossed the hairdryer aside and
said curtly, "Jonathan is my nephew; surely it isn''t wrong for me to intervene on behalf of his girlfriend."
The answer got on Abigail''s nerves more than she would care to admit. "Really? Well, aren''t you a
saint, Mr. Buckley? But how are you so sure that I''d be willing to settle this out of court?"
Greg knew of the strife that existed between Abigail and the rest of the Kains. In truth, if he weren''t so
desperate to marry Jonathan off and get him out of his way, he couldn''t care less about what happened
to the Kains. That said, Abigail''s sharp tone still annoyed him.
"There''s no point in letting this thing blow up. Even if you managed to get Emma thrown into prison,
what good will that do for you? Sasha and Philip aren''t just going to let you get away with it."
"And you think I''m afraid of them?" Abigail snorted impassively.
Greg found this fearless and arrogant side of her inexplicably attractive. I must be going crazy!
He averted his gaze and pointed out unaffectedly, "I''m not saying that you are afraid of them, but that
you shouldn''t have to break a sweat over a situation like this. Jonathan will only keep pestering you,
and Emma wouldn''t give up without a fight. You''d have your hands full trying to get them off your back,
so you might as well sit back and let them rip each other''s throat out."
Abigail blinked at him as she tried to wrap her head around his argument. "Why would Emma and
Jonathan turn on each other?"
"You don''t actually think Emma is in love with Jonathan, do you? The both of them are only in it for their
own interests, and once their interests are in conflict, do you sincerely believe she would stick by him
no matter what?"
Something in Abigail''s mind clicked when she heard his boration. "Didn''t you just say you only
intervened for your nephew''s sake?" There was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes as she asked
this.
Greg suddenly grew uneasy. "Technically, that wasn''t a lie. I''m here to negotiate for an out-of-court
settlement with you so that the boy can go on his merry way and get hitched."
"Hah!" She couldn''t help letting out a cold bark ofughter.
He had made it clear that he only wanted Emma to be released so that he could use her as a pawn
against Jonathan, but Abigail had nothing to do with his ns. In fact, she wouldn''t gain anything out of
it. Emma would not face retribution for what she had done to her, and this didn''t seem fair at all.
"I can''t do the surgery for Eric. As you know, I''m injured, and Allie is still in a delicate condition. Since
Emma was the one who scheduled that surgery, let her do it. I don''t care about the money, but I won''t
tolerate her ruining my reputation," she said in clipped tones.
Greg said somberly, "Let Jonathan and Emma sort this out for themselves, and you''ll be spared from
the messy aftermath, not to mention preserve your reputation. I told the police to release Emma only
after she publicly apologized to you, and when she does, everyone will know her true nature. Do you
think she would be able to marry into any other elite family after that? She would have no choice but to
stick to Jonathan and force him into marrying her."
"Jonathan would have married her by now if he truly had such intentions instead of dragging out the
engagement for five years." That much Abigail was sure of; from the looks of it, Jonathan didn''t love
Emma enough to want to marry her.
Greg eyed her thoughtfully for a while before he pointed out sourly. "You seem to know Jonathan pretty
well."
She looked up and met his gaze, though she made no reply to that remark.
He shrugged and said breezily, "He''ll marry her."
"Huh?" Abigail found his confidence puzzling. He was so sure of this notion that she started to wonder
if he was up to something.
However, Greg didn''t bother borating on this as he turned to nce at the time. It was nearly noon.
"You hungry? I''ll whip up some food for you." He didn''t wait for her to respond before taking off his
jacket and rolling up his sleeves.
She gaped at him, then quickly said, "No, it''s fine. I can make my own food."
"You''re hurt, and you only got hurt because of me. It would be unconscionable of me to allow you to
make your own food, don''t you think?"
"You''re hurt too! How''s the injury on your back?"
He stiffened at this. After thinking about it for a moment, he shed her a roguish smile and jokingly
replied, "I''d like to think of the injury as a badge of honor. Kind of manly, right?" However, all the humor
went out of him when he opened the fridge and saw that there was nothing inside. He frowned and
asked dryly, "Are you on a diet or something?"
She appeared to be unfazed by theck of groceries. "I''ll order takeoutter, so don''t trouble yourself,
Mr. Buckley."
She had been distant and somewhat hostile ever since she had a meal at his ce, and Greg couldn''t
help asking, "What''s up with you? Do you have a problem with me?"
"Nope," Abigail replied inly. "Your n is swell and all, Greg, but honestly, I couldn''t care less if
Jonathan and Emma got married or not. I have my own ways of dealing with this, and I hope you''d
understand."
She was implying that she did not agree with his very borate scheme.
Greg''s face darkened immediately as he demanded, "What does that mean? Do you have residual
feelings for Jonathan or something? Or was he telling the truth when he said you two are still a going
concern?"
She found his behavior a little bewildering. "Okay, what are we talking about here?"
"Jonathan came by my ce today and told my mom that you''re his girlfriend. He also told her that he
wanted to bring you over to meet her in person, because he apparently ns on marrying you. Is that
something you''d be interested in?" Greg didn''t notice at all how angry he sounded when he said this,
like he was ying the role of a jealous husband.
Needless to say, Abigail was a little stunned to hear this. Jonathan went to see Old Madam Buckley
this morning and spun her an absurd story like that?Owned by N?velDrama.Org.
She thought about how her kids were still over at Greg''s ce. She didn''t want Valerie to think she was
still pining after her grandson. Who knows what Old Madam Buckley will think of me? She might even
question the girls'' birth story! I should have done more than throw Jonathan over my shoulder this
morning; I ought to have punched the lights out of him!
"There''s nothing going on between Jonathan and I."
"Well, then, let''s just stick to my n, shall we?"
Greg threw the words out huffily and stood up, then left. He was obviously angry, but Abigail didn''t ask
why. She was a little more offended by his domineering attitude than baffled by his grizzly bear
impression.
"Greg, this is my business."
"It''s no longer your business now that my family is involved!" he practically growled, not at all stopping
in his tracks.
Suddenly, she wondered aloud, asking, "You''re not doing this to cover up my history with Jonathan, are
you?"
"So what if I am?" Greg finally halted in his steps, and he turned to stare at her meaningfully. His eyes
were dark, and right now, they were like intimidating ck whirlpools, though the effect was lost on
Abigail.
Out of nowhere, she sputtered and asked, "Why are you worried that others might find out about my
history with him? Are you in love with me or something?"
Greg thought his heart had stopped beating for a second when she said this. In a voice like ice, he
snapped, "In love with you? Don''t be ridiculous! Do I look like a masochist to you?" With that, he
stormed out of the room and mmed the door shut behind him with such force that it rattled against its
frame. It was clear that he was outraged.
Left alone, Abigail resisted the urge to pout like a bitter child. Okay, so you aren''t in love with me. You
don''t have to tear down the house to prove it.
In actuality, she loathed herself for asking such a stupid question in the first ce. She and Greg would
be living in two different worlds, destined to never meet, if it weren''t for the two girls she had with him.
At the thought of this, a bitter chuckle escaped her. Oh, you''ve grown sentimental, Abigail, she chided
herself listlessly.
She turned around and saw that Greg had left his jacket behind, but she didn''t feel like giving it back to
him. He could afford to lose a jacket.
She stretched out on the couch and felt an unprecedented exhaustion wash over her. She was lonely
here, and she had no friends to talk to. She was suddenly seized by the urge to move back to Marona.
In the time that followed, shey on the couch and spaced out, letting time tick by in silence.
Half an hourter, the doorbell sounded.
Abigail couldn''t be bothered to get up, for she didn''t care who was out there right now; she only wanted
to lie down and let herself waste away in the stillness of the house.
The person outside pressed the doorbell again, but when no one answered, he took the spare key from
his pocket and let himself in.
Upon seeing Greg walk into the house with a tray of food in hand, Abigail bolted upright on the couch
and gaped at him with wide eyes. "Why do you have the keys to my house?"
"It''s hardly a mystery. My buddy owns the ce, and I''m house-sitting for him, so of course, I''d have a
spare key. Also, why didn''t you get the door when you''re justzing around the house? What the hell
were you getting up to anyway?"
Having said that grumpily, Greg ced the tray down on the dining table.
Abigail bridled at what he said. He has the spare key to this ce? That means he cane and leave
as he pleases while I''m staying here! This is unbelievable!