Mystic Deeds

• Mystic Deeds - Word Count TBD
Status:  WIP


The City of Vard on the planet Merth was a place where Svenians lived immortal lives, able to freely practice sorcery. It was a city of peace and prosperity until the Black Barons unleashed a plot to bind all Svenian powers, forcing innocent lives into a world of servitude. Only five escaped, finding their way to Earth to bide their time until the Oracle’s predicted “day of reckoning.”


Arriving in the 1920’s in Long Beach, California, Vincent Webb, an efficient sorcerer and expert traveler, led the escapees to safety. Under Vincent’s guidance, the five lived covertly idle, hiding strategically around the globe. Using magic can be deadly and the five can do nothing but wait a lifetime.


Living present day, Abigail Scott is a young, beautiful and successful partner with a prestigious New York commercial real estate law firm. However successful her career, Abigail’s brilliant mind and incredible work ethic has led her down a lonely, loveless path. As an only child, her life is altered drastically when her mother, Elaina dies, bequeathing her house and all its contents to Abigail. Devastated by grief, Abigail soon discovers her mother befriended a young man and real estate developer, Vince Webb. He’s handsome and cocky and according to her mother’s will, he’s managed to nudge his way into the Scott’s home and life.


Both Abigail and Vincent want something from each other. Abigail wants Vince gone and Vince wants her house. Once their true motives collide, they’ll have to learn to trust one another, forcing them into unwanted intimacy. When things heat up between these two, the sparks fly and then the real magic begins.

Prologue


Setting in the City of Vard in a forgotten world of Merth


Out of breath and out of time, the five Svenians cut through the backwoods outside the city’s vast walls. Nestled deep inside a fortress of fjords, the once thriving metropolis named Vard was now place of chaos and despair.


With stealth precision, the innocent maneuvered their way around the perimeter set by the Black Barons and their guards. The night was thick with mist; a clear indication that evil loomed in the shadows. Fear weighed on the five, fear they would never get out alive. Fleeing the dying world was their only hope for survival, the only way to salvage their kind.


Arriving at a hidden clearing, only four halted directly in front of the makeshift toran: Vincent & Katherine Webb and Bryant & Raquel Sween. The toran was the portal to the unknown; a way out of the Svenian’s hell.


Hunched over and delving ragged breaths, Katherine peered around counting only four. The fifth, Samuel Kam took an alternate path in a desperate attempt to thwart the fast approaching black guards.


Still panting heavily, Vincent summoned his resolve, pulling out a sophisticated time compass. With a few swift clicks, he calmly initiated the activation sequence for their journey. Raising his arms towards the toran, his face grew severe, focused on singeing the final charge to trigger the portal.


Katherine cried out. “We cannot leave him, Vincent.”


Vincent glanced up, calculating the time measurements while sweat trickled off his brow.


“I know,” he clipped.


“No,” Raquel shrieked. “We’re not going to leave him…are we?” Her panicked eyes shifted to Vincent and then the others.


Vincent shook his head, gritting his teeth. “We cannot wait much longer.”


On the outskirts of the mountainous region buried in Bree’s forest, a flash of light shot up into the night’s sky, rearing a sparkling prismatic beam towards to city.


Frightened into hysteria, Katherine screamed. “Magic!” Gapping in sheer terror, she continued. “He’ll kill us all. What’s Samuel doing?”


Raquel darted to Katherine’s side, grasping a hold of her in fear and joining Katherine’s alarm. “He will kill us, Vincent.”


“Stop it, you two. He will make it.” Bryant scolded the two females and glared at Vincent, “Start the continuum.”


Vincent shook his head, glaring at Katherine. “It’s time.”


Not waiting for a response, Vincent, thrust his open hands forward towards the gateway and threw his head back summoning all his cerebral powers. Cloaked between two unknown magical trees, the portal contraptions stood. Vincent’s surge of current charged the 12 x 12 feet wall of open air, illuminating a pool of black emptiness. Unfamiliar sounds ricocheted from its surface as the wind hit the sheathed liquid.


Vince’s eyes had gone ghostly with his conjuring. Glancing in the direction of Bryant he nodded, “Bryant, first you and Raquel.”


“No,” cried Raquel, “I want to go with Katherine.”


Vincent coolly commanded. “Katherine goes with me. Now go.”


“But what about Samuel?” Raquel yelled back.


Before Vincent could respond, Bryant grabbed her elbow, dragging her forward. “He will make it. We must go.”


With little hesitation, Bryant with Raquel in tow, hurried into the liquid, disappearing instantly into a wall of nothingness.


Vincent paced towards Katherine, held his hand out. “It’s now or never, sister.”


Katherine nodded in defeat, joined hands with Vincent and fell into place by his side. Before stepping inside, she gazed back at Vince with sheen of tears in her eyes. “What about Sam?”


“He’s fine. Don’t you see…his show…it was a diversion. He will come. We’ll meet him on the other side. You’ll see.”


“But what if the Barons follow?”


“By the time they figure out what happened, we will be long gone.”


With his arm around his sister, Vincent gave a tug at her side, placing an endearing kiss on her head. The two siblings walked steadily into the solvent wall, evaporating into total darkness.


Inside the time warp were a series of flashes which danced sporadically around Vincent and Katherine. The imagery was in such disarray, Katherine became disoriented and nauseous from the scene. Soon after, her knees began to shake. Vincent stabilized his sister with his firm hold and whispered gently, “Do not fear, sister. This is my world, and you are safe.”




Destination: Earth, Long Beach, California, Date: 1922


On the other side of the portal, Katherine and Vincent landed effortlessly, stepping down a few steps from a wooden trellis. The structure marked opposite side of Vincent’s makeshift toran. Advancing onto a patch of manicured grass, Katherine’s eyes ignored the scenery, focusing only her friends.


Sitting on a nearby rod iron lawn chair, Raquel sat dazed and visually shaken, awaiting Katherine and Vincent’s arrival. Her auburn hair was long with cascading curls that draped and pinned elegantly, accentuating her vibrant green eyes. Raquel was a visual goddess, appearing precisely like where she had come from, another world. With her distinct cheekbones and full mouth, she wore a bronze, leather overcoat, adorned with double breasted buttons trailing the front.


Like the others, she wore functionals underneath. Functionals were garments Svenians used which were comfortable shirts and pants worn strictly for athletic movements like riding or exercising. The pristine coat was used as a ruse; an inconspicuous attempt that Raquel and the others wore to divert suspicion from the Barons and their men. They were less suspecting of Svenians donned in formal attire.


Bryant stood behind Raquel, holding her hand and wearing a similar garb, only a more masculine version. Like his sister, he adorned the unique-looking cheekbones and delicious green apple eyes. While his hair was still chocolate brown, its length only fell to his shoulders. His duster length coat was a similar rich color to the others, although his attire was outfitted for a man. Katherine dressed precisely like Raquel but that’s where their similarities ended. Her long blond hair gracefully draped sparingly around her shoulders, highlighting her angelic face and assaulting blue eyes. Vincent wore his hair pulled back in a mid ponytail, looking every bit as godly as his sister with the exception of his black hair.


Breathing a sigh of relief, Vince walked through the small private courtyard and jetted up a set of stairs onto a sizeable back porch in a private residence.


“Come,” he said while searching under a small table for the key to the backdoor.


“What about Samuel?” Raquel asked in exasperation.


Before Vincent could respond, Samuel shimmered through the portal onto the world of Earth. The four kinsmen turned, startled by Samuel’s entry.


“Miss me?” He said with a wry smile.


Samuel, like his comrades, was donned in the same attire and just like Vincent, had inky hair. His clear distinction and most handsome attribute was his wide topaz eyes, giving him a look of innocence. Like his brethren, all the men were over six feet tall with broad builds and strong dispositions.


Upon Samuel’s entrance, Vincent glanced back while opening the door. Taking a few steps back, Raquel, Katherine and Bryant launched a barrage of comments to Samuel, declaring their angst and asking about his escape.


Vincent intervened. “We must get inside now...”


“And hello to you, my friend.” Samuel said in jest.


Vincent shot back a smile and nod to his friend. “I never doubted you for one second.”


Peering around at the garden-like environment, Samuel asked Vincent, “Where are we, Traveler?”


Now that their friend was clear from doom, his comments prompted the others to ogle about, taken in the scenery more closely. It was a small piece of land, no more than a half an acre, surrounded by lush palm trees and other tropical bushes secluding the property in complete privacy.


“I’ll get to that in a minute. We need to get inside now. We can’t go around wearing these where we are now.” Vincent said, pointing to his and everyone else’s attire.


As the others began to follow his lead, into the residence, Vincent asked Samuel, “Did you close the portal on the other side?”


“Yes.” Samuel said firmly. “Disengaged it inside the continuum, just as you said.”


“Good.” Vincent replied, heading over to the trellis to lodge a sizeable wood pole in between the portal and shaking the liquid as the gateway was still active. Taking a step back, he threw his arms out and withdrew his powers, closing the gate and access to the other side.


“Why did you do that?” Samuel asked, pointed to the newly lodged pillar. “No one has your power. It isn’t necessary what you’ve done here nor was it necessary what I did to disengage the other entry. Why?”


Turning around to meet Samuel’s gaze, Vincent in a deep and controlling voice, “Because, one can never be too certain.”


Shaking his head and now grinning, Samuel asked, “You always have a backup plan, don’t you my friend?”


Vincent chuckled before responding. “You can count on it.”




The five Svenians entered was a newly constructed home located on Saphire Way. The property was purchased by Vincent some time before his friends attempted to escape the world of Merth. It would be the new home of Vincent and Katherine Webb; the place where they’d reside for the next 50 years. The others would receive assigned locations in other metropolises around the globe. Samuel was to reside in England, while Raquel and Bryant where deployed to Norway. Keeping everyone sprawled out was essential for them and their safety. Vincent handled all the logistics for relocation of his friends to the new world. He managed every detail including acquiring properties, new identities, money, and even a new wardrobe. Both the woman and men needed hair cuts to blend into the 20th century, especially during the time of the roaring twenties.


Cutting their hair was sacrilegious for Svenians, practically taboo. Considering the alternative would be staying in their homeland and returning to the wrath of the Barons. That was not likely. For these Svenians, living an eternal life with no power was more like being given a lobotomy. And that horrifying thought was the only reason why they abandoned their kin, left their motherland, hop scotching through dimensions, seeking refuge in the new world, Earth.








Chapter 1




Long Beach, California Present day


Abigail Scott sat quietly, subconsciously picking at her nails and adjusting her cuticles, praying to keep it together. Fidgeting wasn’t her thing. Heck, she loathed anything that made appear weak. Yet, as she sat there, unable to settle her nerves, she absently fidgeted. She couldn’t help it though. Sitting here in this god forsaken room was the last place she’d thought she’d ever be. The last time she saw her mother was less than three months prior, when Abigail visited from New York during Thanksgiving weekend. Now, just a few short months later, she was burying her mother, Elaina Scott, and mourning her departure, cursing herself for not spending more time with her.


It was far too little too late for Abigail to have those gut wrenching thoughts, especially now. Being the only child and thus, the closest living relative, Abigail was stuck healing her tattered heart and in the process, tying up the loose ends of her mother’s estate.


Sitting in a room bordered with dark wood paneling, Abigail casually glanced at the deteriorating books, antique furniture and winced internally at the overwhelming scent of dust masked by furniture wax. It was a setting she was most familiar with, first growing up in a home full of 20th century antiques and then later practicing law. Despite the commonplace atmosphere, the subject matter still unnerved her. The reading of her mother’s will wasn’t how she anticipated. The true fact was she’d never quite envisioned it before. That notion alone, left her ill prepared to deal with her personal catastrophe.


Abigail loved her mother dearly and for her to be sitting listening to another lawyer spew off intimate details of her mother’s last wishes was nauseating. When Abigail found out Elaina actually had a will, it shocked her to no end. She hadn’t expected that, not from her mother. Why? Because after her father, Jack, died, some five years prior, Elaina suffered severe financial setbacks due to him not creating a will. But between, Abigail and Elaina, the two were able to fend off the State of California’s death claimers, enabling Elaina to retain most of Jack’s estate. And soon thereafter, Abigail tried relentlessly to get her mother to create a will. She gave up assuming, she’d have to deal with the entire mess once her mother passed.


Estate seemed like such a grandiose term to be used, especially when it came to the Scott’s, both Jack and Elaina. Abigail had a good chuckle when she rummaged through her father’s assets or better yet, liabilities. Good thing Elaina had a daughter for a lawyer, if not; Elaina would’ve been stuck with steep medical bills. Although probate law wasn’t exactly Abigail’s specialty, she did have an extensive network of lawyer friends. One call to her intricate network and she had some of the best attorneys assisting her in any plight necessary.


The biggest win came from her mother’s law suit against the State of California. After Jack died, Elaina lost her husband’s pension. Typically, if there were no wills attached to the estate, the state would intervene and divvy up all assets, except in this case, it was attempting to rescind Jack’s pension. Abigail worked tirelessly, trying to make sure her mother wouldn’t lose a penny of those benefits. Since Jack used to be a superintendent to the public school system in L.A. County, those benefits were some of the best in the state.


Looking back on her father’s passing and the heartache that came with it, all the law suits and arguing just seemed so futile now for Abigail. Both parents were dead and she was alone.


“Well, not entirely alone,” Abigail thought as she glanced up, staring at her Aunt next to her. Elise Julian was her mother’s sister and closest confidant. “Thank God she’s still here.”


Abigail’s Aunt Elise was the exact opposite of her mother, Elaina. Elaina had brown hair and gray eyes with gold flecks, while Elise had light hazel eyes with long blond hair. Elaina was petite, quiet and reserved and Elise was loud, obnoxious at times appearing as tall as an Amazon. Comparing them side by side, it was a wonder they were blood related. At least it was until you look at their parents – Abigail’s grandparents - Maury and Eleanor Julian. Elise took after her father in almost every way, even down to preferring women. Aunt Elise was a lesbian, coming right out of college after getting her undergraduate degree at UCLA. Elaina, on the other hand, was a mild mannered introvert who loved men. She was in every way, the exact replica of her mother, Eleanor. For as different as the two sisters were physically, they were still deeply connected in a sisterly bond that rooted far beyond blood.


Living only a short distance away from her sister, Aunt Elise, now 54, was visibly distraught by the death of her beloved sister. As was Abigail, naturally, however, Abigail’s emotions were barricaded deep within. Spending the last ten years as an attorney, reading poker faces and hedging all bets on her skill of manipulation, Abigail learned to be cold, calculating and above all, distant.


For the first twenty minutes of the will reading, the probate attorney, Frank Seedly Esq., an elderly man in his late sixties, over six feet tall with gray hair and gangly features perused through all the legal jargon.


“Pursuant to the State of California…,” Mr. Seedly crooned.


“Blah, blah, blah…” Abigail thought. She knew better than to listen to this part or any of it for that matter. It’s not that she didn’t trust Mr. Seedly; in fact he was a friend of her parents, a member of the family’s church and the father of a life-long friend of hers, Rebecca. None of that seemed to matter. To Abigail’s detriment, she was obsessive compulsive when it came to law and the fine art of reading and writing it. Her neurosis wouldn’t allow her to sit idle as just another beneficiary. She knew after all was said and done she’d politely ask for a copy of the will and other ancillary documents so later she could methodically go through them herself. After all, she had to ensure proper execution.


Spanning the room, Abigail glanced at her Uncle Fred, again on her mother’s side. Fred was the oldest and most distant of the siblings and like Aunt Elise, physically resembled Grandpa Maury. Abigail never had a sense of whether or not her mother liked or disliked her brother. She only knew of their distance, which in the back of her mind spoke volumes. She began to ask herself, “Why is he here?” Realizing, of course, that they all were summoned to attend the reading of Elaina Scott’s will, her mind really focused on “What does Uncle Fred want?” In pondering more thoughts like this one, she found her nausea increasing, courtesy of the stress. Abigail internally laughed thinking how preposterous it was for her mother to have anything of true value other than her intangible assets like love and friendship. They were the most valuable ones, only now they were gone.


Mr. Seedly cleared his throat, adjusting his tone a bit. Sounding a bit nasally from a history of sinus problems no doubt, he began, “For those of you that may have wandered off a bit, you might want to pay attention now as we get down to the nitty gritty of the will.”


The second he spoke those words, Mr. Seedly while keeping his head down, shifted his eyes above his bifocals and burned a severe gaze at Abigail.


Abigail glanced up, only moments later, feeling the heated glare upon her. Now folding her hands and no longer playing with her fingers, she grinned slightly, acknowledged the good attorney with a gentle nod to continue. Mr. Seedly finally turned his attention to the reading, prompting Abigail to roll her eyes. She thought to herself, “Who does he think he is? Judge in chambers? Unbelievable.”


Mr. Seedly continued. “I Elaina Scott, of sound mind ….. bequeath my assets to the following beneficiaries:


“First, Ms. Elise Julian…,” Mr. Seedly mildly glanced at Elise. In return, she blinked her eyes, sucking in her tears, sealed her lips and hesitantly nodded back.


“To my sister, Elise, I give my entire jewelry collection with the exception of my wedding and engagement rings. Along with the jewelry, I am giving all my fine china and silverware to my beloved sister. For these items, I have these special words for Elise,


“Dearest Elise, I leave you only the smallest of knick knacks so that you may continue to play dress up and have tea, just like we used to when we were little. You are and always will be my truest of friends.”


Hearing those tender words from her dead sister sent Elise into an emotional tizzy. She cupped her hands over her face, shielding her tears while muffling her cries of hysteria. Abigail gingerly reached for her Aunt’s shoulder, gently consoling her for several moments.


Pausing for bereavement comments or effects, Mr. Seedly sat up and inhaled a rather large breath. Continuing his tactless theatrics, he reached for his glass to take what appeared to be a scheduled water break. Abigail watched him in awe, shocked at his lack of sensitivity. One thought came to her mind about the family friend. “He’s been practicing law too long.”


Once Aunt Elise held some composure, Mr. Seedly grunted through his throat. “Now, onto the next beneficiary, a…Ms. Abigail Scott.”


The second Abigail heard her name a tear escaped her right eye and she froze. It was almost too real as it hit her once again, that her mother was dead. Her nasal passages started running, causing her to accidently sniffle, which alarmed her even more than the tear. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and summoned all her strength to cool her emotions.


Mr. Seedly continued, “To my one and only child, Abigail Scott, I deed my house along with its contents in Long Beach, California. In addition, I leave mine and my husband’s wedding and engagement rings.”


Slowly, the attorney extended a #10 size envelope with Abigail’s name written on it. He slightly waved it for her to accept it, Mr. Seedly added soberly, “Here’s a special note she’s written for you, Abby.”


Abigail sat stiff, looking blankly at Mr. Seedly. Lost in a mindless trance staring past him, she was dumbfounded, never expecting to have her mother dump her entire life in her lap. A barrage of memorable conversations or arguments rather, flooded her just then; ones she had within the last five years since her father's death.


She recalled stating several times in frustration, "I don't want your house, Mom."


"But it's your house too." Elaina replied tenderly.


"But…I live in New York." Abigail reminded her mother often.


"You may decide to come back." Elaina countered rather whimsically.


Giving another internal eye roll, Abigail murmured, "Not likely."


"Oh Sweetie,” Elaina cooed, while reaching over to pat Abigail’s hand, “Let's not argue about it now. I don't plan on dying anytime soon."


That was the last time they discussed the subject at Thanksgiving. Elaina Scott died of a heart attack less than ten days ago. No one knew she had a heart condition; although Abigail suspected one. She knew deep down her mother suffered from a broken heart ever since her father and partner of 31 years passed.


“Abby.” Mr. Seedly called, still holding the letter. “Abby?”


Hearing nothing more than a distant echo, Abigail continued to sit in silence, until she felt a comforting hand on her forearm. Aunt Elise was now the one doing the consoling. Her tender touch awakened Abigail’s trance, prompting Abigail to clear her throat. “Yes.”


She took the letter and placed it on her lap, and swept a fallen piece of hair behind her ear.


Mr. Seedly didn’t waste any time and promptly continued with the reading. “And you, Mr. Fredrick Julian.”


Mr. Seedly read while Abigail’s eyes glared at her uncle, taking in every emotion as he sat. He looked anxious, a bit too much from where Abigail was sitting, like he was waiting for his prize or what he thought was his fair share.


Grabbing another #10 envelope, this time addressed to Uncle Fred, Mr. Seedly held it out, waving it as a sign for him to come hither and retrieve it from the probate attorney.


Uncle Fred looked inquisitively at Mr. Seedly, confused that no words were spoken aloud about his allotment. He asked in haste as he took the envelope, “Mr. Seedly is there anything else, you’d like to address to me?” Fred paused for a second and then continued, “You know, anything indicating my dear sister’s last wishes to me?” His meaning was registered loud and clear to the other attendees, and simply put; the poor bastard was looking for more money.


“No, Mr. Julian.” Mr. Seedly said sternly. “Everything you need to know is spelled out right there in that letter from your sister. I suggest when you leave here you take a moment to read it, in private…as it was intended.”


Uncle Fred sighed with noticeable disappointment before calmly sitting back down. “Very well.”


Abigail couldn’t help but chuckle inside, knowing her mother must have stiffed her Uncle in some way.


“Serves him right” she said to herself, “He was an ingrate when she was alive, and that certainly hasn’t changed.”


Mr. Seedly then continued glancing up towards the room’s entrance, “Uh let’s see here,” He skimmed through more of his papers, for show nonetheless. “Oh good. I see that Mr. Webb has finally decided to join us…” Mr. Seedly purposely paused before emphasizing, “…late.”


After his verbal blast, he glared at the last beneficiary, prompting all the other attendees to follow suit.


Vincent Webb winced at the attorney’s scolding. “My apologies, Mr. Seedly. You can’t really be prompt when living in LA and dealing with its traffic, now can you?”


Abigail turned around, shifting her body to take a confusing gander at the unknown beneficiary; a strange person that her mother took the time to add herself. She ogled at him for several moments, taking in every aspect of his appearance.


Mr. Seedly grunted, mumbling some sort of profanity at the late comer. He then continued, “Mr. Webb, like the others, here is a letter from Elaina Scott.”


As he held the correspondence in mid air, Vincent promptly eased around the attendee’s and their chairs to retrieve the letter and went back to his position by the door to hear additional comments from Mr. Seedly.


Abigail watched Vincent intently as he brushed pass her heading towards Mr. Seedly. Vincent Webb was easy on Abigail’s eyes, and probably the majority of the female population. His presence was stifling in that room. At well over 6 feet tall, he had broad, thick shoulders and was obviously fit underneath his semi-polished attire. With a pair of dark blue eyes and short jet black, untamed hair, Mr. Vincent Webb was fine. And for a brief moment, Abigail sat stupefied by his good looks, and caught a whiff of a lingering scent of his enticing after shave. Momentarily suspended in awe, Abigail’s mouth became dry and her heart began to race. Unable to place the odd sensations assaulting her, she swallowed a lump in her throat. Blinking a few more times to collect her thoughts, she broke free from her spell and immediately became suspicious. She asked herself. “Who is this guy?”


Vincent stood returned to his original position, poised in the back of the room.


Mr. Seedly continued. “I, Elaina Scott, bequeath to Mr. Vincent Webb, the first right to purchase said home and contents from my daughter Abigail Scott, should Abigail choose to sell. In addition, Mr. Webb is now the proud owner of Toby, Elaina’s pet turtle.”


The words didn’t register to Abigail right away. Glaring back at Mr. Seedly, trying to comprehend his comments, her initial thoughts were, “Toby? Why would she give him away?”


Toby was originally Abigail’s pet turtle. He was a 15 inch Red-Eared Slider turtle that had to be well over 30 plus years old. As a child, Abigail first met Toby while traipsing over to her then neighbor’s house, The Shirley’s. At four years old, she was the only person ever allowed to enter into their household unannounced and before 7:30am. Elaina used to be mortified by her daughter’s exuberance. But ever since the Shirley’s met the adorable, Abby, with her gray wide eyes, and long brown haired, the thought never crossed their minds to protest her daily visits. The Shirley’s loved Abby and every one of her childhood antics. Almost every morning, Abigail woke up the friendly neighbors, and would then jet back down their stairs, to their backyard to feed their pet turtle, Toby. Some five years later, The Shirley’s moved, relocating to Colorado and before they left, they gave Toby to Abigail. That was more than 25 years ago. And for the last 15 years, Abigail was at college and then law school - all at NYU - and then, of course, decided to stay in the big apple, to pursue her career in real estate law.


In Abigail’s litigious mind, it must have been a combination of neglect, abandonment or possibly even a case of possession, resulting in her mother taking ownership of Toby. Now, she was shocked, stunned and growing angry with resentment that this jack-off, Vincent Webb - someone she had no clue about - was now the new owner of her childhood pet turtle.


“Breathe Gail. Breathe. Calm down. Don’t even look at him. Don’t look.” She told herself. Abigail, who now went by Gail, to at least everyone outside of this room, had her lips pursed talking to herself, attempting to calm her internal storm brewing.


Abigail managed to steal a glance towards Aunt Elise who was more visibly shocked than Abigail. Sensing her niece’s angst, Aunt Elise leaned over and patted Abigail’s hand, a familiar gesture that reminded her of er mother, Elaina. Under any other circumstances, Abigail would have been soothed by the loving gesture, but at that particular moment, she noticeably shook of her Aunt’s concern and turned away.


Being taken back from the shear fact she’d just buried her mother, a person she revered with much love and respect, she could barely wrap her head around the funeral, let alone Elaina’s will reading. But this, a man she’d never met or heard her mother speak of, caused alarms to fire off in her head.


As a lawyer, in Abigail’s world, everything was suspect. In a manner of seconds, Abigail became beyond suspicious. Unnerved, her mind reeled as she considered Mr. Seedly, the will and its beneficiaries. In an instant, everything became less and less about her mother’s funeral and more about vetting ulterior motives from everyone, including a mysterious Vincent Webb.


Vincent took all the hostile glares in stride, focusing on no one else in the room, except Mr. Seedly. He knew his appearance and his mention would probably cause strife.


Mr. Seedly preceded with a few more grants to various non profits to mostly animal rescue and humane societies nonprofit groups, including PETA. Soon after he concluded the will reading and within a matter of seconds, Abigail could hear her Aunt and Uncle calling her name in unison, “Abby.”


Wincing at hearing her childhood name, she ignored their calls and decided to not make eye contact with them, not just yet. With her head down, she put her mother’s letter in her oversized Kate Spade bag and then her one track mind began to focus on Mr. Seedly. She got up and took a few steps closer to his oversized desk and politely asked, “Mr. Seedly.”


Mr. Seedly, lifted his gaze slightly, again his eyes peering above the rim of his bifocals. “Yes, Abby?”


Abigail, cringed once again hearing herself being referenced as a kid and decided to correct him, hoping everyone else in the room would follow suit. “I go by Gail now, Mr. Seedly…remember?” She was a professional by now for Christ’s sake.


“Yes I do.” He replied with a scoff. “But to me…you’ll always be Abby. Now…what can I do for you?”


“Slam.” She thought but continued. “Can I get a copy of my mother’s will, please?”


Mr. Seedly gave her puzzled look and responded tersely. “Why?”


Abigail tilted her chin. “Well, frankly…since it appears that I hold the bulk of her estate, I’d want to make sure that, legally, I have all my I’s dotted and T’s crossed. I’m sure you can understand.”


He managed to sigh almost indefinitely, again for show. “Suit yourself. I’ll have my assistant get you a copy of all the documents.”


“Thank you, Mr. Seedly.” Abigail said with a congenial smile.


She began to retreat when Mr. Seedly then asked, “What address do you want me to have them send it to? Here, at your mother’s address? Or in New York?”


The room instantly stilled.


It was a question everyone wanted to know. That and how long she planned to stay and what exactly where her plans, now that her mother was gone.


The weight of room’s attention bore on her shoulders. Feeling all eyes on her, she could sense Vincent’s eyes and ears were burning with anticipation.


Knowing this, she decided to keep them all guessing, especially Vincent. Abigail feigned a smile. “You can send it to my mother’s address. Thanks again, Mr. Seedly.”


Mr. Seedly grunted, nodded once before going back to shuffling his papers and looking busy. He was obviously happy to have the meeting over and Abigail suspected even more thrilled to get everyone out of his office.


Turning to Aunt Elise, Abigail asked, “Are we still getting together?”


Elise was now towering next to Abigail, cowering a bit, desperately trying to connect with her niece’s eyes. “We sure are sweetie. Are you okay Abby?”


“I’m fine.” Abigail said dismissively. “Do you want to get something to eat?” She asked quickly, trying to change the subject and then her uncle interrupted.


“Abby, honey, how long are in town for?” Uncle Fred couldn’t even wait until they left the will reading.


“I’m not sure. Are you coming with us?” Abigail said with a smile, concealing her distaste.


Uncle Fred was caught off guard. “Oh thanks for inviting me. But I can’t. What about dinner?”


Dinner, lunch just the whole notion of getting together was not at all what Abigail wanted.


“You know what…how bout I get settled first, okay?” She said, hiding her irritation. “I haven’t even been to Mom’s house yet.”


“Of course, dear. You just let me know when we can get together.” Uncle Fred added, while lightly stroking her arm; a gesture that sent a chill of repulsion down her spine.


“Thanks ,Uncle Fred.” Abby said and then shifter her attention back to her Aunt again. “Where are we going?”


Before Aunt Elise could respond, Abigail sensed the young man’s presence again, this time directly behind her right shoulder and seconds later.


“Ms. Scott?”


Abigail subconsciously did her infamous eye roll and turned around. “Yes.”


“I’m Vince. Vince Webb…a friend of your mothers,” he added gingerly.


Seeing the attractive man this close was only slightly bothersome. Still, Abigail remained composed. She professionally extended her hand out to greet Vince and the two shook hands for a brief second.  Abigail could feel unmistakable heat permeating from his grip.


Vince quickly added. “I’m terribly sorry about your mother. She was a lovely-”


Abigail cut Vince off before he could finish.


“Thank you for your condolences. Mr. Webb.” She said the last part while batting her eye lashes, donning another fake smile.


Vince continued. “Uh sure. Listen, if you have a minute, I’d like to talk to you.”


Abigail derailed the conversation again this time sounding cold.


“Actually, I don’t. Not right now. Do you have a card or a number where I can reach you later?”


“Uh…Sure.” Vince said awkwardly, pulling out a business card from his jacket and handing to Abigail. He wasn’t quite prepared for Abigail’s – the daughter of sweet, Elaina – cold reception.


“Thanks. I’ll be in touch.” She replied curtly.


Before she could turn around, Vince added, “Uh thanks…” Pausing for a split second, sighed, scratching his head, unsure how to proceed. “It’s just that…I heard you just say you hadn’t been to the house yet? Is that right?”


“Yes. I’m not sure what concern it is of yours.” She said, giving him a stony glare.


Vince gave a tight-lipped smiled. “Well…I thought you should know that my sister, Katherine… was or is a tenant of your mother’s.” He replied, bracing himself for her response.


Losing only a tiny bit of her control, Abigail demanded, “What?”
Apparently, Abigail not only had to deal with this stranger having first rights to buy her childhood home, but now his sister as a tenant. 


Still keeping the coolest disposition, Vince said. “Yes. You see…my sister’s been living in the apartment behind your mother’s house for the last couple of months.”


Abigail swallowed hard. “And?”


Shrugging his shoulders, Vince replied. “And…I thought you should know. I understand you’re busy and when you get a moment to discuss it…just let me know.”


Abigail stood stunned.  Vincent Webb gave a slight nod and a tiny bow then smoothly exited out the door.


Leaving the law office building of Frank Seedly, Esq. Vince exhaled an exorbitant amount of relief. That was far more difficult than he anticipated. The result did, however, manage to pry a smile on his face, despite the tenseness of the situation. At the end of the day, he got what he wanted. Almost.


Vince’s memory jarred him and he recalled first meeting Abigail’s mother, Elaina. She was lovely from the beginning and from what he could see, tragically the bi-polar opposite of her daughter. That is, everything except for her daughter’s looks. Abigail was a visual delight, with striking features reminiscent of a younger, feistier, Elaina. Thinking about the resemblance caused him to pause and then smile. She was a beauty, even in a boring gray suit. And when Abigail peered around her eyes, along with her intent, penetrated deep into his soul.


Vince’s mind recalled he face in particular detail. With her oval face, pouty pink lips and the long wavy brown hair tied back into a perfect ponytail, she radiated seduction. “This should be fun,” he thought. He chuckled when recalling her becoming ruffled, even swearing to himself, thinking how her cheeks went flush in frustration during their conversation. Oh she was giving off some heat all right, and it had nothing to do with her anger.


Friends or not, it didn’t matter to Vince. In his mind, it would only be a matter of time until he got yet another thing he wanted from the Scott family.

Copyright 2009-2011 by Mina Burrows.

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