Chapter 64: Who Is Abigail?

Chapter 64: Who Is Abigail? The car was silent as Jamal drove, and they both kept stealing glances at each other through the rearview mirror. Their eyes met. It was brief at first. A stolen glance and they both looked away. Then another. Each time, the space between them seemed to shrink despite the physical distance in the car. Neither of them spoke. It was like they were both waiting for the other to say something first. To initiate the conversation they needed to have. The weight of unspoken words, of unanswered questions, of shared history, lingered between them like an invisible thread pulling them closer. Jamal’s hands were steady on the wheel as he did his best to focus on the road ahead. Abigail on the other hand held tightly to the strap of her handbag, her gaze flickering between the passing streets and the rearview mirror. The car slowed to a stop when the traffic light ahead of them blinked red, and immediately Jamal turned slightly, his brown eyes meeting hers fully this time. He raised his hands and signed, [Do you think it’s safe to talk in the car?] he asked since he couldn’t trust a man like Ryan not to put listening devices in the cars of his daughters. He had been holding back from talking all the while because he didn’t want to take any risks or make any mistakes. Abigail she shook her head and the signed back. [I don’t know if it’s safe. But it’s best to play safe.] Jamal held her gaze for a moment longer before nodding. Without another word, he faced forward. Abigail pursed her lips for a moment, and then to his surprise she scooted to the other side of the car and unlocked the door. He turned to her, raising a brow as he wondered what she was up to, but she didn’t say anything as she got into the front seat so it would be easier to communicate with him. [You shouldn’t turn around that way.] she signed to him, and Jamal gave her a nod and resumed driving when the traffic light turned green. As he drove, Abigail tried to organize her thoughts and all the questions she needed to ask him, and then her brows pulled together when she looked up and noticed the unfamiliar streets they were turning into. She turned to him slightly, her brows furrowing as she signed, [This is not the way to the store.] Jamal shook his head but didn’t answer. He just kept driving. The roads became more recognizable now, but not in the way she expected. A sinking feeling settled in her chest when he pulled into the parking lot of LP Luxe Apparel, a high end fashion store. She turned to him, her expression questioning. [This isn’t where we shop.] Jamal cut the engine before he signed back, [A friend owns here. We can have some privacy here and talk here.] Abigail shook her head, [Or you can just drive to the shopping mall where we shop and we can sit back in the car and sign like this.] [I don’t want to sign. I want to hear you talk.] Jamal sighed back before unlocking the door. Abigail sighed inwardly as she followed him out of the car, cursing herself for the slip she had made in the plane. They walked side by side in silence until they were far enough from the vehicle. Then, finally, Jamal spoke. "I couldn’t wait anymore." His voice was low, edged with something unreadable. "This was the best place I could think of where we’d have some privacy." Abigail glanced around, wary. Then she signed, [I don’t think we should talk here. We should still be careful.] Jamal looked at her with interest. "Why are you always so careful? You were this way at the airport too." She didn’t answer. She just looked at him and shook her head. He sighed again and pushed open the glass door of the boutique. "You know what? Go on. Look around," he said. "Get whatever you need while I make some phone calls." As she stepped inside, he pulled out his phone and dialed Stefan’s number. "Where are you?" he asked the moment Stefan picked up. Stefan, who was driving Genevieve’s car and had pulled over the moment he saw the call from Jamal, raised a brow. "I just left the hotel. Why?" Stefan asked. Jamal glanced over at Abigail, who was browsing through the racks of clothing, her expression unreadable. Lowering his voice, he said, "I need you to ask Genevieve to send her driver to the hotel. Make up something. I need to be there." Stefan was quiet for a moment, wondering what Jamal wanted to do this time, and then he sighed. "Alright. Give me a sec." The moment Jamal hung up, Stefan turned to Genevieve, who was staring at him with interest as she wondered who he had been talking to. "That was someone from the Hotel. They need me at the hotel," he said without stating any exact reason since he couldn’t come up with any good reason. "Oh! Let’s go back then," Genevieve suggested but he shook his head. "I’d rather not. I do not like interacting with people much apart from my loved ones. My assistant usually does all of that. If it wouldn’t be a bother, could you ask Pete to handle this on my behalf?" He asked, looking at her hopefully. "Oh. Pete is busy with Abigail at the moment. We can go back and I’ll handle the issue if you want," she said, and then Stefan’s brows pulled together when he remembered that he had forgotten to ask her who Abigail was, since he heard her mention the name earlier. And hearing now that Jamal was with Abigail made him wonder what was going on and if there was any chance at all that it was the Abigail he was thinking. Why would Jamal who was busy with Abigail be wanting to go to the hotel? "Who is Abigail?" He asked, and Genevieve opened her mouth to say she was the maid’s daughter but hesitated. She didn’t want Jamal to be interested in any way in who Abigail was.