Chapter 24 – Second Chance Love of the Missing Groom Novel

She and Diarmuid were married only in name, so she did not actually have a boyfriend.

Ms. Lang beamed just then, and linked arms with Abigail intimately. “So, I have a favor to ask.”

Over the last few days Abigail worked at the dance school, Ms. Lang had taken good care of her, but her sudden gesture of intimacy still left Abigail unsettled.

Gently pulling her arm off Ms. Lang‘s, Abigail said, “If it‘s within my ability, you need just ask– I apologize in advance if it isn‘t.”

Hesitating for a moment, Ms. Lang then said, “Well, my husband is the owner of Dorime Pharmaceuticals, and he has a research team developing a medicine against cancer. He’s spent massive amounts of capital, and there had been some progress when he ran out of funds. That‘s why he‘s looking to secure an investment, but as you can tell, not everyone is that eager. Luckily, my husband found an interested party recently, but the last meeting was a no–show from them. That‘s why my husband had the feeling they might ghost… Moreover, the other party is single and an eligible bachelor…”

“Hold on…” Abigail cut her short. “I don‘t understand.”

What did all that have to do with her? She did not have the capital to invest, even though as a doctor, she hoped that there were more of such pharmaceutical industries. In fact, she would be willing to help for nothing in return if she was rich, but the reality was that she was a working class person, and she could not be of help. “Well,” Ms. Lang said, cutting to the chase, “my husband is thinking about bringing along a pretty face to the meeting…” “Wait…” Abigail murmured as realization struck her–so, she was going to hang out with the investor to get Ms. Lang‘s husband his funding… or worse? Hence, she quickly refused. “Thank you for offering me a job, but I‘m not that kind of girl, and I‘m really bad at sweet–talking people. That‘s why I can‘t help you.”

Ms. Lang was aware that she was making things hard for Abigail, and since it was a stretch anyway, she waved her off in slight disappointment.

“I know I‘m asking for too much.” She sighed. “But my husband just can‘t get an investor, and he would rather not accept foreign investment, since that means being controlled, which is something he doesn‘t want.”

Abigail looked at Ms. Lang then. After getting to know her, Abigail found her a kind and dutiful person. While she was strict toward her students and her fellow instructors , she was also understanding.

She was a ‘what you see is what you get‘ sort of person.

“I understand where you‘re coming from–I used to be a doctor,” Abigail said, clenching her fingers.

She knew very well that the involvement of foreign capital would result in the medication price being controlled by foreign investors despite successful research, and the ones who would suffer were the poor who could not afford it.

Even if she was not a doctor now, her sense of duty never waned.

“I could try?” she said, even though she was inexperienced and had no confidence in succeeding.

Ms. Lang was in her forties, and her figure was well maintained since she was a dancer. Though her face was slowly showing signs of aging, she was elegant and did not appear to suffer from stress, which was a testimony to her loving marriage with her husband.

Abigail envied Ms. Lang, for she had a fulfilling marriage while being able to retain her passion to her satisfaction.

On the other hand, Abigail was doing a job that had nothing to do with her dreams, while her marriage was a mess. “Really?” Ms. Lang exclaimed in delight as she held Abigail‘s hand. “Thank you!”

“You don‘t have to thank me yet– I don‘t know if I‘ll be of any help,” Abigail replied modestly.

“It‘s fine!” Ms. Lang chirped. “As long as we do our best!”

Abigail was still nervous after accepting Ms. Lang‘s request.

She put on makeup for once, dressed more boldly than usual, and took a trip to the pharmacy just in case.

She was not such a great person that she would willingly sacrifice herself.

Soon, she arrived at the luxury diner where she found Ms. Lang and her husband, Mark Wickers.

He had white hair above his sideburns although he had yet to reach his fifties.

As she took her seat, the door to their private room opened again.

She looked up and saw Stan, who was followed by a towering figure outside the doorway.

 Abigail froze when she saw Diarmuid‘s burly figure entering the room.

At the same time, Mark got up and greeted Diarmuid respectfully. “Mr. Althoff.”

Somehow, Diarmuid‘s eyes darted past Mark‘s face and landed on Abigail.

Ever since he knew her, she never put on any makeup, and her usual sense of fashion tended to be conservative.

In fact, he never saw her in anything with straps–but now, she wore a dress so red it seemed to accentuate the blush in her skin.

Mark noticed that Abigail was not moving, and reached out to tug at her. “Come on, please stand and greet Mr. Althoff.”

However, when Mark‘s fingers touched Abigail‘s hand, Diarmuid‘s expression darkened. If he was not sane, he would have rushed forward and pulled Abigail toward himself.

At the same time, Abigail stood up, her dress accentuating her perfect figure, adding layers to her coquettish side for no reason.

Batting his eyelashes, there was a brief flash that quickly disappeared from Diarmuid’s eyes.

On the other hand, Abigail was nervous–she did not expect that they were going to meet Diarmuid! If she did, she would never have agreed to this!

“Mr. Althoff…” she stammered.

“This is Ms. Bernstein.” Mark smiled as he introduced her, and beckoned for her to pull out a chair for Issac.

Abigail clenched her fingers. She was sweating bullets from her palms, just as she was unsure why she was so afraid of Diarmuid.

Perhaps it was because he constantly humiliated her, bullying her and compelling her to tiptoe around him.

Either way, she was on edge, even as she pretended not to know him and pulled out a chair for him. “Mr. Althoff.”

After Diarmuid sat, Abigail was about to leave when Diarmuid caught her by the wrist.

Still, it was a common scene when it came to beauties hovering around the negotiation table.

In fact, most parties who had a favor to ask tended to have something like this ready–these ladies were pawns to be sacrificed, and Abigail was one of them.

His wife, reduced to offering her body!

Hmph.

He chuckled darkly, even as Abigail felt as if he was going to crush her wrist.

She was shivering in pain, and wanting nothing less than to escape his grip and turn to run. However, she would draw Mark‘s attention if she did, so she had to stay and flash pretty smiles, or even fawn over Diarmuid.

Stan, who was standing behind Diarmuid, glanced at Abigail just then, while wondering what she was playing at.

If she showed her face in public like this, what would people think of his boss if they found out that she was his wife? Would Diarmuid have an ounce of dignity left?

Diarmuid looked up at Abigail coldly then, and turned to Mr. Wickers.

Despite knowing the answer, he asked, “Why did you bring a woman like her here, Mr. Wickers?”

Mark smiled, sensing that Diarmuid was interested in Abigail.” She‘s a dance instructor at my wife‘s dance school, and I thought she could join us to liven things up.”

“Dance instructor?”

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