by Isla Drake
We haven’t spoken since the café this morning. We passed one another in the hallway twice, barely making eye contact. If Hannah got the flowers I sent, she isn’t letting on. I didn’t sleep much last night after that disastrous phone call. Sometime around 2 am, I came to the realization that I needed to talk to Hannah one-on-one. It needed to be somewhat private but not so private that I’d find a way to rip her clothes off again.
What I also realized while I was lying there in the dark is that while neither of us had planned the events in my office, I’m also not sorry it happened. It had been incredible. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to do it again. Plus, I like Hannah. I always have. Maybe it’s time to get to know her better. To let go of some of my rules. The more I considered the idea, the more I liked it. Squinting at my bright phone screen in the darkness, I ordered flowers to be delivered to Hannah in her office. I knew I’d messed up the night before and needed a way to get her attention. Once I placed the order, my mind calmed and I was finally able to get a few hours of sleep before my alarm went off.
Now I’m sitting in my office, waiting to find out if she’ll accept my invitation. I tell myself it’s just dinner. I just want to talk to her, gauge her interest. Before she’d hung up on me last night, she’d said that she wasn’t sorry about what had happened. Did that mean she wanted it to happen again? That’s why I need to talk to her. I run a hand through my hair in frustration. I’m 34 years old and acting like an awkward teenager afraid to talk to a girl he likes. What’s wrong with me? I need to pull myself together. In an effort to distance myself from Hannah, I stay in my office and work on budget spreadsheets until my head hurts and my eyes are nearly crossed. When I finish, it’s nearly time for the ceremony.
The wedding goes perfectly. The skies are clear with just the slightest breeze to ruffle the bride’s veil as the happy couple speaks their vows. The courtyard is tastefully decorated with hydrangeas and trailing wisteria that perfume the evening air. Two hundred people are in attendance, their eyes trained on the bride and groom. But I can’t seem to take my eyes off Hannah. Tonight, she’s wearing a pale gray, shimmery dress that seems to catch the light when she moves. Her hair spills over her bare shoulders and down her back in soft waves. She’s watching the newly married couple as they share their first kiss. There’s a soft expression on her face and I wonder if she knows how beautiful she looks. I tear my eyes away from her before someone catches me staring.
By the time the reception draws to a close and the wedding guests begin to depart, I’ve nearly managed to drive myself crazy wondering why Hannah hasn’t responded to my invitation. Even if she doesn’t want to have dinner, she could at least say so. I know I’m being unfair. She’s been busy working her ass off with this wedding and all I can think of is whether last night was the first and last time I’ll get to see her naked. After maybe the tenth time I let myself imagine all the ways I could lure her somewhere private and get her out of that dress, I decide it may be time for me to go home. Hannah and her team have things well under control. I’d much rather obsess over Hannah on my couch in the comfort of my sweatpants than in this suit and tie.
Chapter Sixteen
Hannah
I slip off my heels as soon as I’m in my car. I let out something between a sigh and a whimper as I wiggle my aching toes. I’m so tired I think it’s possible I could sleep right here in the parking lot. If it weren’t for the prospect of a hot bath and my memory foam mattress, I just might do it. Instead, I force myself to put on my seatbelt and crank the car. My peonies are buckled into the passenger seat and I glance over at them before putting the car into gear.
“Fine,” I say, letting out a sigh. I use the hands-free feature to call Quinn and wait for her to answer. After 2 rings, her voice comes through the car’s speakers.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Nothing. Just finished a mega wedding. On my way home.”
“Ooh, fun. High society? Politician’s kid?”
I laugh. “Nope. Just your run-of-the-mill rich people. But they were nice. Not too demanding.”
“So, not a Bridezilla, then,” Quinn said.
“Nope. It was a beautiful wedding.” I sigh.
“What’s that sigh about?” Quinn sounds suspicious.
I almost smile. Quinn knows me so well. I take a deep breath.
“Well,” I begin. “Remember what you asked me the other day? About Finn? That answer has changed.”
Several seconds of silence pass before Quinn lets out an excited squeal when she figures out what I’m saying. “Oh. My. God! I need details! Tell me everything. I swear, Hannah you’d better not leave out anything.”
I laugh. “If you’ll shut up, I’ll tell you most of the details.”
“You’re no fun.”
“You get most or you get nothing,” I say. “Even best friends need some boundaries.”
“If you say so,” Quinn mutters. “Just tell me one thing. Was it as good as my imagination makes it out to be?”
I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face. “Better. So much better.”
“I knew it!”
In between her interruptions, I manage to give Quinn an extremely brief recap of the night before ending with Finn’s apology phone call and my hanging up on him.
“Good for you!” Quinn says, her voice approving. “Let him figure out his shit.”
“I think he has,” I say. “He sent me flowers today and asked me to dinner tomorrow.”
“Oh, shit.” Quinn breathed. “What are you going to wear?”
I sigh as I turn into my driveway. “I don’t know if I should go,” I say. “Is this a good idea?”
“Hell yes!”
I park my car and fish my cell phone out of my purse, switching the call over. I leave my heels in the car and walk barefoot into the house carrying my flowers. I take a moment to thank Margo for watching Liam again. I know she’s saving up for a car, so she’s grateful for the work, but I’m sure hanging out with an eight-year-old on a Friday night isn’t her idea of fun. After she leaves, I go back to my conversation with Quinn.
“I’m serious, Quinn. What if this ruins everything? I’ll have to find a new job. Hell, I’ll probably have to move. His family owns half the town.”
"Hannah, stop," Quinn says. "Just listen."
I stop speaking, waiting for whatever words of wisdom my best friend has to impart. "Okay," I say on a sigh. "Go."
"How do you feel about Finn? And don't give me that friendship bullshit," she says. "Give it some serious thought and tell me how you really feel about him. What is it you want out of this situation? Truly? Do you want things to go back to what they were? Pretend nothing ever happened? Because I'm sure Finn would give that a try if you asked him to. But I don't think that's what either of you really wants."
I open my mouth with an automatic response, then close it. "I—” I break off, thinking. How do I feel about Finn? It surprises me to realize I don't actually know. I've spent so many years pushing aside any feeling that wasn't professional or based in friendship. I never really let myself think about what could be or what I'd want if I could have it.
"I don't know," I say in a quiet voice. "I've always tried to ignore whatever I might feel for him. I didn't want to ruin what we had."
"Well," Quinn says. "I'd say the cat's out of the bag on that one. Maybe it's time to reevaluate your plan."
I think about her words, absently chewing my thumbnail. The butterflies in my stomach feel more like a flock of birds. Big ones.
"Listen, Hannah." Quinn is speaking again. "This is a chance to figure all that out. It's a chance you might never have taken on your own. But it's here now and you need to see where it leads. Go to dinner with Finn. Talk to him. Get to know him. Not as your boss or your friend, but as someone you might have a future with. If there's anything I've learned in life, it's that you should take chances when you can because they may not come along again. Life is short and you deserve to be
happy."
“You’re right.”
“Usually.”
I smile. "I love you, Quinn."
"I know," she says. "I'm pretty great."
We both laugh, lightening the mood as she'd intended. "I love you too," she says.
My voice serious now, I ask, "Quinn, is everything okay? You seem a little...I don't know. Are you okay?"
There's a brief moment of hesitation on her part before she replies. "I'm fine," she says. "Work has me stressed and I haven't been getting enough sleep because of it. That's all. As soon as I get a few days off, I'm coming to visit you and Liam. I could use a little relaxation."
I smile. reassured. "Good," I say. "Because I miss my best friend."
"Naturally," she says, a hint of that usual Quinn cockiness in her tone. “Tell me more about this Luke guy. He sounds yummy.”
I laugh and describe Luke for her, going into great detail.
“Damn,” she says. “How long is he in town for?”
“He’s leaving tomorrow, unfortunately.”
"Well, shit,” Quinn says. “I missed my window. Oh well.”
“There are other hot guys here in town,” I say. “Plenty of reason for you to come see me.”
“Yeah, and they all have the last name King,” she says with a laugh. “No thanks. Here’s my advice, if you want it. Get off the phone with me. Text Finn 'yes'. Take a hot bath. Get a good night’s sleep. Then tomorrow, put on something tastefully slutty and go get you some! Lord knows one of us should be getting laid."
I laugh again. “Goodbye, Quinn.”
“I want all the juicy details!” I hear her shout as I end the call.
I shake my head, still smiling. Quinn always finds a way to lighten my mood. I think about her words, reconsidering her questions. What do I feel for Finn? Lust, certainly. Affection too. He’s a great guy. I’ve known that for years. I know he’s great with Liam, he loves his family, and he’s an amazing boss. He’s fair and kind, but stern when he needs to be. And damn it all, he’s sexy as hell. Do I want to see where this thing might lead? I’m still not sure. Quinn has a point, though. I’ll never know unless I take a chance. The butterflies in my stomach feel more like pterodactyls now as I stare at Finn’s number on my phone screen.
I take in a deep breath, then blow it out. I repeat the action twice more. Okay, I can do this. It’s just dinner. No big deal. With shaking fingers, I type out the word yes. My finger hovers over the send button. I swallow hard against the nervous lump in my throat.
“Don’t be such a sissy,” I mutter. Then I click send and toss my cell onto the couch. I stare at it for several seconds as though it might bite me. I’m not sure what I expect to happen, but when the phone makes a tiny chirp sound alerting me of a text, I jump.
I chide myself on my stupidity and reach for the phone. On the screen is a text from Finn.
7:00? I’ll pick you up.
I chew on my lower lip as I type.
Me: I’ll see if Liam’s babysitter is available.
Finn: I’ve already asked Claire for a favor. That is, if you’re okay with her staying with Liam?
I shake my head. It seems he thought of everything.
Me: Rather confident, aren’t we?
Finn: Not in the least. I was a nervous wreck until you said yes. It was actually Claire’s idea. So, don’t give me too much credit.
I smile.
Me: A modest man, huh? Those are rare.
Finn: Like a unicorn.
Me: And the flowers? Were those from Claire too? Should I be thanking her?
Finn: Oh, no. Those were all me. I know how much you love peonies.
My eyes narrow, but I know I’m wearing a goofy grin. When had I told him I liked peonies?
Me: They’re beautiful. And thoughtful. Thank you.
Finn: I hope they made you smile.
I feel a blush stain my cheeks as I stare at my phone. Finn King is being charming. Toward me. He’s flirting with me over text messages. I shake my head when I remember what we were doing in his office just last night. You’d think a little flirting would be less thrilling after that, but it’s not. It’s sweet. It has me considering distant possibilities. I think about Quinn’s question from earlier. How do you feel about Finn? I’m still not one hundred percent certain. But I’d like to find out.
Chapter Seventeen
Hannah
The next day, Liam wakes me up early, excited for our trip to the beach. I pack our lunch and some sunscreen, and we hit the road. I want to stake out a good spot before the beach gets too crowded. Leaving early also means we’ll be home in plenty of time for me to get ready for my date with Finn. I catch myself wearing a silly grin and roll my eyes. Liam is in the backseat listing all the things he wants to do when we get to the beach.
“Sunscreen first,” I say, as I always do. I can’t see him, but I know he’s probably making a face.
“Yes, ma’am.”
We make it to the beach by midmorning and set up our blanket. Liam whips off his shirt as soon as we’re finished, determined to run headlong into the low waves, no matter how cold the water is. It’s not quite full summer, so I know the water still has some warming up to do. There are already plenty of people swimming in the cool water. Liam lets me slather him with sunscreen, bouncing impatiently the entire time. When I finish, he takes off toward the water, stopping just shy of the foaming waves and waiting for them to crash against his ankles. He lets out a little giggling squeal and turns back to look at me. The smile on his face is pure joy. I wish I could bottle the moment and keep it forever. Instead, I just watch him, taking it all in.
Liam and I stay at the beach for nearly 2 hours before the crowds start to get too heavy and there’s not so much room for him to run and play. We have lunch on our blanket and take a short walk to search for shells for our collection. We find a few keepers to take home with us before we make our way back to the car. No matter how well we rinse the sand off, I know I’m going to have half the beach in my backseat when we get home. But it’s worth it, just for the happiness on my son’s face. Liam’s eyes are drooping by the time we make it home. The beach never fails to sap his energy.
Normally, I’d let him nap for a while before dinner. But tonight, Claire is coming to babysit, and I don’t want him to be wide awake and not go to bed for her. At that thought, I remember all over again that I have a date with Finn tonight. A giddy sort of thrill runs through me. I get Liam into the shower and head to my closet to decide what to wear.
Claire arrives at 6:45 wearing pajamas and fuzzy slippers and carrying a bag from the local grocery store. She gives me a big smile when I open the door.
“Hey,” I say. “Thank you so much for staying with him. I’m sure you had plans for your Saturday night that didn’t include hanging out with an eight-year-old.”
“Are you kidding me? I get to hang out with Liam and watch movies in my pjs eating junk food. Is there a better way to spend a Saturday night?” She peers around behind me and waves. “Hey, kiddo! You ready for the best pajama party ever?”
She strides past me into the living room where Liam is already sitting on the couch watching one of his favorite movies. She plops down beside him and opens the grocery bag to show him the contents.
“Whoa!” He looks up at her with wide eyes and grins. Claire shoots a suspicious look my way.
“Shh. Don’t tell your mom,” she says in a stage whisper.
Liam glances at me, eyes solemn and nods at Claire. It’s all I can do not to laugh. I know she picked up candy and popcorn for their movie night because she called me earlier to ask what some of Liam’s favorites are. But Liam is enjoying the game, so I pretend not to notice their little conspiracy. Claire asks Liam about the movie he’s watching, and he excitedly fills her in on everything she’s missed so far.
The knock at the door sends a signal to those pesky butterflies in my stomach and they start fluttering again. I take a breath and let it out as I go to answer it. Fr
om the corner of my eye, I see Claire watching me. I do my best to ignore my audience. When I open the door, Finn is standing there looking as handsome as he always does. His gaze takes me in, moving from my eyes down the length of my body and back to my face.
“You look incredible,” he murmurs in a voice only I can hear.
I blush immediately, not used to those types of compliments from him. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
He’s dressed down compared to his normal work attire. I like this casual side of him that I rarely get to see. At work, he’s usually in slacks and a dress shirt or even a suit and tie. Tonight though, he’s wearing jeans that fit him just right and a charcoal shirt that hugs his broad shoulders and makes me remember just what’s hidden underneath. Before he accuses me of staring at him, I motion for him to come inside.
“I just need to get my purse.”
Finn follows me inside, trailing a few feet behind me. I grab my purse where it hangs on the back of a chair in the kitchen. When I turn back, I see that Finn is no longer behind me. Instead, he’s standing near the entrance to the living room trying to engage Liam in conversation. Trying, because Liam is now fully invested in the movie he’s watching as well as with Claire. I smile and walk over to plant a kiss on Liam’s head. He tolerates the affection but doesn’t seem to care that I’m leaving for the evening.
