The phone rang once, then twice. "Hello."
"Regan, my friend!"
"What the hell did you do?"
"Nothing. Nothing."
"What the fuck did you do?"
"Hannah's back."
"That's great! I'm so happy you finally came to your senses."
"No. It's not like that. Summer hired her—I mean, I hired her."
"Well, which is it? Did you or Summer hire her?"
"Fuck! I did."
He chuckled.
"Why the fuck are you laughing?"
"It's just funny. The one woman you tried your best to run from, found her way back to you."
"It's not like that, Regan."
"Anyway, what do you want?"
"I need advice."
"You don’t want my advice. You know my advice."
"Don't tell me—"
"Yes. Marry that girl. You've loved her since college."
"I have not loved her since college."
"Then why does she make you act like this? No woman has ever made you act like this. You turn to fucking mush when Hannah is around."
"Fuck that!"
"You can fuck that all you want. But, personally, I love Hannah. She's family, and I would love her to get to know Cher. Ever since you left her, I haven’t been able to get ahold of her."
"Why not?"
"Maybe she's mad at you, and at me 'cause I remind her of you, asshole."
"Why do I have to be the asshole?"
"Because you are! You left her high and dry and left her a damn note. Dick move if I ever heard one."
"You're supposed to be my friend."
"I am being your friend by telling you the truth. Hannah is the girl for you. Open your goddam eyes."
"I don’t even know why I called you."
He laughed. "I don’t know either. Ever since I fell for Cher, I've never been happier, and I wanna see you happy. Hannah makes you happy."
"It's been a year."
"So."
"So, a year is a long time."
"Not when love is involved. Did you feel any different when you saw her?"
"No, she made me just as—wait a minute! It's not love. I don’t love her, Regan."
"Seems like you're trying really hard to prove that to yourself."
"Fuck!"
"Well, I'd like to see her again. Call me when you get your shit together so we can double."
"Double? I'm not into doubling, unless it's two dames and me."
"I'm hanging up now."
"Regan."
"I have class. What else could you possibly want to talk about?"
"Should I fire her?"
"Don't you dare fire her. I swear, Ryder, if you—"
"Fine, fine. I won't fire her."
He hung up the phone without another word. I looked at the receiver, shaking my head. "Son of a bitch," I said, slamming the hard, black, plastic down.
There was no way I could fire her. I didn’t have the cause. I'd have to see it through and hope she gave me a reason to let her go. I pressed my hands to my face, exhaling deeply into my palms while images of Hannah and our last morning together knocked around in my brain.
She was so angry that morning. Nothing I said would calm her—none of my usual one-liners, or reasons why we should keep things the way they were. I wanted my women, and I wanted her at home. Selfish, I know. I didn’t want anything to change. I was happy with our Thursday night pot roast dinner date and our afternoon lunches. Why couldn't she just be happy with the way things were? She was safer that way, and so was I. But that morning—God—that morning. I can't even remember the girl's name who started the whole mess. Hannah just wouldn’t let it go, and I'm not built to deal with those kinds of feelings—women are.
Holding her in my arms while trying to calm her down, I couldn’t help but breathe in her soft scent, my body urging me to slam her against a wall and kiss her like she deserved to be kissed. But she was my best friend, and if I lost her to sex or my inability to commit to a real relationship, I'd never forgive myself.
Thinking about it now, that's exactly what happened. I lost her to my fear of commitment—my fear of the unknown. I wasn’t the Romeo in the bunch, that'd always been Regan. I was the lone wolf—the guy you could count on to bring a new woman to every holiday party.
I wasn’t boasting; it was just a matter of fact. Dropping my hands from my face, I stood from my chair and walked to the window. The sun beating against the concrete rooftops and satellite dishes created a dazzling light show which always calmed me. It was one of the reasons I bought the entire floor.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
"Yes."
The knob turned, and the door creaked open. "It's lunchtime. Do you want me to order your usual?" Summer asked.
I shook my head.
"It's really not that bad, you know?"
"You don't know what happened."
"Well, of course not. But it couldn’t be so bad that you weren’t willing to hire her, and she wasn’t willing to accept."
"It's not that simple."
"Men always say that. When sometimes—it just is."
"I don’t wanna talk about it, Summer."
"Yeah, seems to be your M.O. in life."
I glared at her, letting her know she'd overstepped. Although she really didn’t have boundaries, Hannah was going to have to be one of them. Her eyes widened as she shrunk behind the door, closing it as she disappeared. I crossed my arms and shifted my gaze back out the window, searching for some calm in my current storm.
HANNAH
"Jesus, Almighty!" I held out my arm, trying my best to flag down a cab, needing to get across town and back in time to grab his dinner and deliver it.
The stream of cars whizzed by me without the slightest tap of a brake pedal, and I knew if I didn’t get someone to stop I wasn’t going to make it. I was going to lose the damn job on the first day. A record—even for me.
Up ahead, I spied a parked cab with its service light off. I clutched tightly onto my purse and sprinted over, sticking my head into the open passenger window, scaring the middle-aged, bearded man half to death.
"Can I get a ride, please? I'm running so late, and I can't lose this job." I threw out the saddest face I could muster and waited for his reply.
He was holding a sandwich in one hand and a soda can in the other, and I knew I was interrupting his lunch.
"Please?" I begged again.
I don't know if it was the sad look on my face or the desperation in my voice, but he put his sandwich back in the small, brown paper bag sitting in the passenger seat and tossed his head back, motioning me to get in.
I shot him a wink and jumped into the back before he had a chance to change his mind. "Simon's Dry Cleaning, please."
"All the way on the other side of town?"
"Yup."
"You know how much that's gonna cost with the traffic right now?"
"I have a company credit card."
From the rearview mirror, I could see his eyes light up, like a kid getting a puppy on Christmas morning.
"Well, alright then," he said, throwing the car into drive.
My head snapped to the right as he slammed on the gas pedal, merging into the thick traffic where we slowed to a snail's pace. I looked at my phone, noting the minutes ticking by. Every passing second was an inch closer to having to move back to my parents' house. My stomach began to churn as my mother's voice whined in the back of my head.
"Is there any way to get there a little faster? A side street? A shortcut only cabbies know about?"
He glanced up at the rearview mirror, his eyes smiling back at me. "Hold on to your skirt, doll."
He made a sharp left, cutting off a delivery truck just about to pass us. My stomach jumped into my throat as I gripped onto the door handle for dear life. Another sharp left in front of a small hatchback, and we found ourselves in a deserted alley.
I had to admit, thoug
hts of the evening news touting serial killers posing as normal, everyday people ran through my mind. Hopefully, I wouldn’t be tonight's headline.
"Ready?" he asked, slamming his foot on the gas.
I fell back in my seat as building after building zipped by my window. Sweat began to bead on my forehead as he turned right onto the next street. I closed my eyes and waited for an impending crash, but after a few minutes of turning right then left, then right again, the cab slowed to a normal speed for the next thirty minutes.
"Are you okay back there?"
"I think so, but I think I left my spleen a few streets back."
"Yeah, that happens a lot. Be careful what you ask for." He chuckled as he slowed the cab to a stop. "Here you go."
"Seriously? That trip was supposed to be an hour with all this traffic."
He shrugged.
"Can you wait for me? I'll pay for the time."
He tapped on his meter, wearing an impish smile. "Sure can."
I slid out of the cab and ran through the double glass doors of the dry cleaning shop. I smiled at the old, wrinkled woman standing behind the counter, reading a tattered romance novel.
She laid it down on the counter with the pages still opened to where she left off. "Can I help you, darling?"
"I'm here for Ryder Thorne's dry cleaning."
"Where is Crystal?"
"Crystal?" I looked up from my purse.
She smiled. "Did she quit or get fired?"
"Oh! The last assistant, you mean? I think she quit."
"Good for her. The last few got fired. That Ryder—he's a handsome fellow, but some woman hurt that man so deep—" She shook her head.
"Why did she have to hurt him? How do you know it wasn’t the other way around?"
"No man is that cynical unless he's been hurt by a woman. Trust me, darling, I've been around the block a couple of times."
"She's been around the block more than a couple," a heavy voice shouted from the back.
"Shut up, Earl."
"No, you shut up, Lola!"
She laughed. "That's Earl. He's an asshole. A cynical one."
"Who hurt him?"
"Me, of course!" She winked at me as she turned and walked through a curtain meant to be a door.
I could still hear them yelling back and forth while the minutes ticked by. Glancing over my shoulder to the cabbie, I caught him eating his sandwich and drinking his can of soda. I felt bad I'd ruined his lunch, but rent was calling, and it wasn’t content to just leave a message.
"Here you go, darling," Lola said, walking out from behind the curtain, holding two black garment bags.
"No plastic?"
"Not for Mr. Thorne."
"He certainly is different," I said, handing her the company card.
She punched a couple of buttons then swiped the card through the register. "He sure is."
I grabbed the two bags and flung it over my shoulder, holding out my hand to retrieve my card and receipt.
"You think you're gonna be able to tame that beast?"
"Beast?"
"Mr. Thorne, of course."
I laughed as I stuck the card and receipt in my purse. "I don’t think a dragon tamer would have any luck with that man. Thank you so much."
"Hope I see you next week, honey."
"Me too." I turned and walked through the door to the awaiting cab.
I hopped in, laying the garment bags gently across my lap. "Ready?"
He nodded, trying to chew the last bite of his sandwich as he held up his index finger.
"Take your time. My CPR card is not up to date." I chuckled.
He stuck the key in the ignition and started the cab. "Where to?"
"I need to get to Richie's Diner."
"I love that place," he said, easing out into traffic.
"Me too. I haven't eaten there in a while, though."
"Why not?"
"Too many memories," I said, looking out the window.
"You don’t have to say anymore. I have a couple of those places, too."
The buildings zipped by as he weaved in and out of traffic. Suddenly, my body was thrust forward, saved from death by my seatbelt. The cab came to a complete stop amidst a sea of cars.
"What happened?"
"Looks like there's an accident up ahead."
"Oh, no!"
"It's gridlock."
"Is there another shortcut?"
"I can't even get over to the next lane, let alone the alley."
I pulled my card from my purse. "Here charge me what I owe you. I'm gonna have to walk, or I'll be late."
"Are you sure?" he asked, taking the card from my hand.
I shook my head. "I'm gonna have to be."
He handed me back my card which I shoved directly into my purse. Slowly, I pushed the door open, as to not hit the car in the next lane. Carefully, I placed the garment bags over my arm before closing the door. I waved at him as I went on my way. There was no way I was going to make it across town, holding the two bags, to pick up his dinner.
I pulled out my phone to call Summer, preparing myself for the hellfire she was going to rain down on me for fucking up so badly on my first day. Staring at the phone, I decided I was going to do what I needed to get Ryder his dinner before 4:30. The pressure wasn’t going to get the best of me, and neither was Ryder.
Sliding the phone back in my purse, I took in a deep breath and started my trudge down the street toward Richie's.
Chapter Five
RYDER
"Where the fuck is she? I said four fucking thirty."
I paced around my apartment, letting my anger toward Summer grow. I knew it wasn't going to work out, and I couldn’t believe I let her talk me into hiring Hannah. I picked up the phone to call Summer when a loud, frantic knock sounded from behind.
Setting the phone down on the coffee table, I walked to the door and flung it open, my eyes settling on a half out of breath Hannah. Her hair was a mess like she'd just run through a hurricane, while beads of sweat cascaded down her forehead.
"What the hell happened to you?"
"I had to run."
I stepped back, allowing her to walk in. "Set the food on the counter and hang the clothes in the living room closet." Crossing my arms, I watched as she silently followed my orders. "What do you mean you ran?"
"There was an accident, so the cab had to let me out near the dry cleaners—"
"You ran from the dry cleaners?"
"I didn’t run, really. I walked fast from the dry cleaners to Richie's, but from Richie's to here, I definitely would call that running."
"Why didn't you call Summer to send a car?"
She turned and glared at me. "That was an option?"
"I always have options. You should know that," I said as I brushed by her.
"Pfft…"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." Her eyes widened as she backed away. "I'm gonna head home. I'll see you in the office tomorrow."
"How are you gonna get home?"
"Walking, of course."
"That's too far, and you won't get home until after dark."
She shrugged. "Yeah, well, those are the breaks, aren't they?"
No matter how angry I was, I wasn’t going to let her walk home in the dark. "I'll have my car take you home."
She raised her palm to me. "No, I'm okay. Thank you, though."
"I don't remember asking."
She stopped midway to the door. "You can't tell me how to get home."
"I seem to remember telling you this morning that you were my assistant twenty-four hours a day. So, technically, you're still on the clock, and I can tell you whatever I want."
She clenched her fists as she looked down at her feet. It was something she did when she didn’t want me to see how mad she was at me. I used to think it was cute, but now, I couldn’t see past my own issues with the situation we'd found ourselves in.
I pulled out a dining room chair. "Have a
seat and wait for my driver."
I watched as her ire waned and defeat washed over her. Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath, and her shoulders slumped forward.
"Fine," she said, moving toward the chair.
"And you can lose the attitude."
"Oh, you're in charge of that now, too?"
I slid her chair toward the table as soon as she sat down. "You should already know."
"Whatever, Ryder," she murmured under her breath.
"Drink?"
"No."
"You want some of this food until he gets here?"
"No."
"Are you gonna say anything other than no?"
She looked away. "No."
"Fine, I'll enjoy it all on my own." I sat down across from her, opening the familiar green and white bag from Richie's.
HANNAH
The aroma from inside the bag wafted out, bringing back memories of our Monday night dinners. I slacked my jaw, trying to breathe through my mouth instead of my nose, not wanting to reminisce about those days, especially not with him sitting right in front of me—enticing me with his captivating eyes.
"What have you been up to?" he asked, pulling out the small box filled with lasagna.
"Nothing much, just the usual."
"Are you seeing anyone?"
My eyes narrowed. "How is that any of your business?"
"It's not. Just asking."
"Well, I'd appreciate if you didn't. This is a strictly business relationship. Nothing more."
"Nothing more, huh?"
I looked at him in disbelief and shook my head. "What are you doing? You took off and left a fucking note, remember?"
"Yes, Hannah, I do remember."
"So you have no right to play with my mind, and ask me these inappropriate questions."
He glared at me, stabbing his fork into the steaming layers or pasta and meat. "Play with your mind?"
I pulled away from his hard stare. "Just let me be," I whispered.
He stood from the chair and picked up the box of food, tossing it into the trash before walking into the living room. I stayed seated, not knowing whether or not it was an invitation to leave.
The minutes ticked by as the silence fed my anxiety. He'd been sitting on the white, leather couch, scrolling through his phone for what seemed like eons, not paying any attention to me.
Tempt Me: A Second Chance Billionaire Romance (Me Series Book 2) Page 3
