by C Bradley
“Dude, that was terrible,” Micah laughs at Brody’s other side, giving him a half bro-hug.
“Eh, coping mechanisms.” Brody’s half smile makes my heart ache. “Thank you all for coming. I know my parents would appreciate your time, as much as Nina and I do.”
Brody interlaces our fingers, as he stares down at me, tugging on my hand to garner my attention. When his sad eyes land on mine, I squeeze his hand tightly in mine and smile softly offering strength.
“I should have told you, but…” his words trail off, as he looks away, hiding his glassy eyes from his father’s employees.
I nod, trying to convey understanding, as I rise to meet him. Grasping his chin with my thumb and forefinger, I turn his face to mine. “Today, I’ve got you.” I speak quietly. “You’re going to need me, and I’m here. However, you’re right. You should have told me, like months ago.”
“Hannah,” Brody sighs and squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry.”
“I know, Brody.” I offer a tight smile and nod towards Nina. “She needs you.”
“I need you. Please come sit with me.”
“Okay, I’ve got you.”
“Hannah,” He squeezes our interlaced fingers, before pulling me into a crushing embrace. “Thank you, baby.”
My steps stutter, causing Brody to pull me into him, as the eyes of hundreds lock onto us. Hundreds.
“I meant it when I said that we have a very small family,” he explains, as we take our seats next to Nina, Addison, and Micah. “But we have an extended family of people throughout the community. People that have been friends with my parents, since they started their business thirty plus years ago.”
“I can see that.”
“Hopefully this ends quickly.” A grimace replaces Brody’s smile, as “You Raise Me Up” by Westlife begins to play, garnering the attention of all in attendance.
Three different speakers contribute to the memorials of Mr. and Mrs. Lucas, before Nina scoots past us in the aisle and makes her way towards the stage. Brody’s arm wraps around my shoulder, and I reach up for his hand interlocking our fingers, as music begins to filter through the room, and the screen on the wall ahead of us fills with tiny images and the words “Don’t worry ‘bout me.”
“Mom always told me this was her favorite song. Anytime she missed someone who’d passed before her, it provided a sense of peace and calming to her weary soul. So today, I want to offer that to all of you. Forgive me in advance, if I cannot make it through, it’s a bit of a struggle. Thank you all for coming, and for sharing your day and your lives with our parents. They were truly blessed, as we are today.”
Nina’s voice quivers on her words just before the music prompts the start of the song, but she carries out the task of singing “Sissy’s Song” by Alan Jackson flawlessly. The melody pours from her, as photos splash on the screen, offering those in attendance a visual of the full life the Lucas’ lived with not only their immediate family, but their friends and church family.
Tears fall in quick succession down my face; Brody’s body is leaning entirely against mine, as I hold his hand with my left and rub his thigh with my right. But it’s not until I sneak a glance at his face, do I fully grasp his level of loss. His face is streaked with tears, his breathing is rugged, and his face is marred with devastation.
The pastor recites the same scripture I recall at Audrey James’ service just a few years ago. A scripture that is supposed to act as a balm to the wounded hearts, a scripture that is to give faith and hope that those gone are no longer in suffering, and we here on earth should continue to live.
While I listen to the words being offered, I can’t help but think back to the photos displayed just moments before. I swear I saw some of my childhood in them as well. I’m certain I’m mistaken, because as far as I know, we lived nowhere near one another, then again, my certainties are a bit off lately.
Brody squeezes and then releases my hand, removing his arm from around me, as I take stock in everyone beginning to stand. The memorial service concludes, and I stay behind with Micah, as Brody and Nina are ushered to the back and smothered with condolences and well wishes from the attendees.
“Han, I need to get going. I have to finish up some paperwork for Brody and Nina.” Micah says, as he pushes off the wall we’ve been holding up with Addison.
“Micah, thank you again for helping them out. I know they appreciate it.” Addison places a chaste kiss to Micah’s freshly shaven cheek and turns towards me. “Hannah, I can take you over to the house. I’m sure B would appreciate the company once they are done here.”
Nodding in agreement, I hug Micah goodbye. Today must have been difficult for him as well, reliving certain moments he works very hard at stuffing away.
Spinning my chair around, I kick my feet up onto the polished mahogany bar that occupies one quarter of the downstairs man cave that my father and I hand built. The stench of lemon wood polish mixed with stale whiskey and cigar smoke still linger.
“No Micah, I haven’t decided what to do with my parent’s place yet. I have some great childhood memories here. I’m not sure if I want to sell it or keep it. Nina doesn’t want it, or at least not at the moment.” I say aloud into the speakerphone of my cell before my attention is pulled towards the far corner of the room.
My lips curve, as I notice the sexy black heels wrapping around her ankles come into view step by step, offering the sight of her toned, sun-kissed legs. The black dress highlights her hourglass figure so perfectly, while still maintaining an appropriate level of conservatism.
I’ve always been one to appreciate a woman’s assets, and Hannah’s are overly generous. This woman is incredibly sexy, and I have no problem reminding her daily of my attraction to her. Nevertheless, when she reaches the bottom of the stairs, I can tell by the uneasy smile on her face that it’s time to talk.
As gorgeous as Hannah is, my favorite curve on her body is undoubtedly her smile, and I intend to do everything in my power to ensure it’s on her face. Our eyes lock, as she makes her way towards me. I can see compassion and irritation swirling with uncertainty in her eyes. Today she received affirmation that my family owns the corporation that employs her, and I failed to be open about that very vital piece of information from the get go. She never hid the importance of her job, or the passion she held for her work ethic to achieve the unattainable standards people set before her.
Hannah’s ignited a fire deep inside the pit of my stomach that I’ve never felt. A constant longing to be near her, mixing with the primal need to be inside of her. She tips my chin up with her index finger, placing a soft kiss across my lips before mouthing, “Hey.”
“Hey, beautiful. Micah and I are just going over some of the terms of the will,” I explain, as I tilt my hand holding my iPhone in her direction. “Anything to say to your bestie?” I ask, smirking when she takes the phone from my hand.
“Leave my boyfriend alone. He needs to come eat dinner. I’m sure you can wrap up this call quickly, Mr. James.” Her timbre intrigues me. I’ve never watched her work, but this is professional Hannah standing in my presence.
“Hey, I just need ten more minutes,” Micah argues, but his tone inflects more humor than seriousness.
“Fine. What’d you get me for my birthday, darling best friend of mine?” She teases in countenance to his need of more time.
“Hannah, your birthday isn’t for a few more weeks. I’ve got plenty of time to procrastinate and rush out last minute to buy something.” He fires back, and her facial expression changes from playful to annoyed.
“Just have your secretary buy me that new Michael Kors bag, the red tote style with the matching wallet. We both know she does all your shopping.” She smirks, before crossing her legs at the ankle, turning her stool to face me.
Micah chuckles loudly and counters, “I thought Brody would have reigned you in by now, Banana. You don’t need my gifts anymore. Your boyfriend can take care of all your extravagant needs.”
&n
bsp; She glances at me; her softened features search mine for a better explanation of Micah’s words. Much to my dismay, she’s likely assessing the puzzle pieces she’s been putting together in that beautiful head of hers.
Letting out a deep sigh I attempt to explain, “Nina and I have just inherited a large sum in liquid assets, as well as many other responsibilities, which includes my parent’s life insurance policies and businesses.”
“Brody, I’m not dating you for money or to advance in my professional career! Micah, how dare you insinuate that I’m that type of person. The kind of person I’ve protected myself from being labeled my entire life.” Hannah’s neck and cheeks flush into a deep red pigmentation, as her breathing accelerates.
“Hannah,” Micah attempts, but she’s now staring at me with an expression that I don’t quite understand. Her eyes appear sad, her smile long since replaced by a frown, and she begins to fidget in her seat.
“We also inherited this house, and my parent’s consulting firm Jackson Lucas Corporation,” I clear my throat free of emotion and wait for impact.
Her mouth drops open. “You now OWN the corporation that I work for? How did this never come up? How have we never discussed anything significant in your entire fucking life, until right now? Do you understand the position I’m now in? Are you fucking kidding me!?” She shouts and rushes to her feet.
“Well, this sounds to have gone over well. I told you that you should’ve told her sooner. Addison warned you, too.” Micah’s voice drops an octave, before disconnecting the call.
Hannah stares at me, waiting for a response.
“Brody,” she sighs, her voice heavy with concern. “Did you even think this through? Did you ever think what if I want to end this, or what if you want to end this? I bet this scenario would play out just fucking fine! This is my livelihood. My fucking career!”
“NO!” I bellow. “I didn’t think over every goddamned scenario. Then again, I didn’t think my parents would be in a catastrophic accident in the middle of the motherfucking day with not a goddamn cloud in the sky! So, pardon me for not finding the fact that you work for my parent’s consulting firm a big fucking deal. I never in a million years thought this scenario would need addressed.”
She gasps, her hands clenched on top of the counter top, and her body posed for running.
“I’m going for a walk.”
“Hannah,” I call out to her back.
“Brody, I need some time to figure this out. Do not follow me. Just give me some fucking space.” Once she reaches the top of the staircase, she turns to me, and the sadness in her eyes matches my aching heart. “Nina and Addison are ready to eat dinner and want you up there with them.”
“Micah, I need you to pick me up, now.” I seethe into the phone, after storming out of Brody’s childhood home. “If you can’t get me, I’ll uber.”
“Give me twenty, and I’ll be there. Just calm down.” His calm tone only ignites my frustration, as I pace the patio just outside the front door to the estate. “You’re freaking out and being irrational.”
“Don’t you dare, Micah Christopher James. You’re in the same shit boat as he is!” I blather angrily.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way.”
Once the call ends, I quietly make my way into the house and up into Brody’s room to gather my purse and bag that contains a change of clothes and shoes. With my possessions in tow, I quickly descend the staircase and slip back out of the front door, planting my butt on the stoop, until Micah arrives.
“Have you eaten,” Micah asks as soon as I’m buckled into his car. How can he act as if this is no big deal? He has been keeping this from me just as Brody has.
“Yes,” I lie and rest my head back against the headrest. Everyone else in my life seems to talk out of his or her ass, so I might as well do it too.
How could I have not derived this possibility and connect the dots, knowing Brody’s last name. It’s my job to be a people person. To look up and investigate new hires and potential people that can influence business. Am I seriously that dense? Am I that in over my head emotionally to throw out all rationality? Clearly, I was.
The trip from the Lucas’ estate to my apartment is a long thirty-minute commute, which is ended by Micah inviting himself in. Sure, I’d love company. Come on in, and please join me. Said anyone, except me this evening.
“Hannah, without the intention of making you angry or further upsetting you, I think I need to address the elephant in the room.”
I stare blankly at him, waiting for him to continue his tirade of my do’s and don’ts per his non-subjective outlook.
“I think Brody is dumping his emotions into this relationship with you. I mean he all but cut you out when his parents died. Then he did another 180 and latched on, as if the world was going to end if you weren’t near. He’s not...” Micah trails off, as his cellphone pings indicating an incoming text. “He’s not stable right now. He isn’t in the right headspace. He’s using you for whatever he needs at the moment. He’ll discard you just like the other flock of locales once he moves into the next phase of mourning.”
“Micah,” I begin, saying his name in a faux calm. “With all due respect, fuck off.”
“Hannah Grace, how’s it going to look with the HR director bagging the CEO in midst of a tragic accident, claiming both the lives of local marketing firm tycoons.”
“Micah, I love you, but this is not your business.” I grit out, as I remove my heels.
“I’m just trying to protect you.”
“When or if I need your protection, I’ll let you know. Until then, stay the hell out of my love life.” I scream out in frustration. “You aren’t my daddy, you aren’t my boyfriend, and frankly, I’m really close to revoking your best friend card at the moment, so back the fuck off!”
“I’m just trying to help put a little perspective on things. You and I both know you’re irrational, when you let your emotions overrule your logic.”
What the fuck?
“Micah, it’s time for you to go.”
“Hannah,” he refutes.
“Everyone is irrational when their emotions overrule logic. I’m about to be a whole lot of irrational on your ass, if you don’t go.”
Once the latch of the front door clicks, silence settles over my apartment. The place I typically find solace, now only brings me anxiety and stress. Locking the deadbolt, I slowly undress myself, leaving a trail of clothes in my wake on my way to my trusty bathtub. Turning the nozzle to almost all hot, I search for the eucalyptus oil and squeeze in a few drops. Time to relax and forget all the bullshit for a while.
Performance shorts. Check.
Sports bra. Check.
Running sneakers. Check.
Earbuds, shit where are those? Searching frantically for my wireless earbuds, so I can run out the remaining stress that my long-lasting bath didn’t reduce, I smack my arm on the edge on the table then my shin on the leg.
Freaking klutz. Damn, that’s gonna leave a mark.
Ten minutes later, I find my earbuds and synchronize them up to my iPhone, currently in an airplane mode state, as I ignore the outside world. Running down the opposite side stairwell to avoid the potential run in with Brody, Nina, Addison, or even Micah, I turn left away from my opposite route and begin a full press run, reconsidering the dialogue over the course of events these past few days.
Brody’s parents died. Brody Lucas, my boyfriend, now owns the firm that employs me. Micah went apeshit over our entire relationship. Why didn’t he care from the very beginning? Why is it a big deal now? But Micah told Brody he should’ve told me, so how long did he know that Brody was the Lucas in JLC? Why does it matter? Does any of this matter?
Who cares, as long as Brody knows I’ve never been with him for anything but the true, honest connection we share. So again, why does it matter? I love him. I’m in love with this mess of a man who lost his parents, and I flip out because he’s loaded and owns the company that employs me.
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Holy shit! I’m in love with Brody.
I immediately halt my forward moving progress, causing the sensation of my organs to ricochet against the walls of my body cavity. Ouch. Turning abruptly, I trip over my own foot and stumble into the roadway, nearly being ran over by a SUV speeding by.
“Oh shit,” I grumble, as a regain my balance against the blaring horns of the impeded traffic and make my way back to my apartment complex with extreme awareness. I scan the parking lot for Brody’s truck, but come up empty, but I do recognize Addison’s car in his space.
“Hey,” I hear her shout over Imagine Dragons still booming into my ears, and I raise my eyes to meet her greenish-brown ones. “I know you’re upset about the bomb dropped on you,” she begins, once I remove the buds from my ears. “But Hannah, Brody needs you. You’re his calm, and I’m scared.”
Pulling my brows inwardly, as I try to comprehend Addison’s words, I seek clarification. “What? Why are you scared? He’s grieving. It’s a process,” I explain, as I would to a staff member who’s endured a loss.
“He came up for dinner, and then you left without a word. His parents are gone now, and Nina is radio silent, watching childhood movies. I can’t get him to listen to me let alone put down the bottle of scotch.”
“Addison,” I sigh. “He hid his life and family from me.”
“Jesus, no he didn’t. Not intentionally at least. Yeah, maybe he didn’t say, ‘Hey, the guy that signs your paycheck is my daddy and should anything happen to him, I’ll be your boss.’ However, is it that big of a deal that the Lucas’ own the corporation you work at? I mean file a fucking acknowledgment and figure it out.”
“It’s not that easy, Addison. I might as well stamp “slept my way to the top” on my forehead, if I ever get another promotion.” I growl, as my anger brews.
“Ha! Since when did you become the girl that gives a shit about people and their opinions? From the time we met, and all that Micah has said, and trust me he talks about you a whole fucking ton, is that you’ve never been that girl.”
