by Cat Carmine
Ally pulls her chair up to the table and opens up a notebook she’d been working in earlier.
“I don’t know if this is the best time to talk to you about this,” she says hesitantly. “But maybe there is no good time, so…”
“Just tell me,” I snap, more brusquely than I mean to. I pause my stirring and turn to face her. “I’m sorry. What’s up?”
“Well, I’ve been working on the math.” She bites her lip and looks down at the notebook. “If we keep spending as we currently do, we can make it for about three months on our savings. If we cut back significantly on miscellaneous expenses, cut out cable and maybe the landline, drop down to one shared cell phone, we could probably do about six.”
I turn back to the batter, stirring it distractedly. My stomach is twisting into knots. “That’s it?”
“Yup.”
“Damn.”
Tears start to prick my eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I fucked everything up. You must hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” Ally says immediately. “Was it the best idea to sleep with your boss? Maybe not. But you’ve been working so hard for so long — you gave up so much to help me. I don’t blame you for wanting to follow your heart for once. I just wish it had worked out better.”
I give a bitter laugh. “Yeah, me too.”
I start pouring the batter into the lined muffin tins while Ally and I discuss other cost-saving measures. Hopefully it won’t come to that — I have enough retail experience that I’m really hoping I can land something in the next few weeks — but it feels good to have a plan nonetheless. And it feels good to be working on with Ally, as a team.
I’m just throwing the muffin tins into the oven when the door buzzes.
Ally and I look at each other.
“Are you expecting anyone?” I ask her.
She raises her eyebrows. “Who would I be expecting?” she says sarcastically. “Are you?”
“Same,” I say, equally sarcastically. “Do you mind getting it? I’m going to rinse out these bowls.”
“Sure.” She heads over to the door and hits the intercom button. It’s so loud that I can hear it crackle even from in the kitchen.
“Hello?” Ally says, into the speaker.
“It’s Trent.” Even through the intercom the voice is unmistakable. My stomach does a triple summersault. “Is Hannah there?”
Ally looks over at me, eyes wide. “Should I let him up?”
“No!” I shake my head frantically.
She turns back to the intercom. “She’s not here right now, Trent, sorry.”
There’s a pause and then another crackle. “You left the intercom on. I heard you ask her if you should let me up.”
Ally looks at me again, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.
I throw my hands up. “Fine. I’ll tell him in person that I don’t want to talk to him.”
There’s another crackle. “I heard that too,” Trent says.
Instead of replying, Ally just hits the buzzer, which unlocks the door downstairs. A couple of very short minutes later, there’s a knock on our apartment door.
By this time my stomach has twisted itself into a mess of knots. Ally heads to her bedroom to give us some privacy, and I take a deep breath and pull open the front door.
I suck in my breath as soon as I see him. He looks as handsome as ever. He must have come from work because he’s wearing a black suit, a crisp white button-down, and a red striped tie. His presence in my doorway makes my legs feel weak, and there’s a small, weak part of me that wants to simply throw myself into his arms and let him kiss all of this heartache away.
His face brightens as soon as he sees me, but it doesn’t hide the fact that his eyes have dark circles around them, and lines crease the sides of his mouth.
To be perfectly honest, he looks as bad as I feel. The thought makes me feel strangely satisfied and also sad as hell.
“What do you want?” I ask, folding my arms. I refuse to let my mushy heart get the better of me. I need to be strong.
“I’ve been trying to call you.”
“I know.”
“I wanted to apologize. For all of it. For Lara, for not believing you about the Post thing, for letting you lose your job after I promised you you wouldn’t.”
“That’s a long list of things, Trent. Why should I forgive you for any of them?”
It’s so hard to stand there in front of him, but I force myself to do it. I force myself to stay strong even though the heat of his body across from me is making me feel wobbly. It’s amazing I can keep breathing when he’s around, because he seems to just burn away all the oxygen in the room.
“Because I’m an idiot,” he says, with a half grin. “But at least I know it?”
I find I’m smiling a little despite myself. I don’t want to be charmed by him. I don’t. But he makes it so damn difficult.
“You don’t have to believe me,” he says. “But I came to give you this.” He pulls a slick notecard out of the pocket of his suit jacket and hands it to me.
“What is this?” I don’t make any motion to take it from him.
“It’s an invitation,” he says. “Take it.”
My heart is hammering in my throat as I slowly unfold my arms and reach out to take the card he’s holding. Our fingers briefly touch and a jolt of equal parts lust and heartache go coursing through me.
I busy myself by looking at the invitation, so that I don’t have to look at him. I read the text in confusion.
“A launch party? You already had the Loft & Barn launch for this season.”
“We’re having another one.”
“Why?”
“Just come and you’ll see.”
I hold the invitation gingerly, as if it might turn to dust in my hands. Trent sees my hesitation.
“You don’t have to be my date or anything. Just come. And bring Ally. There’s something I want her to see too.”
Now I look up in interest. Something he wants Ally to see?
“Ah, see, now you’re intrigued.” Trent grins, and the sight of it sets my heart to flutter again.
“Okay,” I admit. “I’m a little intrigued.”
“Good. That means you’re more likely to come, right?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Good. But don’t think too hard, okay? Go with your heart on this one.”
With that, he leans in and lets his lips graze against mine. I’m too surprised to push him away and instead I let his lips linger there, soft against me, so perfect and right and messy and complicated.
He pulls away before I can decide whether or not I want to push him away. He disappears down the hallway towards the elevator and I stand there in the doorway, touching my lips and wondering what the hell I’m going to do now.
46
Hannah
“Are you sure you want to go?” Ally is clutching her purse and looking at me nervously.
“Of course.”
“It’s just … you kind of look like you might throw up.”
Truthfully, I kinda feel like I might throw up. But after Trent had shown up at our apartment the other day with an invitation to a second Loft & Barn launch party, my curiosity had gotten the better of me. I had to know what he was doing.
Plus, as soon as I told Ally about the invitation, I saw the way her eyes lit up. I’ve already fucked things up for both of us, I figure the least I can do is let her have the fun of attending a real Loft & Barn party.
Which is why we’re currently waiting in our living room, watching out the window for the ride Trent arranged to have pick us up.
I don’t know what the dress code is, but I refuse to wear that gold dress again. This time I’m wearing one of my own dresses, a deep purple wrap dress that shows off my curves. I normally found it a bit too sexy for regular wear, but there’s a part of me that wants to make Trent eat his heart out tonight. I want him to see what he’s missing.
I don’t kno
w if it will work — or if I even really want it to — but it makes me feel better to know I look good.
“Well, we can just go for a little while,” I tell Ally, forcing a smile. “If it’s terrible, we can leave.”
“Right. And it’s probably going to be terrible,” she says with a laugh.
“Oh, almost definitely.” I grin. “How could it be anything but?” I glance out the window. “Shit, the car’s here. I guess this is it.” The wave of nausea passes over me again.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Ally says, offering me one last out.
I shake my head. “It was too late the day I first clicked on Mister Bigshot’s stupid Lovemail profile.”
Ally looks confused but I just link my arm through hers and we make our way to the elevator. When we emerge from the building and Trent’s driver, Ted, greets us.
“Miss,” he says, nodding curtly. I blush, remembering the time that he had driven us down Lake Shore while Trent and I fucked in the backseat. I really hope that privacy partition is as soundproof as Trent claimed.
Ted helps Ally into the car. It isn’t Trent’s usual SUV but a modified one similar to the one he’d driven us out to Luke’s place in last time, with a wheelchair ramp. Well, I’ll give the man one thing — he’s certainly thoughtful about Ally’s accommodations. My heart gives another tender little ache as I climb into the car beside her.
The party is all the way out at Luke’s house, which is a first for Loft & Barn. According to Ally, who followed their social media religiously, this is the first time Luke has ever invited media to see the workshop, and it’s creating quite a buzz in the design world.
The drive to Luke’s takes a little over an hour — traffic is heavy and it takes us forever to get outside of the city limits. Ally and I are quiet in the backseat, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
What am I going to say when I see Trent again? He’s apologized for everything, technically, but how do I know I can really trust him? I want this to be real for him — as real as it had begun to feel for me. I don’t want to be just the stupid junior copywriter, naively screwing the boss.
I look out the window as the city turns to suburbs and suburbs turn to country fields, and then finally we’re pulling up in front of Luke’s place. I’m not any closer to an answer.
“Wow, it’s packed!” Ally breathes. She’s right — there are hundreds of cars, lining the mile-long driveway and some even parked on the lower part of the lawn.
“I’ll drop you off up closer to the house, Miss,” Ted says over his shoulder.
“Thank you.” I was dreading having to push Ally’s chair up that long driveway.
Ted makes his way slowly up to the house, nosing around cars and clusters of party goers.
“Oh my God, there’s Sloane!” I grab Ally’s hand and point to the unmistakable blonde in the blue dress, standing on Luke’s lawn drinking a glass of champagne. I feel a wave of relief at the thought of having a friend to talk to, until I realize she’s probably still pissed at me.
“Your work friend?”
“Yeah. What’s she doing here? I thought these parties were just industry types.”
Ally shrugs, and we both continue scanning the crowd. Finally, Ted pulls the car to a stop and gets out, letting me out and then helping Ally with her chair. He disappears with the car and then we’re alone there, in a crowd of hundreds.
“This is crazy,” Ally breathes, looking around and taking it all in.
“It really is.” The crowd has to be at least double, probably triple, the amount of people who were at the last launch party. The whole vibe is different too — that one had been much more formal and business-like, whereas people actually seem to be having fun here. There are people holding mason jars of something that looks like lemonade, and there’s country music blasting out of speakers that are set up somewhere out of view.
It’s more like a giant picnic than a fancy corporate party. Now I’m doubly glad I didn’t wear the gold dress.
We wander through the crowd. I’ve lost sight of Sloane but there are quite a few other people I recognize from around the office. No Charlene, though, thank God.
There’s a bunch of furniture set up on the lawn, including Adirondack chairs with extra high ornate backs, sexy tufted lounge chairs, and huge octagonal picnic tables in rich dark woods. No one is sitting at any of them, but people are clustered around them chatting.
I stop in my tracks, grabbing Ally’s arm.
“I know what this is,” I say, looking around at the pieces. “This is the new collection.”
“Oh my God, you’re right.”
We make our way closer, and sure enough, there are little plaques beside each piece with descriptions.
I’m just bending in to read the card on the Adirondack chair when I feel it. A presence. A warmth.
Trent.
I spin around. My heart is already buzzing, fluttering like a trapped hummingbird.
“Hi,” he says. His brown eyes shine.
“Hi.” My voice is barely more than a whisper, but somehow I know he can hear me, even over the hum of the crowd around us.
“I’m glad you came,” he says. His smile is warm, and his face looks … relaxed. Happy. Though there’s a note of hesitation as he tries to read my expression.
“Me too,” I say finally, and he relaxes further.
“So.” He looks around, gesturing to the pieces scattered over the lawn. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s fantastic.”
“Loft & Barn’s first outdoor collection.”
“I absolutely love it. Luke outdid himself.”
“Believe it or not, I had a bit of a hand in this.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. Well, I kind of had to make up for last time — you know, when I practically destroyed our brand. Come on, I want to show you something. Grab Ally too.”
I glance over at Ally and shrug in confusion, but we both follow Trent over to one of the octagonal picnic tables.
“This is for you,” he says to Ally. “Check this out — fully adjustable.” He lifts up the seat on one of the sides and the whole thing comes off. He removes another section and then folds under the corner of the table — making a perfect opening, easily big enough to roll a wheelchair up to.
Ally looks up at me, her eyes shining. She’s laughing and crying at the same time.
“This is … you did this for me?”
He nods, a bit sheepish now. “Yeah. For you, for your sister, for the whole company. I realized I was trying to make us stand out for the wrong reasons — and that maybe a better way to carve out our share of the market was to create something that truly brought value to people’s lives.”
Ally reaches out and squeezes my hand, and when I look down, I see the tears in her eyes. I blink back a couple of my own.
Trent is smiling hesitantly, as if he still isn’t quite sure how I’m going to respond. He looks so handsome, standing there in the early evening sun, and his face looks so open and hopeful, that I have no choice but to throw my arms around his neck.
“It’s lovely,” I tell him. “The table and the sentiment.”
We hug for a long time, and the feeling of his hard body pressed against me makes me feel weak in the knees again. He feels so familiar, so warm, so safe.
And the bulge that’s growing between us, the dampening between my own legs, is familiar too, only it’s not warm and safe at all but delicious and dangerous.
I have to force myself to pull away.
“Thank you for inviting us,” I say politely. “It was really sweet of you.”
I start to turn away but Trent reaches out and grabs my hand.
“Have dinner with me.” It’s not a question but a command, and though I want to be strong and say no, I can feel myself waffling. It doesn’t help that Ally’s looking at me as if I’m crazy for trying to walk away from the man who built her a damn picnic table.
Trent’s face
is imploring, but as usual, it’s quick to turn into a grin.
“At L’Amour?” he prods. “Come on — maybe we’ll finally make it this time. Third time’s a charm, right? Isn’t that what they say?”
“They do say that,” I murmur, unable to keep the hint of a smile off my own face. Even though Trent hurt me, he’s clearly trying to make things right, and the least I can do is let him.
“Okay,” I say finally, much to the delight of Ally, who practically claps her hands together in glee.
Trent looks pretty happy too, because the cocky grin melts into a genuine smile.
“Great. That’s great, Hannah. Thank you.”
Trent has to go talk to a couple of reporters then, so Ally and I say our goodbyes and find the drinks table. We help ourselves to mini Mason jars filled with lemonade and nibble on cucumber sandwiches.
I’m just thinking we should head out when Luke wanders over.
“You made it!” he says, giving me a hug and then leaning over to hug Ally as well. “What do you think?”
“It’s fantastic,” Ally says, before I can say a word.
Luke grins. “I think you guys inspired Trent. I don’t know what you did, but I’m the one who should be thanking you. Loft & Barn is finally back.”
“Oh, we didn’t do anything,” I say, embarrassed.
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Hannah,” Luke says with a kind smile. “I think you did do something. I’ve known Trent a very long time — well, our whole lives, if you want to get specific — and I’ve never seen him like this before. Ever.”
I swallow down a lump of something that’s part fear and part hope. But Luke isn’t done.
“Trent’s always been … well, kind of an asshole, if we’re being honest. But lately he’s been thinking outside of himself more. This whole collection? This wouldn’t have happened a year ago. I think he’s finally ready.”
A lump is forming in my throat. “Ready for what?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Luke doesn’t answer though. He just smiles magnanimously and nods at Ally and I, and then strolls away.
