by Carrie Elks
Richard leaned down and whispered something to the woman seated beside Lillian, and the girl reached out and smoothed down his jacket. Hanna held her breath as Richard looked at the girl, his smile gentle and crooked. Ruby had already told Hanna about Meredith, Richard’s fiancée.
Before Hanna could find an appropriate reaction to the scene playing out before her, the wedding march started, and everyone turned to see Nathan’s fiancée, Lucy, walking down the aisle on her father’s arm, followed by an assortment of bridesmaids. Turning to watch the bridal procession also alerted the guests to Tom’s presence. Hanna watched in angry astonishment as more than a few people started to take pictures with their camera phones, ignoring the bride altogether.
She began to wonder if bringing a famous singer to a Larsen wedding was such a good idea.
“Looks like the cat’s out of the bag,” she whispered. Tom tried to act nonchalant and ignore the flashes. “I’m so sorry.”
“It happens all the time,” Tom replied, glancing over his shoulder to see a security guard trying to remain invisible at the back of the room. “Don’t sweat it, Hanna. I’m here for you.”
They had debated back and forth for days whether she should even attend the wedding. At first she thought it had been a cursory invitation, only issued in the hope she would refuse it. But both Claire and Nathan had called and urged her to attend, and promised her there would be no weirdness between Richard and her. Claire had even gone as far as suggesting Tom be her “plus one,” no doubt urged on by Ruby, who maintained an impressive devotion for the singer.
After the ceremony, they moved into the dining room for the customary wedding breakfast. She and Tom were sat at a round table full of twenty-somethings in the middle of the room. Hanna couldn’t stop herself from sneaking glances at the top table, her eyes seeking out Richard, her gaze lingering on his face.
“You need to stop looking over there,” Tom whispered to her, after a particularly long stare. “Eventually he’s going to notice.”
Hanna blushed and dragged her eyes away yet again. Glancing at her watch she wondered how the hell she was going to get through the rest of the day. She wasn’t sure if she could go for another eight hours without making a fool out of herself.
“Keep reminding me,” she replied, before turning to the guy called “Mosh” who sat on her left. He was trying to regale her with a particularly lurid anecdote involving Nathan, a forgotten toothbrush and a toilet scraper. Hanna was pleased she’d finished her food before he started his story.
The toasts followed dinner, and when Richard rose to give the best man’s speech, she felt Tom put his arm around her shoulders once again. Hanna leaned into him, grateful he was there to support her. To hear Richard talk about true love was like a knife to the heart, no matter how light-hearted and funny he made his speech. His lips moved softly as he spoke, and occasionally his eyebrows rose up to accentuate a joke, at which point the guests all joined in the laughter. Her favorite part was when he made the toast to the happy couple. She watched as he picked up his champagne to take a sip, and his pronounced Adam’s apple bobbed below the taut skin of his neck.
As afternoon darkened into evening, the guests returned to the ballroom for the entertainment. A band had set up in the corner, playing modern, middle-of-the-road music which both Hanna and Tom found amusing. Slowly, people trickled onto the dance floor, fuelled up with alcohol and food and ready to bust a move.
Tom wandered to the bathroom, promising Hanna he would return as quickly as he could. She found herself at the bar, ordering a beer in the hope it would lend her some of that Dutch courage people always talked about.
“Hi.”
Hanna turned to see Richard standing alongside her. Meredith was next to him, her petite frame somehow accentuating his broad chest. Hanna’s mind momentarily blanked, and she could feel her panic starting to rise as she tried to think of something to say.
“Hi.” It wasn’t much, but it helped her avoid looking like an idiot.
“Hanna, I’d like you to meet Meredith Devries. Meredith, this is Hanna Vincent.” Hanna automatically shook the girl’s hand, surprised at her soft skin and limp wrist.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Meredith.” Hanna was surprising herself with her social graces. They were like a reflex action. So ingrained, that saying the words was automatic.
“You too. Are you a friend of Lucy’s?”
Richard had never told Meredith who she was? Hanna found this interesting, and for the first time turned to look at him. He stared right at her, focused on her face, but not her eyes. It was like he was gazing at her lips, and for some reason she found herself moistening them with the tip of her tongue.
“No, I’m Ruby’s friend.” It was as good an explanation as any.
“Hey, what have I missed?” Tom’s voice was like cold lemonade on a hot day, and Hanna reached out to take his hand.
“Richard was introducing me to Meredith.” Hanna replied.
“Oh my goodness, you’re that singer aren’t you? My sister loves your music.” Meredith’s smile lit up her face, and Hanna found herself cataloguing all the reasons she hated beautiful American women.
“Ah, thanks. Are you a music fan?”
Meredith leaned forward and whispered, conspiratorially, “I don’t really listen to music at all.”
Hanna’s eyebrows shot up as if they were trying to merge with her hairline. She was trying not to look amused, but clearly failing. Her eyes automatically moved to look at Richard. As soon as he looked back at her, a grin broke out and Hanna found herself returning it.
God, it felt good.
Despite the band’s mediocrity, Hanna and Tom made an ironic attempt to dance. She collapsed in a fit of giggles when he started throwing himself all over the place in a parody of John Travolta, causing more than a few cell phone cameras to be turned to “video.” She couldn’t help but feel grateful to him, for supporting her at the wedding, for throwing himself under a bus to make her smile. He was a true friend.
Ruby joined them after a while. Wanting to give her at least something to talk about when she returned to university, Hanna gestured to them she was going to the bathroom, leaving Tom and Ruby performing an interesting rendition of the Macarena.
It was getting late, and the guests had thinned out. The bathroom was empty when Hanna walked in. It was elegantly decorated with guest towels and Molton Brown soap—no hand dryer and blue soap for guests at Chalkley Manor.
Rubbing hand lotion into her palms, she opened the door to walk outside, only to see Richard standing right there, his face serious, his lips thin. His brows were knitted together into a frown.
“Can I ask you something?” He gently pushed her back into the bathroom, and Hanna felt her heart beat faster at the sensation of his hand as it circled her wrist. They’d both been drinking all night, and she wondered if it was him, or the drink, talking.
“Yes.” It was the only reply that sprung to mind, and she breathed it out like her life depended on it.
“Are you and Tom fucking?”
Hearing him say it made her eyes fly wide open and her mouth drop. For a moment she felt angry, for his intrusion and his coarse language. But her face softened as she started to wonder his reasons for asking.
“No, we’re just friends.” She watched as relief washed over his face, and suddenly she felt angry again, knowing he had somebody new and she was all alone.
Even if it was her own fault.
“In fact, Richard, since you asked so nicely, I haven’t fucked anybody in three years.” The implication was there; he was the last man she had slept with.
He moved closer, so their bodies were inches apart, and she felt herself stiffen in reaction to his proximity. A tiny step forward and their chests would be touching. All she’d have to do would be to tip her head up and allow him to dip his down, until their lips met in an explosive kiss.
And she could guarantee it would be amazing. The way they were both br
eathing heavily, they were seconds away from acting on it.
“Why not?” His voice was strained, and she could see his hands curl into fists, as if he was trying to stop himself touching her.
Hanna hesitated. The answer was dancing on her lips, playing on her tongue, but to say it would be to let him know exactly how she felt about him. Was she ready for that?
She found herself leaning toward him, and though they were both fully clothed, she felt raw and exposed. His eyes searched hers, and she felt the need for honesty, to throw herself before him and admit what she’d done.
“Because it’s only ever been you.”
A flush crept up his face, and his expression changed from confusion to complete and utter rage. Hanna stepped back, fearing his response. He let out a furious growl before turning and slamming his fist into the mirror attached to the bathroom wall, making it shatter into jagged shards and fall over the basin and onto the tiled floor.
The seconds that passed seemed like hours as they were both glued to the spot, unable to move in the face of her revelation and his reaction. Richard was cradling his wrist, and Hanna moved to touch it, seeing blood beading at his knuckles, wanting to do something to take the pain away.
The physical pain, at least.
“You can’t do this.” Richard’s face was still feral. He unclasped his hand and moved it up to lift her chin. “You can’t come waltzing back into my life and tell me you only ever wanted me. Admit it’s a lie.”
Hanna shook her head, unwilling to answer his demand.
“Fuck it, Hanna. Sitting out in the ballroom is the girl I’ve asked to marry me, and she doesn’t have a goddamned clue what’s going on. Do you expect me to break her heart, the way you broke mine?”
“No.” The tears were flowing now, and she could feel them running down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
She meant it. About everything.
Richard reached out his injured hand and shakily drew it down her cheek, wiping away her tears, until he reached her mouth. His thumb lingered at her lips, touching them so lightly she could barely feel it. Knowing he was close to the edge, she stood very still, unable to move for fear of what he could do.
“I’m going to go now, and I’m going to try and forget every word you said to me.” Richard leaned toward her, and brushed his lips against her wet cheek. It took every ounce of strength Hanna had not to turn into the kiss and press her mouth against his. “Please don’t follow me, or try to talk to me, I don’t think I’d be able to restrain myself.”
“Okay.” Hanna’s voice was still a whisper, and she stood still as a statue among the debris of glass scattered over the floor.
Richard backed away from her, never once averting his gaze until he reached the door. After pulling it open, he turned to look at her one last time.
“I’ve never seen you looking as beautiful as you do right now.”
Seventeen
February 19th 2009
Richard scanned his eyes down the list of new rentals, barely listening as the head of the real estate division took the board through the quarterly business review. Since the subprime disaster the previous year, the division had been hemorrhaging dollars, and he had to keep a much closer eye on what used to be regular transactions.
New rules had been created, including more severe credit checks, increased deposits and a deep dive into their renters’ accounts, ensuring they were renting to companies that had a future.
“What’s this one?” Seth Brown pointed to a small transaction at the bottom of the first page. “Buzz Media sounds like a bit of a risky choice.”
“They’re an internet media company based in London.” Nick Martin, the head of real estate, pushed his lanky dark hair out of his eyes. “They’ve passed all our checks, and our realtor has met with their representative, and has given me a full rundown.”
“How long have they been in business?” Richard asked, turning the pages in front of him until he found the more detailed transaction.
“Nearly three years, they’re not a start-up. One of the partners has flown out to set up their New York office; she’s the one our realtor has been dealing with.”
Maxwell Enterprises owned real estate across the country, and rarely dealt directly with their renters. Instead they employed a third-party to manage the rentals for them, and only recently had Richard even had to play a role in making sure the leases were signed with companies that weren’t about to fold.
It was a sign of the times.
As he reached the bottom of the page, he saw her name, and did a double take. The last person he ever expected to see renting a property in Manhattan was Hanna Vincent.
“Are you sure they’re in it for the long term?” He stared at her name again. His mouth felt dry as he tried to take in the news.
“Absolutely, they’re in the process of recruiting a director to be based over here. Their representative from London assures me it is a long-term deal.”
Richard leaned back and steepled his fingers, allowing the rest of the board to continue asking questions as he pondered the fact she was back in New York. After all she’d said about this town, and all the times she’d refused to move here when they were together. Now she was living here, and he hadn’t even known it.
He chuckled quietly, berating himself for even thinking about her. The last time he’d seen her—at Nathan’s wedding—he’d made it clear he didn’t want her to contact him again. So why would he expect her to tell him, after he had been so adamant that night? But the knowledge she was living only a few miles away from him came like a bolt from the blue.
The bigger question was why his father hadn’t let him know, and Richard was pretty sure he knew the answer to that. Steven had seen the state he had been in after she’d left him, and had even noticed their meeting at Nathan’s wedding. He’d left Richard in no doubt how he felt about him following her into the bathroom.
The door of the conference room opened, and Lisa poked her head around the door, pointing to the phone she held in her hand. Richard got the message and pushed himself up to standing, wandering over to the door and whispering to his assistant.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Meredith, she says it’s urgent. She has your mother with her.”
Richard pulled the door closed behind him and walked into the corridor, lifting the handset to his ear.
“Meredith?” He didn’t mean to sound quite so severe, but they’d already discussed the frequency of her calls, and what was urgent to her didn’t always mean he should be disturbed during a meeting.
“Richard, we’re at the Westchester Country Club.” In the background, Richard could hear his mother’s voice as she whispered something to Meredith. “It looks amazing, their wedding services are fabulous. And they’ve recommended the most fantastic planner. She’s not cheap, but she’s the best and we really need to give her a call.”
“Couldn’t this wait until tonight?”
“But I’m going away tomorrow, and I want to call and make us an appointment. If we don’t get in soon, they’re going to be fully booked. They’re already full until summer 2011.” Her voice was breathless with excitement, and Richard closed his eyes momentarily, wondering why he had to get involved with the organizing at all.
“Give them a call, then, and set something up. You’ll have to tie up with Lisa about timings.”
Meredith squealed into the phone, causing Richard to pull the earpiece away from his face. A small smile tugged at his lips.
“So summer 2011 is the plan, right?” He wondered if he could cope with these phone calls for the next two years.
“Of course, it’s going to take that long to plan everything.”
IT HAD TAKEN a few phone calls, but he’d managed to glean some more information about Buzz Media, and their New York office. The company had been prospering despite the recession, mostly due to their ability to create an interesting website with a limited budget. The expansion in the US was generally seen
as a good move for them.
This was the sort of crap Richard never got involved in. The transactional value was way too low for him to show more than a cursory interest, and all indications showed the company was sound. Which was why he was almost shocked to find himself sitting in the back of the car, on the way to Tower 6, to see why Hanna Vincent was working in Manhattan.
Jack pulled the car up outside the office block in midtown, and Richard asked him to wait, not planning for this meeting to take very long. He wanted a few answers—felt he deserved them—before he could go back to his work, his fiancée, and his plans for the future.
His best laid plans.
The unit let to Buzz Media was on the third floor and had an uninspiring view. It was one of their cheaper offices, and Richard wasn’t surprised by the low-budget fittings and cheerful colors that greeted him as he stepped out of the elevator.
Buzz’s newly hired receptionist took her job seriously, and took a long look at Richard’s security pass before she allowed him through the door. “Miss Vincent is through the second door on the left. I’ll give her a call and let her know you’re here.” She let go of his pass and he placed it back in his pocket.
“No need, I’m an old friend. I want to surprise her, Amanda.” His voice was low and confident. He always found using the receptionist’s name got him what he wanted.
Richard walked around the corner and pushed open the door, smiling as he heard music pumping through an iPod dock. Hanna was standing with her back toward him, leaning over a catalogue, her hair cascading over her shoulders.
His fingers twitched with the tactile memory of those silky locks between them. Trying to ignore his own reaction, he cleared his throat, causing Hanna’s head to shoot up, and her body to whip around.
For a moment, she stood and stared, and he waited for her to respond. He wasn’t sure whether he was expecting a warm welcome or an angry tirade, but he was taken aback when a huge grin slowly spread across her lips.
