Fix You (15 page)

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 breathing 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 19
^th
2009

R
ichard 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.

“You shocked me.” Hanna’s eyes glistened as she placed a
hand on her chest, as if to calm her racing heart.

“I didn’t mean to.” His voice was lower than he’d expected,
and he cleared his throat again. “I can come back later—”

“Goodness, no.” She walked around her desk and over to him,
stopping when she was a few feet away. “It’s lovely to see you.”

“You, too.” He marveled at the way she still looked the
same, her soft creamy skin highlighted by her flushed cheekbones, her dark
brown eyes looking so alive. She was the girl he had first met all those years
ago. He tore his eyes away from her face and tried to remind himself he was
angry with her. It was difficult when she was looking so damned enchanted to
see him.

“So what brings you here? Did Claire tell you I was in New
York?”

“No, you happen to be renting office space owned by Maxwell
Enterprises. I decided to come and check you out.” He suppressed a grin at the
meaning of his words. “You, as in Buzz Media, not you as in Hanna Vincent.”

Hanna laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear, and sat down
on the front corner of her desk. “Are we going to pass muster?”

“I don’t know yet. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”
His tone was nonchalant, but he was beyond interested to hear more. He pulled
out a chair and sat down, leaning forward, keen to hear her response.

“I was conned,” she admitted, shrugging her shoulders. “My
boss cajoled me until I agreed to come out and set up the New York office.
Nobody else was available, they’re all having babies or completely loved up,
and I was the only one with dual nationality. Before I’d even had time to
think, I was walking through the baggage reclaim area, wondering how the hell I
got here.”

Richard smothered a grin at the thought of Hanna standing in
the middle of JFK, realizing somehow she had moved to New York despite her best
efforts to never do so. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

“Where are you living?”

Hanna started to swing her leg, drawing his eyes to her
short skirt, leading to the long, smooth skin of her thighs. “I’m squatting at
Steven and Claire’s apartment. I think I might be bringing down the tone of the
neighborhood.”

“Too many drugs and parties?” Richard joked, trying to look
anywhere but her legs.

“Not enough manicures and haircuts.” They both glanced at
Hanna’s torn nails before she moved her hands behind her, trying to hide them
from his scrutiny. “And apparently sneakers aren’t the appropriate footwear for
a lady over the age of twenty.”

“Have you been talking to Olivia?” he asked, remembering the
way Hanna’s stepmother used to criticize everything about her. She shook her
head with a grin.

“Oh, how rude of me, I forgot to ask after Meredith. How is
she?”

“She’s good, going crazy planning the wedding. I’m hoping
she won’t turn into a bridezilla.” He looked closely at her face to gauge her
reaction, but she remained placid and open, her lips curled as she returned his
gaze.

“It’s the moment every girl dreams about, I’m sure she’s
allowed to be a primadonna about it.” Hanna’s voice was quieter now, and he
began to wonder if she was putting on a façade. Or was he kidding himself?

“Do you dream about it?” As soon as the words escaped his
mouth, he wanted to take them back. He watched Hanna’s face fall and her brows
dip.

“I don’t allow myself to dream, Richard. I’m trying to stay
in the here and now.”

The urge to gather her in his arms and pull her against him
was gut-wrenchingly strong. She was such a mix of the girl he knew before, and
the one he glimpsed after her mother’s death. Her sudden vulnerability made him
feel almost angry, and like a caveman, he wanted to drag her away and hide her
from the world.

“How long are you planning to stay?” He tried to keep his
voice light.

“At least five more months. There’s so much to set up, and I
still haven’t recruited the right person to run the place yet.”

“Give my head of HR a call. She might be able to talk you
through some strategies.” Richard pulled his cell from his pocket and scribbled
down a number on a piece of paper, holding it out for Hanna to take. She smiled
at him before hesitantly reaching her hand out and placing her fingers on his.

The instant their skin touched, she pulled back as if she
was burned, leaving a corner of torn paper in his outstretched fingers.

“I’m sorry.” She looked down at the ground. “I’m a little
jittery.”

“It’s okay. I guess I’d better go anyway. It was great to
see you again.”

“You, too. Thanks for dropping by.”

“Would you like to join me for dinner next week?” It was
like the words came from nowhere, but he couldn’t regret saying them; his whole
body tingled at the thought of seeing her again. “It would be great to catch
up.”

“That sounds nice.”

“I’ll let you choose the restaurant.” He needed to get out
of there now, before he did something he was going to regret. He scribbled his
cell number on another piece of paper, wondering if she still remembered it, as
he’d kept the same one all these years. Passing it to her, he kept his fingers
well away from hers, knowing neither of them could take the shock of contact
again.

Leaving her with a goodbye, he strode back through the
corridor, feeling grateful the elevator took only a few moments to arrive. As
he walked inside, he leaned his fevered head against the cool mirror, trying
not to look himself in the eye as he wondered exactly what the hell he was
doing.