Fix You (16 page)

Because to all intents and purposes, it felt like he was
about to fuck up his life.

Again.

THE CHERRY BLOSSOM Café was only a few
blocks from her apartment. Hanna had chosen it because she knew the owners, and
loved the laid back atmosphere they created in the evening. In the basement
they held performances each night. Sometimes, a band would play. Other nights
there would be poetry recitals, or even small one-off plays. You never knew
what you were going to get, you just turned up, ordered your food, and hoped
for the best.

The fact they would have something to distract them from the
need to make small talk played a big part in her choice. She was afraid of the intimacy
of a sophisticated dinner-for-two, but was equally wary about the heated
adrenaline of a gig. The café was the best of both worlds, there would be a
table between them, but they wouldn’t feel alone.

Hanna had loved this place since the first time she’d
stepped inside a few months before. Alone, and slightly nervous, she’d
aimlessly wandered the streets near her apartment, and as soon as she pushed
the door open, it had felt like home. The dark-blue matte-painted walls, and
the battered wooden floor, offered a level of unpretentiousness she’d valued,
and the warm welcome of Alonso and his wife, Elaine, had only added to her
comfort.

Walking in, she waved at Elaine who was taking orders from a
large group in the corner, her black hair piled high on her head, and her
sixties-style geometric print dress complementing her curvy figure. Elaine
pointed over at a table at the back, a few feet away from the performance
stage, and Hanna tried not to laugh when she realized they’d have the prime
position for watching poetry. She hoped Richard was ready for it.

The table was empty, and the thought she’d arrived before
him buoyed her up, so she wasn’t feeling nervous anymore. They were two old
friends, meeting for dinner and a chat, and she was totally up for that.

And then she saw him.

Blood like acid shot through her veins, her heart hammering
against the cage of her chest, making want and need pierce her body like sharp
icicles. She stared in appreciation as he leaned on the bar, his face in
profile to her. Her eyes traced his jawline from his ear to chin, appreciating
the sharpness of his bone structure, and the way his dark stubble defined it.
He was leaning in, talking to Alonso, who was handing him a bottle of beer.
Even from this distance she could see he was smiling, the pull of the skin
surrounding his eyes telling her it was genuine.

As he picked his beer up, Richard turned toward her, wearing
dark trousers, with a white shirt tucked in. She thought maybe he had come
straight from the office, deciding to remove his tie and roll up his sleeves as
a concession to the casualness of the evening. He’d undone two or three buttons
on his shirt, exposing a few inches of chest, and she saw a fine dusting of
hair curling against his skin.

“Are you ready to be seated, Hanna?” Elaine’s voice shocked
her back to the present.

She swallowed down the memories and turned with a smile. “Yeah,
looks like my guest has arrived.” She motioned in the direction of the bar. “I’d
better go say ‘hi.’”

“Go get seated and I’ll bring you a drink. Sancerre?”

“Sounds great.”

As she approached the bar, Richard noticed her, pushing
himself up from the stool to stand. The sleeves of his shirt were slightly
crumpled, and she couldn’t help but look at the way his forearms emerged from
the rolled up cuffs, all warm skin and golden hair, the lines of his tendons
firm and clear.

Memories of rough hands and soft lips assaulted her mind as
she inhaled deeply. Just one step further and her face would be against his
chest. She had to scrape her scant nails against her palms to stop herself from
doing it.

“Can I get you a drink?” Richard asked, bending down to kiss
her on the cheek. It was barely a second of contact, but it was enough to make
her feel like she was on fire.

This was such a bad idea.

Why had she ever thought she could handle this? Hanna had
seen this as a chance to redeem herself, a way to apologize to him for her
disappearing act. She wanted to wish him well for his future with Meredith, but
instead she was transported back in time, to those golden months when their
lust had exploded, before her mother’s illness had ripped her heart in two.

“Elaine’s bringing me one over. Shall we sit down?” She
managed to keep her voice nice and even. Perhaps if she played the part of a
friend, her mind would eventually catch up.

They walked to the table, Hanna leading the way, and without
him in her eye line she managed to regain a little equilibrium. It lasted for
all of two seconds, until they were seated at the small bistro table, the warm
glow of the candle reflecting off their faces.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been here before,” Richard said,
lifting the paper menu from the table and glancing at it. “It seems a nice
place, though.”

“I thought you must know it, since it’s only a few blocks
from your dad’s apartment.”

He shrugged, taking a sip of his beer before glancing up
from the menu. “I guess we must have missed this one. Do they do breakfast?”

“I think so. I don’t really eat before lunch, so I’ve never
asked.”

“I remember.” He grinned wryly, and she thought her heart
was going to stop.

“I never really got to apologize to you,” she babbled,
trying to find a way to fill their empty conversation. “About the letter. And
me leaving.”

His smile dropped. He placed the menu carefully back down on
the table, smoothing the wrinkles with his palm. Looking back up at her, his
face was a picture of calm. “You want to talk about that?”

She nodded. Even if they never saw each other again—and with
her stupidity and faux pas it was a distinct possibility—she wanted to offer
him the one thing she had left. Her regret.

“I want you to know I appreciate everything you did for me.
When mum was so ill, you were the only one who kept me going. I know they say
you hurt the ones who love you most, but it’s no excuse for me upping and
leaving.” She ran her fingers nervously around her wine glass, smoothing out
the beads of condensation. “If it’s any consolation, and I’m sure it isn’t, I
pretty much want to kick my own ass for what I did.”

His responding laugh was light. “I’m not sure I come out of
this with a gold medal. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the way I treated
you at Nathan’s wedding. I don’t usually get violent in bathrooms.”

A brief vision of a tiled floor covered with glass. “I
pretty much deserved that, too.”

“You’re being hard on yourself; I’ve come to terms with it
all. What’s done is done, and hopefully we’ve both come out of it a little
wiser.”

His magnanimity cut her to the quick. Either he was truly
over it, in which case she should be happy he’d moved on, or he was a damn fine
actor.

“Tell me about Australia.”

She smiled at his attempt to change the subject, deciding to
take the proffered olive branch. “It seems such a strange time, like
remembering a Christmas when you were a small child. When I look back, it’s
like I’m seeing someone else, a different me, who took over my life for a
while.” She shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe I have multiple personality disorder
or something.”

“Did you keep in touch with anybody?” His words were light,
but she glanced up to see if his eyes were giving anything away. They weren’t.

“Ruby, of course, and I had to keep in contact with Jamie
and Natalie for work reasons. I met up with Tom and the band once, when they
played in Sydney, but that was a clusterfuck. I ended up getting drunk and
crying all night, and they were too scared to let me go home. They thought I
might do something stupid.”

Something flashed in Richard’s eyes, and she tried to define
it, wondering if it was a trick of the candlelight. Taking a sip of the wine
Elaine had given her, she continued. “It took me a while to realize you can’t
outrun depression, and eventually I knew I needed to go home. I was putting off
the inevitable. There’s a certain comfort in being with the ones you love.”

She glanced at him nervously, embarrassed at her own words.
He must have been thinking them through as much as she was. He held her stare
for a moment too long.

Sensing his discomfort, she changed the subject. “So, tell
me about Meredith, she seems like a lovely girl.”

“She is.” He agreed, the tenseness of his facial muscles
belying his unease. “We met at an art exhibition.”

“I bet Caroline loves her,” Hanna drawled, trying to coax a
smile from him.

He nodded amiably. “They appear to share the same taste in
wedding venues at least.”

“Have you set a date?”

He shrugged, his face turning serious again. She wondered
why the smile had disappeared. “We’re looking at 2011, just need to firm up the
plans.”

As Elaine brought over their main courses, he changed the
subject again, explaining how the recent economic downturn had impacted Maxwell
Enterprises, and their attempts to shore up their income stream. She asked him
about Daniel, and tried not to let him see the tears forming in her eyes when
he explained about the buy-out, and Daniel’s recent difficulties.

Whether it was the impact of the alcohol, or the relief of
unburdening their regrets, the atmosphere between them had loosened by the time
the poetry performance started. Elaine had cleared the table, leaving their
drinks, and Richard moved his chair around to sit beside Hanna, so he could get
a better view of the stage. The fabric of his shirt brushed her bare arm, and
she didn’t know whether to stay put, or pull away.

His closeness unnerved her.

“If they try to pull me up and recite poetry, I expect you
to save me, okay?” he whispered in her ear, making her lips pull up in
amusement.

“I’m so going to volunteer you.” She grinned at him
wickedly. “I can’t wait to hear your poem about the economic downturn.”

“I imagine it would be something like… oh hedge fund of
mine, you led to the subprime, we thought derivatives were it, but landed us in
the…”

“Hush.” She hit him lightly on the arm, pulling her hand
back in embarrassment. “I swear I’m going to bring you to open mike night if
you don’t behave.”

“You started it.” His voice turned to a whisper as a woman
swept up onto the stage, her dark flowing skirt creating a dramatic entrance as
it flared out behind her.

They were silent as she began her recitation; her dramatic
words accompanied by an over-enthusiastic steel drummer. She showed no stage
fright or discomfiture at all, and though Hanna had little interest in poetry—despite
having a degree in literature—she couldn’t help but be impressed by the way the
poet threw herself into it. Even Richard managed to keep fairly still, only
having to hide his amusement with a cough a couple of times. Hanna swallowed
the impulse to poke him in the ribs.

He was sitting so close to her; it felt unnatural to hold
herself so stiffly. As if they were still together, her body wanted to lean to
the right, put her head on his shoulder and her palm in his. His thigh was
barely an inch away from her own, and she kept glancing at the hand he had
resting lightly against it, willing it to move until he was touching her skin.

Was he feeling the pull as strongly as she was?

Hanna wanted to slap herself for even thinking it. He was
engaged to somebody else, and he wasn’t hers to lean against.

It didn’t stop her body from wanting, though. Her back
started to ache with the effort it took to maintain her rigid pose. In her mind
she could picture exactly how her cheek would feel, leaning against his chest,
soaking up the warmth of his body through his shirt. She burned to feel the
rhythmic movement of his ribcage as he exhaled, the reassuring sound of his
heart beating against her ear. She was thankful when the performance was over.

Eighteen

August 28
^th
2009

I
t was nearly evening by the time he pulled
into the graveled parking lot. Richard found he had to pause a moment to
rearrange his features, reminding himself that it was all going smoothly.

Out of all the charitable efforts the Maxwell Memorial
Foundation supported, Camp Leon was the one that touched Richard’s heart. It
wasn’t about glitzy clothes, or seeing and being seen. It was about the
children, the offspring of those who had died, and those who had barely
survived. For six years, he’d watched them grow, some of them turning from
young children into angry teenagers who couldn’t understand their place in the
world. Others were maturing into amazing men and women who returned as counselors.
They all had a special place in his heart.

The foundation bought the abandoned campground in 2002. In
the first year they rebuilt the cabins, making the area safe by clearing out
the long-abandoned lake. By 2003, they were able to hold their first series of
camps, offering them to the children of 9/11 free of charge. For some of the
kids it was their only chance to escape the introverted air of the city, for
others it was their one opportunity to act their age. The only difference
between Camp Leon and other, less specific camps was that they employed a
number of therapists to help the children open up and discuss their bereavement
in a safe environment.

“Richard, you made it!” Ruby ran over and hugged him
tightly, a beaming smile plastered across her face. “Can you hear the music?
The kids are all raving about it.”

The concert was a new addition this year. Back in March,
during a visit to “The Buzz’s” New York office, he’d confided in Hanna that
some of the teenagers were sick of the usual camp fare. They’d been through six
years of canoeing, climbing, and swimming, and Richard wanted to offer them
something different. He couldn’t for the life of him think what that would be.

She’d surprised him by suggesting a teen-only music camp,
offering to organize the activities and participants herself. Five months
later, she’d managed to call in enough favors to put on a full-scale concert on
the final day, as well as various workshops throughout the week. She’d taken a
week’s leave from work to be able to run the camp. His only regret was that
work had kept him in the city until today.

“It sounds great.” Richard hugged his sister, trying not to
chide her for her short mini-skirt and tank combination. It was over eighty
degrees, after all. He had to remind himself she was twenty years old.

“Is Meredith not coming?” Ruby asked, unaware she was
hitting a sore point. Richard rolled his eyes, remembering their heated
discussion before she left for the Hamptons.

“She’s away.” His reply was curt, but he offered Ruby a
smile to soften the blow.

Ruby smiled back, but her eyes didn’t join in. “That’s a
shame; she’s going to miss a great show.”

He tried not to laugh. He loved Ruby dearly, and was amazed
by the way she always saw the best in people. “I’ll make sure to show her some
pictures.”

 “Have you had a good time?” he asked. Ruby’s face lit up as
she remembered the past few days. It was the first year she’d attended as a counselor,
and she positively glowed at the trust he’d put in her. He was pleased he’d
listened to Hanna when she suggested he give Ruby a call.

“It’s been amazing. The kids are fantastic, and Hanna’s let
me be involved in all the organization. She hasn’t stopped running around, and
when she’s not sorting out the bands she’s been sitting with the kids, or
playing softball with them.”

He wasn’t sure how he knew she was near. Maybe he saw
something from the corner of his eye, or perhaps the hair on his skin stood on
end at her closeness. Either way, when he heard the familiar cadence of her
laughter, he swung around.

Hanna was chatting animatedly with a counselor, flinging her
arms around and grinning wildly. Every movement was exaggerated, and her
vibrancy made him want to run over and sweep her up in his arms. Like Ruby, she
was dressed for the steaming hot weather. Short denim cut-offs curved over her
behind, and she’d knotted a sleeveless black band t-shirt over her navel,
revealing a sliver of tanned skin. Even from here he could see she’d caught the
sun.

Richard walked over to the two of them, noting with pleasure
that when Hanna lifted her head up to see him, an unguarded smile spread across
her lips.

“You’re here!” The evening sun reflected off her tan skin. “What
do you think?”

“You’ve done a fantastic job. The director keeps calling me
up and asking if you can do the same thing next year.”

Hanna laughed. A throaty, sexy chuckle, which made his body
ache. “You know, I’d love to. I’m so amazed by the kids, they’re all so brave.”

“I don’t know how to thank you for what you’ve done.” He
burned with the need to hug her. But since their reconciliation they’d kept
each other at arm’s length, as if they were both aware that to step into the
murky waters of physical contact would break down the delicate dam they’d
created.

“I couldn’t have done it without Ruby.” Hanna hugged his
sister against her side, and for a moment he felt a pang of jealousy. “She’s
been like my right hand man. I’m thinking of offering her the job of manager in
our New York office.” Her tone was light and teasing.

The fortunate side effect of her failure to recruit a
suitable candidate to run the office was that she had stayed in Manhattan
longer than she had originally planned. He wasn’t sure how much effort she was
putting into the search any more, but if he had his way she’d be cancelling the
contracts with the agency and agreeing to stay out here full time.

He liked having her around. She was easy to talk to and
bounce ideas off. She was the first person he wanted to call when he was having
a bad day—or a good one, come to that. She was his friend—probably his best
friend—and it made him happy to have her near.

“I’ve got to go and sort out the next band.” She smiled at
him, and he could feel a little flutter in his heart. “I’ll catch up with you
later, okay?”

“Sure.” He agreed easily, knowing he needed to circulate and
catch up with the kids. “I’ll try and grab you before the fireworks.”

Hanna was talking to a group of donors when the final band
finished, looking incongruous in her festival clothing amongst the linen dresses
and smart suits. It didn’t seem to faze her as she answered questions and
accepted their compliments.

Richard stood and watched for a while, liking that she didn’t
know he was staring. Meredith had once described her as “zany,” which was as
good a description as any, though it probably had the opposite effect to the
one Meredith was hoping to create. Hanna’s quirkiness endeared her to him.

Maybe he was just jittery about the wedding. Even with more
than a year to go, Meredith was ramping things up, spending weekends with the
organizer, trying to coax him out to try different caterers and bakeries

 “There’s absolutely no way I’m making a speech.” Hanna’s
voice rang clearly through the night air now the music had stopped. His lips
twitched at the thought of her standing up, her tiny body dwarfed by the main
stage, and stuttering her way through a long list of people to thank.

“You deserve the accolades,” Mimi Flynn, a wealthy donor and
9/11 widow, was saying. “My son tells me you managed to get so many great bands
organized.”

Hanna coughed out a laugh. “I think Sean may be a little
biased.” Richard didn’t have to look to know she was blushing. “But thank you,
anyway.”

Tired of being a spectator, he walked toward the group, his
presence drawing their eyes away from Hanna. Keeping half an eye on her, he
spoke with the donors, smiling and thanking them for their help. He knew most
of them well—from their links with the foundation, as well as bumping into them
at other events—and it was hard to keep their exchanges to pleasantries. They
were his friends.

Hanna finished talking with Mimi, then glanced over at the
rest of the donors. “I think the fireworks are about to start. I’ve arranged
for some drinks to be served just outside the donors’ tent.”

Her words were greeted with pleasant murmurs of agreement.
Within moments, the lure of champagne and canapés had cleared the group, and he
watched them walk toward the white canvas tent.

And then there were two.

“Hey.” Hanna was rubbing at her arms, and he could see the
goose bumps lifting at her skin. The evening air was still warm, but her
clothes weren’t appropriate for sundown.

He wished he was wearing his jacket, just so he could drape
it over her shoulders, but he’d left it on the backseat of his car, along with
his tie. “You look cold.”

“It’s the absence of body heat,” she joked. “I’ve been okay
as long as I’ve been in a group of people. I’m like the poor kid stealing next
door’s milk from the stoop.”

She started to shiver. Not teeth clattering, full on shudders,
but her body was shaking enough to make him want to do something about it. He
stood for a moment, reasoning with himself that if it was any other female
friend, he wouldn’t hesitate to pull them closer and wrap his arms around them.
Maybe run the palms of his hands over their skin until the shaking stopped.

She didn’t seem like any other female friend, though.
Standing there in front of him, her face was illuminated by the floodlights
dotting the lawn. She looked like the Hanna he used to know, the one who
dribbled on him in parks, and flirted with him at parties. She looked like
his
Hanna.

“Come here.” It was a demand, not a request. He didn’t wait
for her answer. One step forward and he had his arms around her, breathing in
the fragrance of her shampoo as he gathered her body against his.

Jesus, she was cold. Her skin felt like ice to the touch,
and he was kicking himself for not doing this earlier. It wasn’t a sexual
embrace at all. It was the gesture of one human to another, offering warmth and
comfort.

That was his line, and he was sticking to it.

Hanna opened her mouth to say something, but her voice was
drowned out by the noise of the first of the fireworks exploding overhead.
Purples and greens cascaded through the air, drawing a collective gasp from the
crowds.

She was holding herself awkwardly in his arms. Like she was
afraid to move, or put her arms around him, and it made him hold her closer
still. She felt like a wild animal, curious enough to allow itself to be picked
up, but nervous once in his arms. He willed Hanna to let herself relax, let him
warm her up, because right now she felt like a frozen icicle, all rigid and
inflexible.

When the second firework exploded, Hanna lifted her head to
watch, her features fixed in an expression of wonder. Maybe that was why he
found her so much more fascinating to watch than the display of pyrotechnics
overhead.

“Did you arrange these, as well?”

Hanna suppressed a smile. “When you mention kids and 9/11,
it’s amazing how generous people can be.”

She caught his eye for a moment, and it was enough to make
him twitch. As her body warmed up, his need to protect her was being replaced
by something stronger and more primal. This was a dangerous line he was
treading. He’d forgotten what it was like to be involved in a maelstrom of
emotions, his heart beating faster and his blood racing. Was it preferable to
the calm, reassuring certainty offered to him by Meredith?

He wasn’t sure.

“It’s amazing how generous you’ve been.” He cupped her cheek
with his hand, causing a shock of surprise to flash across her face. “You’ve
spent the last few months sorting this out, and I know you’ve given up so much
of your free time, not to mention your vacation.”

She was so still in his arms, he thought she might be in
shock. He wondered if she was afraid, like he was, of breaking down the walls they’d
so carefully constructed. They’d both made separate deals with the devil,
promising not to step over the invisible line if it allowed them to be in each
other’s lives. They’d made the mistake once before of trying to be lovers, and
look how that turned out.

“I like being able to help…” Her voice was just a murmur,
her words trailing off when the next round of fireworks started up. This time
she didn’t watch, just stared at him as her face reflected the colors of the
explosions in the sky. She went from orange, to green, to red, and he licked
his dry lips, trying to decide on his next move.

Letting go wasn’t an option he considered.

“Hanna,” he murmured, so quietly she couldn’t hear him. He
wasn’t sure he wanted her to. He dropped his forehead to touch hers, her eyes
widening when she saw the expression on his face. He thought of his wild animal
analogy again. She was never going to be his, but it was enough to see her,
watch her from afar, to ensure she was safe and happy.