Safe With Me (24 page)

“Oh my god, Hannah. I’m so sorry.” He says this simply and with so much sincerity, it makes her want to cry. She bobs her head once in acknowledgment. “Was she ill?” he asks.

“She was hit by a car.” The moment of the accident flashes in front of Hannah and she has to close her eyes and swallow hard to contain the sharp sob she feels building in her throat.
She wonders if it will ever get easier to say these words—to tell someone the truth.

“What was her name?”

“Emily.” Hannah whispers her daughter’s name like a prayer and forces her eyes open to look down at Seth. They hold each other’s gaze for a moment before Hannah finally drops hers to the floor, then resumes the final touches on his cut. When she’s done, she adds a dab of styling paste to hold his hair in place. He is quiet while she does this, and it’s not until the front door opens and Veronica and Peter walk through it together that Seth speaks again, examining his reflection in the mirror.

“I look like a new man,” he says. “Thank you.” She gave him a George Clooney style—close cropped, pushed forward, and slightly spiked and messy in the front. It suits him.

“You’re welcome.” Grateful that he seems to intuit that she can’t talk any more about Emily and doesn’t press her for details, Hannah carefully removes the cape, and Seth stands up, smiling at her.

“Good morning!” Peter says cheerfully as he takes off his coat and proceeds to his station. Veronica waves, too, as she walks past them toward the kitchen for her morning coffee. When she’s sure Seth’s back is to her, she points at him, widens her eyes, and mouths the word “cute!” at Hannah, who chooses to ignore her.

“Good morning,” Seth says to Peter, then he and Hannah step over to the reception desk, where she runs his credit card and takes what she hopes are imperceptible deep breaths to calm her racing pulse. She’s not sure if the anxiety she feels is over telling Seth about Emily or about the way he
looked
at her when she told him—like he understood something deep
within her core. As he puts his wallet in his back pocket, Hannah struggles to find the right words to express how she feels. She finally lands on “I’m happy you came in.”

“Me, too,” he agrees, then runs a light hand over his newly shorn hair. “I’ll never buzz it again.” They briefly discuss when he should schedule his next appointment, and just as he is about to leave, Sophie breezes in through the front door.

“Good morning!” she says, then stops short when she sees Seth. “Well, now. Hello.” She gives Hannah a pointed look, then takes a step over to kiss Seth’s cheek. “Remember me?”

“How could I forget?” Seth says. “Robert hasn’t stopped talking about you.”

Sophie flushes and lowers her eyes, clearly pleased to hear Robert has been discussing her with his friend. From their limited communication over the past week, Hannah knows Sophie has seen Robert several times since the night they met, but her friend hasn’t gone into much detail. Hannah was assuming that he was just another one of Sophie’s casual flings, but from the look on her face, she wonders if the relationship might have the potential to be something serious.

“What’s up, Soph?” Hannah asks lightly. “Don’t you have clients this morning?”

“My partner’s been avoiding me,” Sophie answers in an equally cool tone. “So I cleared my schedule for a visit.”

Seth’s gaze ping-pongs between them before he grabs his coat from the rack by the door. “I need to get to the office, too,” he says, then looks at Hannah. “Thanks, again.”

She smiles at him as he leaves, then turns her eyes back to Sophie. “I have another client in half an hour,” she says, purposely not telling her friend who that appointment is. She
might not have looked at her schedule closely enough for it to register that Seth would be her nine o’clock this morning, but she
does
know Olivia will be there at ten thirty—she made that appointment herself the day she first called Olivia. Knowing Sophie disapproves of Hannah’s interactions with Olivia, she can’t imagine that the two of them meeting would go well. She needs to get Sophie out of here as quickly as possible.

“Plenty of time,” Sophie says. “Let’s go upstairs.” Reluctantly, Hannah tells Peter where she’ll be, and a moment later, she and Sophie are seated on the love seat in her small living room. “So . . . Seth?” Sophie says, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “What else haven’t you been telling me?”

Hannah shrugs. “I didn’t know he was coming. Veronica made the appointment.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Sophie murmurs. “He’s very handsome. Robert says he’s a good guy.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

“No!” Hannah says. She doesn’t say anything more, waiting to hear whatever it is Sophie came to say. All she can think about is the letter Zoe said would arrive today, and she wonders how having Seth show up could have so easily distracted her. She needs to check the mail.

“Then what aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing.”
Hannah shifts her body, turning it slightly away from Sophie. Her friend knows her well enough to recognize when she’s lying, so when she feels Sophie try to catch her gaze, she looks down, suddenly very interested in picking at a loose thread on the love seat.

“Your mom told me you went to someone’s house for dinner the other night.”

“When did you talk with her?” Hannah says, finally looking up.

“She called me Monday, just to check in. And Isaac emailed me.” Sophie gives Hannah a pointed look. “He said you’ve been avoiding him, too.”

Hannah tries to think if this is exactly true. Isaac had shot her a few texts over the last week, but she’s been so distracted by meeting Maddie and Olivia, she can’t remember whether or not she answered them. And she just spoke with her mother Friday night on the way over to Olivia’s house. Why was she “checking in” with Sophie after that? The idea that they were talking about her behind her back infuriates Hannah, so she stays silent, giving Sophie what she knows is a defiant look.

Seeing this, her friend sighs. “We’re just worried about you. That’s all.”

“Don’t be,” Hannah says. “I’m fine.”
Am I really so dysfunctional? What’s next? Some kind of intervention?

“Fine spending time with the family you’re stalking?”

“Jesus, Soph. I’m not stalking anyone. I just had dinner with them.” She decides to keep quiet about the fact that she also had lunch with Olivia and that they’ve been texting back and forth every day since. “I
like
Olivia and Maddie,” she continues. “
James
Bell is different story. He’s kind of an ass.” She waits for Sophie to ask for details—her friend is usually anxious to gossip about anyone and anything—but Sophie only frowns.

“Hannah, you know I love you, but if they’re the family you think they are, then you definitely need to be honest
with them. What you’re doing isn’t fair. To them
or
you.” She reaches over and tries to grab Hannah’s hand, but Hannah jerks out of her reach.

“I’m
fine,
” she snaps again. “I wish everyone would
please
stop telling me what to do.” She grips the edge of the cushion between her fingers. “I’m going to tell them, okay? When I know for sure, one way or the other.” A few tears slip down her cheek and she angrily wipes them away. “I can’t
do
this right now, Soph. I have a client, okay? Can we talk later? I’ll come over, I promise. We’ll have dinner and catch up. I know I’ve been distant . . . I just . . .” She trails off and her bottom lip trembles before she can go on. “I’m finding my way through this as best I can.”

“I know,” Sophie says. “But I wish you’d stop thinking you have to go through it alone.”

Olivia lowers herself onto one of the couches in Ciseaux’s reception area just as Hannah comes down the stairs.

“
There
she is!” the female stylist who greeted Olivia when she came in says, as she runs a comb through her client’s long black hair.

Seeing Olivia, Hannah looks shocked—or is it panicked? Olivia is more than a few minutes early—she decided to come right over after dropping Maddie at school. Maybe she’d forgotten about their appointment.

“Olivia . . .” Hannah begins, but just as Olivia stands to greet her, a stunning, willowy redhead steps out from behind Hannah and stares at Olivia with piercing green eyes.

“
The
Olivia?” the redhead inquires with a tilt of her head. Confused, Olivia looks to Hannah for clarification.

“Yes,” Hannah says quietly. “Olivia Bell.”

“Hello,” Olivia says, slightly unnerved by the intensity of this woman’s gaze.

“Sophie Renard,” the woman says with a melodic trill as she strides across the room to shake Olivia’s hand. “Hannah’s business partner . . . and best friend.”

“Oh!” Olivia says, glancing over to Hannah, whose expression has morphed from one of shock to one of apprehension. She looks back to Sophie and quickly grasps her hand. “Lovely to meet you.”

“Yes,” Sophie says. “I’ve heard so much about you.
And
your daughter.”

Before Olivia can ask what, exactly, she has heard about them, Hannah comes around the reception desk, too, putting her arm around Sophie and giving her a tight squeeze. “Sophie was just on her way out,” she says, then looks to Olivia. “I’ll be right with you, okay?”

“Is Hannah doing your hair, too, now?” Sophie asks.

Olivia nods, raising her fingers self-consciously to tuck her hair behind one ear. “If this is a bad time, I can reschedule,” she says, feeling as though she’s just walked in on a conflict she would be better off avoiding.

“It’s not a bad time,” Hannah says, practically shoving Sophie toward the front door. “Veronica, can you please get Olivia some coffee or water? I’ll be right back.” She opens the door, keeping one arm wrapped around Sophie as they move across the threshold and onto the porch. Olivia watches their animated conversation through the large bay window.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Veronica asks dutifully.

“No thank you,” Olivia says, keeping her eyes on Hannah, who looks as though she’s about to cry as Sophie speaks to her. After a few minutes of this, Sophie hugs Hannah, a long, hard movement, during which Hannah’s arms hang loose at her
sides. Olivia strains to hear what Sophie says next and thinks she hears the words “If you don’t tell her, I will.” With that, Sophie finally trots down the stairs and out of the yard.
What would Hannah have to tell me?
Olivia wonders.
If, that is, Sophie was referring to me.

Hannah stands extremely still, her shoulders curled and her head down, until her friend climbs inside her car and drives away. Olivia feels the urge to go console Hannah, but something holds her back—a sense that her presence wouldn’t be appreciated. She watches as Hannah takes a deep breath and straightens her posture, then strides toward the front gate, where she checks the white mailbox, which turns out to be empty. Hannah looks up to see Olivia staring at her, and she manages to smile as she scales the front steps and reenters the salon.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Hannah says, smoothing down a few flyaway strands of her black hair. The corners of her mouth twitch, as though her pleasant expression is taking more effort than usual.

“No worries,” Olivia says. “I’m a little early.” She pauses. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course!” Hannah says brightly, and Olivia hates that her new friend feels that she has to hide whatever’s really going on. But then she thinks about the many times she’s lied to the people in her own life and she knows she doesn’t have the right to judge Hannah for any secrets she might feel the need to keep.

Another woman enters the salon, and Veronica rises to greet her. The two of them wander over to Veronica’s station, and Hannah leads Olivia to hers. “Busy morning?” Olivia asks
as she lowers herself into the chair and Hannah adjusts the protective cape around her neck. Olivia panics briefly, wondering if there are marks on her skin that Hannah might see, but then she comes to her senses, remembering that James hasn’t choked her in over a decade. But the memory of the night he did has haunted her ever since her brief conversation with Professor Lang; just this morning, she woke up in a cold sweat after dreaming it had happened again.

“A little hectic,” Hannah says, giving her another false smile, then goes on to tell Olivia that the man she met the other night came in for an unexpected appointment.

“Did he ask you out?” Olivia says, watching Hannah’s face in the mirror to gauge her reaction to the possibility.

Hannah blushes and shakes her head. “Strictly business,” she says, but her suddenly shy smile tells Olivia otherwise. “So,” Hannah continues, “are we just touching up your highlights today?”

Olivia twists her head back and forth, staring at her hair—the shade one she has kept so long, it feels like her own. “I’m thinking of going dark again,” she says. “Back to my natural color. Like Maddie’s, maybe.” She looks anxiously at Hannah. “What do you think?”

“I think you’d look amazing. Let me go grab my sample book and we can talk about shading.” A few minutes later, they’ve decided on a warm chestnut with undertones of auburn and honey, which will only show when the sunlight hits them.

Nerves swirl in Olivia’s belly as she watches Hannah squeeze various pastes into a plastic bowl and begin to mix the
color. “James isn’t going to be happy about this,” she says in a voice she’s afraid reveals more than she’d like.

Hannah stops what she’s doing and puts the bowl down on the counter. She furrows her thin, dark brows. “It’s your hair, though, right?”

“Of course,” Olivia says. “It’s just . . .” She falters, then begins again. “He prefers me blond.”

“And what do
you
prefer?” Hannah asks. When Olivia doesn’t respond but instead holds utterly still, Hannah leans down and speaks next to her ear, so that no one else can hear. “I might not know you well enough to say this, but it worries me how scared you are of him.”

Hannah’s words make Olivia feel as though something inside her has dropped down several levels. “I’m not scared,” she murmurs, but she knows she’s not convincing Hannah—or herself.