What the Heart Needs (29 page)

“What?” Elliott asked as her sentence hung.

“It’s just… I don’t think it’s a good thing if it got out that we are…” she waved, at a lack of words as to label what, exactly, they were doing.

Realization dawned on Elliott’s face. She didn’t want people to know. Like she was embarrassed. It was a new thing for Elliott. Most women wanted the world to know. Wanted to plant a flag on him to show other women ‘look what I claimed’, or possibly, ‘back off I got him first’. He found he didn’t like it this way. He didn’t like her being ashamed of sleeping with him. But the more dominant rational part of him understood completely.

“Alright,” he said finally. “I will drop you at the bakery down the block,” he said trying to sound casual.

“Okay that works,” she said, topping off both of their coffee cups before taking the carafe to the sink to clean it out.

“And I’ll arrange for you to get one of the company cars,” he said as he finished the last of the toast.

Hannah’s hands stilled in the soapy water. “What?” she asked, looking over at him.

“You’re a full time employee and the nature of your work demands travel. It’s actually wrong that I didn’t give you one to begin with,” he shrugged.

“Oh,” Hannah said, turning back to her cleaning. “Okay. That’s great, thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, Hannah,” Elliot said, coming up behind her.

His chest brushed up against her back. She tried to not lean into him, to stay focused on washing the soap off the carafe. Was he going to make a move on her right there in the kitchen? When they were almost running late for being early for work. But he reached around her, grabbing the soapy sponge and washing out their coffee cups. Hannah put the carafe in the drying rack and stayed still, his arms around her as he soaped up and rinsed out their mugs. There was no escaping the small, intimate moment.

And it was then that she realized she might have slightly more than sexual feelings toward Elliott Michaels.

Then he was moving away from her and she took a deep breath, trying to clear her frazzled thoughts. She was just overwhelmed. That was all.

Tad kept sending odd looks her way throughout the day, but, blessedly, found himself too busy to stop and chat with her. For only being away for a few days she had an absurd amount of work to catch up on. She was thankful for the distraction, losing herself completely in her work.

There were keys on her desk when she came back from the kitchen. Just in time for her needing to run across town to pick up something at Elliott’s lawyer. She went down to the faculty garage and clicked the lock button twice, listening for the beep. It took two tries for her to locate the late model black Mercedes that, somehow, passed as an employee vehicle. Somehow she doubted all the reps drove expensive luxury cars. But then again- EM Corporation was certainly not hurting for money.

When she got back to the garage an hour later, she noticed a figure standing near the parking spot she had vacated before. It was numbered and she figured there were assigned spots for each work car. She felt her hands tense and her heart speed up. A part of her had managed to bury the fact that someone had tried to kill her the day before. But being back in her everyday life made it impossible to ignore.

She relaxed when she noticed it was just Tad. But as she was about to pull in, Tad walked into the space, holding up a hand to stop her. She stopped the car when she saw the concerned look across his face. Climbing out of the car, she felt sick. “What’s wrong Tad?” she asked and he simply pointed to the ground where her car was supposed to be parked.

You were supposed to die, whore.

“What the hell is going on, Hannah?” Tad asked, enunciating each word firmly. She started to shrug and he shook his head at her. “Don’t even,” he said visciously.

Hannah felt her idea that she had control over the situation slipping. She was in so deep. And now she had to fill in Tad. The idea left a sour taste in her mouth. “Fine. Fine. But I don’t want to talk about it here,” she said as a few men walked out of the elevator and walked toward their cars. “Hold on,” She said going back to the car and returning with a large cup of coffee she had just bought. She opened the cap and spilled it over the words, making them run until they were unreadable.

Tad backed up and she pulled the car in. He got into the passenger side and rolled up the window. “I want to know everything. I knew something was up,” he said, almost to himself.

“I didn’t want anyone to look at me different I guess,” Hannah admitted, staring straight ahead. “I’ve been getting a lot of threats.”

“Yeah no shit,” Tad said rolling his eyes.

“This isn’t even bad though. I mean I get dozens of letters and emails a day,”

“Oh Hannah,” Tad said, his voice a mix of concern and sympathy. “Why?”

“Because someone isn’t happy about me and Elliott,” she admitted, feeling strangled by the words.

“Whoa. Wait. What now?” he asked, turning in his seat to face her fully. “You and Elliott?”

“Yeah well. Things happened. I know, I know,” she said, holding up her hands as his eyes rolled. “I know you warned me. It just happened. I dunno. It’s not even the point. The point is someone started this even before anything really… happened. Like they knew it was going to happen.”

“You’re his type,” Tad said, shrugging.

“Yeah I guess. But anyway yeah. The desk and the office rumors and then…” she felt her chest tighten. “Someone broke into my house. They stole my guinea pig.”

“They what?” Tad exploded, his face a mask of disbelief.

“I know. It’s crazy.”

“That’s like completely psychotic,” Tad said, his hand reaching out to settle on her leg. “That’s why you ran?” he asked, knowing the answer.

“Yeah. I went back to my home town.”

“And Elliott tracked you down and brought you back,” he supplied, knowing it was true.

“Well yeah. But not before someone cut my break lines and put stuff in my car to make it smoke and break down and stuff. It’s ruined,” she said, sounding sad about a car that was already half in the grave before it happened. “Hence the note on the ground,” she said, sighing.

“Hannah,” Tad said, waiting for her to turn to face him. “You have to call the police…”

“No,” Hannah interrupted. “That’s not even an option. It would all come out. I don’t want… anyone finding out.”

“You don’t want Elliott finding out,” Tad clarified and Hannah shrugged. “Alright fine. Get a private investigator then. You have to do something. You cant just let yourself keep being the victim. This person is going to kill you someday, you know.”

Hannah felt the truth of that settle like a brick in her stomach. This person was not going to stop until she was gone out of Elliott’s life. And since she proved that she couldn’t -or wouldn’t- stay away from him, she had to die. It was that simple in this person’s mind. Tad was right. She needed to do something.

“You’re right,” she said, her eyes meeting his. “I’m going to find someone.”

“Today,” Tad clarified and she laughed.

“Today,” she agreed.

Elliott mumbled to the knock on his door, distracted by a legal document Hannah had just handed him. Regarding his divorce.

“Hey big brother,” James said in his lazy way.

Elliott looked up, shaking his head at his brother’s work wardrobe. An old pair of faded black jeans, an old band t-shirt, and a formal black and white vest completely unbuttoned. Though unlike usual, he didn’t find himself irrationally annoyed by it. “Nice vest,” he said, putting his document down.

James’ eyebrows raised, surprised, suspicious. His brother never let him get away with his casual attire without a lecture. He sat down, eyeing his brother.

“Something is different,” he said and Elliott snorted. “Oh no, I know you better than that,” he scolded. “What is it? Is the divorce final?”

“No…” Elliott started and the door swung open.

Hannah came rushing in, a pile of files in her hands. She was too focused to notice him right away, walking over to Elliott and dropping the papers on the desk. She reached across him to grab his checkbook and Elliott’s hand brushed the back of her thigh. James’ eyes widened, thinking he had just seen something. But Hannah stood back up and her eyes lingered a split second too long on Elliott.

“Oh, James,” she said, shocked at first and then a genuine smile spread across her face. “How have you been?”

James winked at her. “Oh you know me. Keeping busy. Being gorgeous and charming is truly a full time job.”

Hannah laughed, walking back toward her desk and patting him on the shoulder as she passed. “Never change, James,” she said and was gone.

Once the door slammed, James let out a soft whistle. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into?” he said, staring his brother down.

“What are you talking about?” Elliott said, his jaw clenching tellingly.

“Oh don’t even try that. You’ve gotten yourself wrapped up with Hannah,” he accused, feeling suddenly angry. “She’s a great girl, Elliott,” he said, making Elliott look up, surprised. “don’t ruin that.”

“What are you talking about,” Elliott asked, irritated. He didn’t need his brother telling him that Hannah was pretty unique. It actually bothered him that James had noticed.

“You know what I mean. You go through women like water…”

“Like you should talk,” Elliott cut him off, sounding surly and argumentative. Deflect, deflect.

“We’re not talking about me,” James said, leaning forward. “I just don’t want to see Hannah get hurt.”

Elliott was silent a moment, his eyes downcast and thoughtful. “Trust me I don’t want to hurt her.”

James’ head cocked to the side, curious. “Well I guess what they have been saying about climate change is true because apparently hell has frozen over.”

“What are you talking about?” Elliott asked, feeling tense.

“You have feelings for Hannah,” James said, a lazy smile spreading across his face. At Elliott’s silence, he whistled low. “You know you don’t deserve her.”

“Yeah,” Elliott said, stacking papers more roughly than was necessary. “I know.”

Elliott felt a jolt. Had he actually just admitted to having feelings for her? He hadn’t allowed himself to think about it. But if he was being honest with himself, he knew that there was more than a fling involved. He had done countless of uncharacteristic things since she stepped into his life. God, he had tracked her down to her hometown.

“I barely know her,” he said, defensive.

James rolled his eyes, nearly knocking over his computer monitor as he put his legs up on the desk. “How long have you been…” James chuckled. “let’s go with ‘doing the deed’?”

Elliott felt himself ready to scold his brother, to deny anything was going on. But a larger part of him wanted to talk about it. “A few weeks, but not often. It’s complicated.”

“What isn’t complicated with you?” James asked. “Hannah isn’t the kind of girl to fall into bed with anyone. So she must have feelings for you also.”

Did she? Elliott hadn’t given that much thought, too distracted with his own foregin feelings to consider hers.

“Oh for god’s sake, Elliott,” James scoffed. “don’t be an idiot. You want to be with her. She wants to be with you…”

“It’s not that easy,” Elliott interrupted.

James put his feet back on the floor and leaned onto the desk. “Sometimes it is. If you treat her like all the rest of the women you’ve screwed around with, you’re going to lose her.”

Elliott ran a hand down his face, his stubble rough on his palm. “There’s always the issue of Dan…”

“Oh please,” James shook his head. “you know what Dan wants. Just throw her some money and she’ll sign the papers and you’ll be done with her. Don’t ruin things with Hannah over Dan.”

He was right. Elliott was just trying to find any excuse to not have to admit that he was entertaining the idea of having a relationship with Hannah. He hadn’t seriously dated anyone in so long that the idea of it almost seemed juvenile. What would they do? Go out on dates? Sit across from each other in restaurants? They struggled with conversation. But perhaps that was only because the situation felt awkward. Would things be better if he was upfront with her about his intentions?

Just as the thought came into his mind, Hannah walked into the room, her eyebrows immediately drawing together. “Wow there’s a serious vibe in here,” she commented, then smiled at James. “I, of course, am not talking about you.”

“Oh, of course not. No one would ever accuse me of being serious.”

“They wouldn’t dare,” Hannah said with a conspiratory wink.

“But anywho… congratulations on the sex you two,” James said, standing up and laughing at the shocked looks on their faces.

“Mr. Michaels,” Sally said after a swift two knocks at the door.

“Sally, you gorgeous thing,” James declared, kissing her dramatically on the cheek and sending Hannah and Elliott a grimace behind her back.

Sally composed herself, straightening her straw-like hair down. “Mr. Michaels, your appointment is here.”

“Right, send him in,” Elliott said, waving toward Hannah.

He’d just dismissed her. Hannah almost felt like laughing. But she walked back to her office, powering up her computer and typing furiously into a search engine. Elliott would be busy for a few hours. She needed to find a private investigator.

Sixteen

His name was straight out of a detective novel, Hannah thought as she parked the car in a part of town that made her nervous that she would have no tires left when she returned. She had a box under one arm and an address scribbled on a piece of paper and she scanned the barred storefronts for the correct number. She came to one with the picture glass window blacked out.

And on the glass door was two words. Xander Rhodes.

She pulled on the door and walked inside. She found a old brown leather couch, the material slit in several places and marked up in others. Worn. Old. The desk looked like something someone had thrown away, written all over with one too-short leg. There were newspapers and an older desktop computer on top. The walls must have been white at one time but had faded to a dingy yellow-beige color. On the wall behind the desk was a collage of newspapers and various candid photos taken at a distance stuck into the wall with brightly colored thumbtacks.