What the Heart Needs (9 page)

Inside she found Elliott standing, holding a glass in his hand. James was sitting at the desk, feet propped up like usual, with a glass held against his leg. He looked up when he heard her heels in the doorway and let out a low, appreciative whistle. “This might be the first time ever that I am not the most beautiful person in the room,” he teased, getting up and walking over to her to kiss her on the cheek. “You look absolutely gorgeous, Hannah.”

Elliott had turned when James had started to talk and fought to keep his jaw off the floor. Hannah had only ever worn clothes that were strictly professional and unflattering to the female frame. He had no idea what she was hiding behind bulky sweaters and button-ups.

She had a gorgeous frame with rather large breasts and flared hips. He legs were long and shapely and her pink dress hugged her in every flattering way possible. And her hair. He had known it was long. Even when she had it pulled into a ponytail, her hair fell down her back, but he hadn’t realized it would fall straight to her waist. It looked soft to the touch and he couldn’t help but imagine running his fingers through it.

He wished he could say something. She looked beautiful, more gorgeous than he even cared to admit to himself. But he knew it wasn’t professional to ever comment on his employees appearance.

He was jealous of James who could whistle at her and whisper to her, and stand there toying with her hair and making her smile.

Hannah agreed to let James get her a glass of wine though she had no intention of drinking it. When he left, she felt awkward standing there in front of EM for a moment in silence. “Thank you for letting me use the bathroom,” she said, shifting from foot to foot.

Elliott waved the hand with his drink. “Don’t mention it.”

“Is everything all set up? Did Mary have enough time to get all the food ready? And how is the band’s sound? I wasn’t sure about setting them up in that room.”

“Everything is fine,” Elliott said, his tone reassuring and firm.

“Did the bartender finally…”

“Hannah,” Elliott said, walking closer. “I have everything under control. Just relax.”

Relax? How was she supposed to relax? This was her event. Well, fine it was his event, but he had placed her in charge of overseeing it. Why should she just trust that he had handled everything the way she would? And why would he encourage her to step back from the job he had appointed her to?

But before she could try to clarify everything, Elliott had walked out of the room and disappeared to the other sitting room.

James came back a second later, a glass of white wine in his hand. “I figured white was a safer bet. You’d never get red out of that dress.”

“You’ve given this an impressive amount of thought,” she said, taking the glass from him but not taking it to her lips.

“You did a great job, you know that?” At her shrug, he shook his head. “I know Elliott would never say so but you did. I snuck a few of the finger foods and they’re some of the best I’ve had.”

“Mary is a genius.”

“You are a genius,” he smiled and gestured to her glass. “drink.”

“I’m working tonight,” she said, shaking her head.

James smiled, a big smile that reached his eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. “No you’re not.”

“Mr. Michaels told me…”

“I don’t care what Elliott told you. And I don’t know why he invited you, but its not to work,” he winked at her. “Maybe he just wanted someone to distract me so I don’t embarrass him.”

“He told me he wants me here to oversee…”

“There’s nothing to oversee, Hannah,” James interrupted her again. “There have been many of these parties put together by many assistants. None of them have ever been here to oversee anything because there is nothing to do. I honestly don’t know what Elliott’s motives are here. It’s out of character for him. But you can relax, have a drink, and stay away from the business d-bags that are going to want to be all over you tonight.”

“Oh, please,” Hannah rolled her eyes, but finally took a sip of the wine.

“You obviously haven’t spent any time around these men. Their money and power makes them think they can have, and are entitled to, whatever they want. And they are going to want you.”

“Great,” Hannah mumbled. So there was no work for her to do and she would have to politely dodge half of the guests at the event so she didn’t get groped and flip out on some important guy.

James took his chin in between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to face him. “Don’t freak out. I can see the wheels working in there. I’ll keep an eye on you. If anyone gets too involved in your business, I’ll come over and be my usually charming self so you can politely excuse yourself. Elliott doesn’t actually want me here to help him discuss business. He makes me come so it looks good.”

“Why would it look good?” Hannah wondered. “What, exactly, do you do at the company?”

“Ouch,” James winced, holding a hand to his heart. “Easy, princess. I am actually the guy he sends out to other companies. People have a tendency to receive me better. I’m more of a people person I guess. Elliott can be difficult to deal with. He’s great at sealing the deals, but I’m the one who brings them to the table.”

Hannah was surprised. She had always figured James was a lackey that Elliott put up with out of family obligation. It was intriguing that James had such an important role in the company, despite not doing near as much work as it seemed Elliott did daily.

“Interesting,” Hannah murmured, looking around at the servers moving to and fro, getting used to the floor plan. It was an equal mix of male and female servers all dressed in black slacks and tucked-in black button-up tops. They all looked neat and efficient despite their young ages.

She watched the goings on for a few minutes, standing in companionable silence with James. Then the doorbell rang and Hannah jumped. Was she supposed to play hostess? But these people wouldn’t recognize her if she was the one greeting them. What would she say?

“That’s me,” James said, handing her his empty glass. “time to be my charming self.”

James went to the door, opening it with a flourish and a huge smile. He shook hands with the man who stood there and kissed the cheek of the man’s wife. To her surprise, after a moment of small talk, James led them right over to her. “Edward, May, this is Hannah Clary. Hannah, this is Edward and May Campbell.”

Hannah has just finished saying hello when EM walked out and into the hallway, a rare smile on his face as he walked up and greeted the couple like old friends. Feeling out of place, Hannah slinked away unseen and went over to the band that had just started playing their first song.

Within fifteen minutes, the enormous space of Elliott’s lower floor felt cramped. Conversations rose up as glasses got filled and refilled. Hannah was engaged in conversation a time or two by random people, curious at who her connections were. She casually dropped that she was an associate of Elliott and James- choosing not to disclose their actual situation.

James kept looking over at her, as promised, to make sure no one was pestering her unnecessarily but guests seemed to keep him unexpectedly busy.

She felt incredibly alone in the room full of people. She walked from room to room, not wanting to stay in one place too long and make herself look as out of place as she felt. As she rounded back into the study for the fifth time, she felt a hand rest, familiarly on her lower back. She turned, expecting to find James there as he was the only person who would take such liberties with her.

Instead, she found EM standing there looking down at her. He was holding a small plate with a piece of each of the finger foods the servers were circulating around. Suddenly, she was hyper aware of the touch of his hand, the firm pressure that splayed half of her hips, the heat she could feel through her thin dress. She felt desire well up, unbidden and spread through her belly and down her legs until she felt unstable. “Here,” he said, placing it in her hand. “you haven’t eaten anything.” And then he walked away toward a group of men who had just passed around cigars.

Hannah looked down at the plate, her stomach rumbling suddenly. No one else had plates full of food and she felt awkward eating in front of people she didn’t know. Then Elliott looked pointedly over his shoulder at her and she picked up a cucumber roll and put it in her mouth. He nodded and turned away.

She quietly exited the room and found herself in the second sitting room which was strangely empty. She slipped out of her shoes for a moment and finished all the food on the plate. It felt good to escape for a moment. The stress of not knowing anyone was wearing on her nerves. Growing up in a very small town where everyone knew everyone and their mother… she had never quite gotten used to being surrounded by strangers and expected to interact with them.

“Ah there she is,” James said from the doorway. “I thought some millionaire out there had stolen your heart and whisked you away for a Vegas wedding.”

“As if that was even a remote possibility,” Hannah scoffed, picking up sweet potato roll and stuffing the whole thing in her mouth.

James came to sit across from her, lounging in the chair. His eyes were a little glassed over and she wondered how much he had had to drink. “Elliott give you that plate?”

Hannah nodded, still chewing.

“Of course he did. I told you he liked a little flesh on a woman.”

“Oh stop with that,” Hannah objected, rising from her seat and slipping back into her shoes. She didn’t want to have this discussion anymore. EM was not interested in her that way. She was of value to him because of how hard she had been working, not because she would be a convenient lay. And she certainly didn’t want to get into an argument about it, given her somewhat irritable mood. She quickly came up with a flimsy excuse and started to the door. “I don’t want Mr. Michaels to think I am being antisocial staying in here by myself.”

“Oh, gorgeous,” he started, rubbing his eyes, “you are so adorably naïve.”

Hannah felt her heckles rise and fought back the urge to snap at James. She wasn’t used to him sounding like his brother- a little condescending and arrogant.

But James seemed to notice the look on her face, despite her efforts to cover it. “Go ahead, say it. I know you’re dying to.” He smiled his a smile that she would otherwise find charming but at the moment found it cocky and un-called for.

“Fine,” she paused. “you’re an ass,” she said, turning on her heel and haughtily walking away.

She had reached the entryway when he finally caught up with her and whirled her around to face him. “Nuh-uh,” he said, not letting go of her arm. “Don’t run away. I wasn’t trying to…”

“James,” Elliott broke in suddenly. She hadn’t even seen him in the area when they had come in.

“Don’t Elliott,” James said. “It’s not about you.”

Hannah felt her heartbeat pound so hard she felt nauseated. Were they really about to get into an argument in front of her… over her? She knew she should say something and diffuse the situation, but her words froze in her throat and she stood there dumbly listening.

“You came barging into my foyer and forcibly grabbed someone who was obviously trying to get away from you. You made it about me.”

Hannah could feel the heat rising in her face. She couldn’t just stand there and allow this to escalate. “This is a misunderstanding,” she broke in between their whispered argument. They both stopped and stared at her as if forgetting she was even there. “James just wanted to tell me something and he was trying to catch up to me. That was all.” She lied more easily than she had ever been able to before.

Elliott looked down at her with a look that implied he knew she was lying but he wasn’t going to refute her claim. James shot her a look that said both ‘thanks’ and ‘I didn’t need your help’ at the same time.

Before anyone had a chance to say anything further, a woman approached suddenly and put an arm around Elliott’s back. She was tall with shoulder-length blond hair and sharp blue eyes. Her nose was thin, her chin sharp and her face a perfect heart shape. She was absolutely gorgeous and extremely thin. Through her bright red cocktail dress, Hannah could actually count her ribs.

The lady in question shot James a look with raised brows and gave Hannah a downright withering stare. Elliott was looking down at her as if he couldn’t understand what was going on.

James was the first one to break the silence, “Hello Dan,” he said in an uncharacteristically venomous tone.

“James,” she said back with a matching inflection. They obviously hated one another. She glanced at Hannah, seemingly to make a point at suggesting she was purposely not involving her in the conversation. “Elliott, darling, Daddy was looking for you.”

Elliott looked downright murderous, but kept his tone neutral when he spoke as he carefully stepped out of her grasp. “Go tell Frank that I will be right with him,” he said in a tone that would accept no further discussion.

Dan looked as though she was contemplating saying something more, but then thought better about it. She shot Hannah another look before turning away and, presumably, finding her father.

A silence followed for a moment, broken by James who grabbed a glass of wine from a passing server and saying, “Ice, ice, baby.”

Hannah fought the urge to laugh until she heard Elliott let out a short, low chuckle and then it rushed out of her like a teenaged girl’s fit of giggles. Elliott smiled down at her for a second, reaching out to his side and grabbing a white wine glass. He handed it to her, still smiling slightly. “Excuse me,” he said, following Dan over to her father who was looking at him expectantly.

“Well she’s an absolute delight,” Hannah said, taking a sip from her glass.

“Oh baby doll… you have no idea,” James touched her hand gently. “Listen, Hannah…”

Hannah held up her hand to stop him. “I was childish. And while I stand by the fact that you were being an ass… I am just in a surly mood and I took it out on you.”

James sighed, suddenly turning and lowering his forehead to rest on hers. “I really like you Hannah,” he said, pulling away and looking at her with a look much more serious than she had ever seen on him before. “I know you think I’m just picking at you, but I’m genuinely trying to be helpful. Trust me, I know my brother. And I know that if there was a physical depiction of the mental image he holds of the perfect woman… you would be it. You can deny it all you want, but he wants you. And while he might be on his best behavior right now, trust me, some day that will change. I want you to know because I want you to be prepared because no woman has ever lasted longer than a few weeks in Elliott’s life.”

Hannah couldn’t wrap her head around the conversation. On one hand, her own personal insecurity weighed in and reminded her that she was usually never much to look at- that men had easily avoided paying her attention for a great many years and there was no evidence to suggest she was in any way wrong. But there had been moments. In her office, when he caught her… his hand on her back. She felt a shiver run down her spine.

“How long do women typically last in your life?” she countered with a smile, hoping to try to steer the conversation off of her.

“Touché,” he smiled a little. “but this isn’t about me. This is about you. I really hate to see you get hurt. And I would hate it even more if you were suddenly gone from EM and I couldn’t see you around anymore,” He held a finger up to someone who was waving him over from across the room. “I just wanted to plant the idea in your head, love. Do with it what you will. You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure things out. Now if you’ll excuse me, those people over there think you’ve monopolized my fabulous company for far too long.” He smiled and walked away.

Hannah walked toward the sitting room, placing her now-empty wine glass on an empty tray a server lowered toward her. Thanks to impossible amount of liquor that was being consumed, people had finally found courage to create a dance floor. The band was in the middle of an up-beat oldie but goody and couples and even singles were laughing and spinning around happily.

She had done this, she realized with a smile. This was her doing. The band, the music selection, the food, even the booze. She had made this happen and made these people have an enjoyable atmosphere. Pride like she hadn’t felt in a long time welled up inside her and she swayed a little.

Suddenly a wine glass was lowered toward her face from behind her. She reached for it dumbly, expecting a smart quip from James to follow. “What are you doing standing here all by your lonesome?” came an unfamiliar voice, instead.

Hannah turned to find a man standing there. He looked somewhere into his late middle-age and had salt-and-pepper hair and deep brown eyes. “There’s that pretty face,” he said with a smile that turned her stomach.

She silently wished James hadn’t been right about this particular, seemingly inevitable, part of her evening. There wasn’t much she could do to properly excuse herself from this man’s attentions. And her supposed savior was nowhere in sight.

“So what’s your name, gorgeous?” he asked, and she detected a southern drawl.

“I’m Hannah,” she answered, glancing past him.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he responded, touching her arm.

She felt her skin crawl and he didn’t remove his hand, instead it sat there, heavy and clammy and feeling like an invasion.

“So what is a pretty thing like you doing here?”

His fingers started running up and down her arm and she cringed at the dread-like feeling welling up inside her belly. She drank her wine in a long sip and hoped it would help her deal with this more diplomatically than she felt she currently could. “I’m an associate of Elliott and James,” she answered for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

“I see. Well, I am in construction,” he said in a way that suggested she should be impressed. “But let’s not talk about business. This event here is supposed to be for pleasure. I am very interested in pleasure. Maybe you can find a way to show me some pleasure. From the looks of you, you were built for it.”

Oh, god. Hannah felt trapped. In any other situation, she would have attacked him with a smart comeback, slapped him, walked away… anything other than stand there and have a man old enough to be her father rake his hands over her skin and look at her as if she were a piece of meat. But she couldn’t insult him; who knew how important he might be to the company. And she couldn’t slap him or walk away either. It was the most uncomfortable sensation she had ever experienced and she felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

“Bob,” came a voice behind her and she nearly fell against him. Elliott. He stood behind her, just slightly to her side so he could look at Bob directly.

She looked up with him, feeling suddenly, foolishly, incredibly emotional. She knew tears swam in her eyes and she fought them but then Elliott looked down at her and saw. Something in his expression changed. Where before he had seemed curious, he looked for a second softly at her, almost worried. Then that was quickly replaced by a quiet anger.

“Elliott,” Bob answered, suddenly releasing her arm and it fell limply to her side. “I was just getting to know your little associate here,” he said with a mischievous smile and had the audacity to wink at her.

“Yes, well if you’ll excuse us,” Elliott said, his hand reaching for hers. He took her empty wine glass and thrust it at Bob who snatched it, confused.

She followed, slightly pulled by him to the dance floor. The music had just turned to a slow song and Elliott pulled her close, one hand resting on her hip, the other holding her arm outward, clasping it with his.

It took her a second to realize what had just happened. He was going to dance with her. She had only ever slow-danced once before at her high school prom with her boyfriend Sam who had both his hands on her hips and she had her hands around his neck and they swayed awkwardly to the music. This was different. This was actual slow dancing. She had no idea what to do.

Elliott didn’t say anything, firmly placing pressure on her hip and keeping their arms stiff so he could lead her easily around.

Hannah moved where she felt he was pushing her, keeping her eyes firmly on his tie.

“Are you okay?” he asked, quietly, almost in her ear. She nodded, not caring to look up when she knew there was definitely still a few of tears spilling over. Silently, she blamed the wine. She knew better to drink when she was already in a bad mood. She always got upset. Elliott sighed. “Look at me, Hannah,” he demanded softly.

At her name, her head snapped up. She still wasn’t used to hearing it from his lips. “I’m fine,” she said, forcing a smile that, unfortunately, made the corners of her eyes crinkle and a tear fall quickly down her left cheek.

“Don’t,” he asked in a voice that almost sounded helpless to her. But this was Elliott Michaels. There wasn’t a helpless bone in his body. “Please don’t cry.”

Before Hannah could say anything, Elliott was tapped on the shoulder by a very determined-looking Dan. “Can I cut in?” she asked, pulling Elliott’s hand toward her.

It happened so fast, she could barely process it. One second, Elliott was dancing with her, the next, he was physically pulled away. She stood there, looking at Elliott’s back, held pin-straight and she could see from Dan’s face that they were arguing heatedly, but quietly.

“May I?” James asked, coming up behind her and turning her toward him. He took one look at her face and pulled her against him, her chest buried into his neck with one arm around her back and the other placed on her upper arm. “Hold on there, gorgeous. I’m gonna dance us right out of this room.” He felt her stiffen at his words and chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. If there is anyone who could get away with this, its me.”

And he was right. One moment, they were right in front of the band and the next they were in the second seating room which was still abandoned but for two servers trying to sneak a break. They quickly scurried away when they spotted the odd pair.

James lowered her into the recliner, perching himself on the arm of it, their bodies touching from head to feet. She kept her eyes closed against the curious expression she was sure she would find.

After a few moments, James was unable to keep the silence. “Did he step on your toes?” he asked and a hysterical laughed escaped her. He laughed too and patted her knee. “I always suspected he was a terrible dancer but I never thought he would reduce his dance partner to tears.”

“Hush,” Hannah giggled, slapping him across his stomach.

“What happened, love?”

Hannah looked up at him and shrugged. “I shouldn’t be here. I’ve been an outsider since everyone arrived. And I should have known better than to drink.”

“Let me try again,” James said, patiently. “What happened?”

She sighed, knowing there was no way she was going to get away with having broken out the water works and not have to explain herself. “You didn’t save me,” she said simply.

James’ eyes immediately sank. “What? Who? What happened?” His body was taut as a bow and he looked ready to spring into action if he felt he needed to.

Hannah placed a calm hand on his. “It really wasn’t that big of a deal. I’m just over-wrought today and I overreacted.”

“To what?” James prodded.

“Some guy came up to me and was touching me and asking me how I could go about pleasuring him.”

James let out a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a growl. “Who? Who said that?”

“It doesn’t matter, James.”

“It matters to me. Who?”

She sighed a little. “Bob. Bob who is in construction.”

James hopped off the chair, letting out a string of curses at Bob’s character. Apparently he was all talk and no nothing to show for it and everyone knew he was a slime bucket who just happened to have been lucky enough to inherit and nice chunk of money. James stopped pacing, turned to a shocked Hannah, and his anger immediately deflated.

James’s lip quirked up at one end. “Shall I challenge him to a duel, milady?” he asked, pulling and imaginary sword from his belt and holding it up in the air.

Hannah giggled, marveling at his ability to jump from one mood to another so effortlessly. She wondered how it was that he was still single. Was it by choice? Was he still in the phase of “sowing his wild oats”? Or did his silly arrogance and lackadaisical work ethic turn off the more serious women of his age? He was certainly good looking enough to get any girl he wanted, not to mention charming. She could think of ten women who would love to jump into bed with someone like him.

James raised an eyebrow at her. “Thinking about me naked?” he asked with a smirk.

Hannah’s eyes shot comically open and her cheeks blushed to her hairline. “I was wondering why you were single,” she covered.

“Oh, oh sureee you were,” James laughed.

“Scouts honor,” Hannah sobered.

James shrugged and Hannah felt she had overstepped a line.

“Want me to drive you home?” he asked, suddenly.

“I… um…” she looked at the clock and realized it was already after midnight. “Yeah. I would really appreciate it. I’ll get a cab to bring me here to get my car in the morning.”

James went about gathering her belongings and ushered her out the door through the kitchen so they “didn’t start a scandal”.

He looked over at her snort, “Listen, it’s fine if we want to have an illicit affair, but we cant have it getting around. I have a reputation to defend.” He looked over, fluttering his eyelashes innocently at her.

She laughed and ran behind him as he raced across the lawn. She knew right then that there would never be anything but a goofy comradely between them. And while there may have been a strong initial attraction for both of them… they had too much fun with each other’s company to want to ruin it in any way.

He drove her home and made sure she was safely behind her front door before driving off, back in the direction they came in. Back, she assumed, to the party.

--

Elliott could barely keep his mind on the conversation going on around him. He never should have told her to attend. She looked nothing but uncomfortable all evening. It never occurred to him that she might be shy. In the office, she conversed easily with all the floor staff, his associates, and even the cleaning staff. Maybe she was able to turn on an outgoing personality for work, but in her personal life she didn’t have the same ability.

He watched her circulate the rooms, stopping occasionally to engage in conversations with random guests. She looked utterly charming, but once people realized she wasn’t of value to them, they quickly moved on. She had taken her plate and disappeared to his den. A moment later, James followed her in with a frown.

When Hannah came storming out, anger clearly plastered on her face, he had already started toward her. Then when James was there grabbing her in an aggressive manner… it was all he could do to keep his voice below a shout. James was never someone to put his hands on women and he couldn’t quite accept that he was doing it to her.

And he knew that she lied about a misunderstanding. There was something adorably endearing about how poorly she lied. But there was a pleading on her face as if asking him to let the matter go. So he did.

When he saw her with Bob Tanner for more than a moment or two, his curiosity got peaked and he started over. It wasn’t until he got close that he noticed that Bob had his hands on her and she was holding her body pin straight, leaning away from him. When he joined them, and she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, he fought the urge to play the hero. He chose to sweep her away to the dance floor so she could regain herself and he didn’t create a scene.

He had just gotten used to her soft body in his arms. He felt her curves pressing against him as he guided her across the floor.