Spring Break Fling

Chapter 44

44

HANNAH

T hree weeks in New York, and I was already fantasizing about booking a one-way ticket back to literally anywhere else. I sat at my cubicle under the harsh fluorescent lights of Clarke & Co., surrounded by piles of proposals, mock-ups, and half-empty coffee cups. My eyes burned from staring at my laptop for hours, but I couldn’t stop. The client pitch was in the morning, and Clarke was breathing down my neck to deliver something groundbreaking.

“No pressure,” I muttered to myself, squinting at the screen as the words blurred together.

It was past midnight, and the office was silent except for the hum of the HVAC system. Everyone else had long since gone home, leaving me sad and alone. I sighed and glanced at the time. Five hours until I had to be back here. Great .

I powered down my laptop and grabbed my coat, slumping on my way to the elevator like a zombie. The ride down felt like an eternity.

My phone buzzed. A text from Marianne: “How’s the big city? Surviving?”

I typed back quickly: “Barely. Pitch is tomorrow. Terrified. ”

“You’ve got this,” she responded instantly. “Mom and Dad are proud of you.”

I smiled despite my exhaustion. My parents might drive me crazy sometimes, but they always showed up when it mattered. The time difference was hard to get used to, but it was nice for nights like this when I worked late.

My mind drifted to Nikko as the elevator started its slow descent. That was something else I had to get used to. Working in an office that made me feel like I was hanging out with the clouds. What would he say if he were here? Probably something sarcastic about corporate life, but he’d squeeze my hand and tell me I was going to nail it.

God, I missed him.

I stepped into the lobby of the building. It was eerily quiet. The security guard sat behind his desk, nodding as I walked by. I knew I wasn’t the only one burning the midnight oil in the building. There was a law firm on the twelfth floor and another one on the twenty-first floor. It seemed like those people worked twenty-four hours a day.

When I finally stepped outside, the cool night air hit me like a slap. There was a light rain falling, making it feel even colder. New York cold was different than Boise cold. I was still a little nervous being in the big city alone at night, but I just had to trust I wouldn’t be the one to get mugged.

“Taxi!” I called out, waving my arm.

A yellow cab slowed to a stop. I climbed in and rattled off the address to my temporary home—well, my hotel. Clarke had promised me a luxury condo with a rooftop pool, a gym, and some kind of aromatherapy spa that sounded like a dream. Instead, I was stuck in a cramped hotel room with questionable plumbing and a mini fridge that buzzed loudly enough to drown out my own thoughts.

Living out of a suitcase was getting old fast. I needed to put down roots. I knew this job wasn’t forever, but I would be there long enough that my own space would be invaluable. The hotel room felt like a prison tonight. Nikko had warned me my boss didn’t give a shit about me, and it pissed me off he might be right.

I tossed my bag onto the bed and kicked off my heels, wincing as the muscles in my feet protested. The city lights filtered through the thin curtains, casting long shadows across the generic beige carpet. It would be one thing if he at least put me up in a nice hotel. But no. It was a step above a shit hole.

I was exhausted but I didn’t want to sleep in my business clothes. But I couldn’t bring myself to move. I had been running at full speed for nearly a month straight. Between packing and upending my life and then landing in New York, it felt like I was on a treadmill and couldn’t find the slow-down button.

My eyes closed despite me trying to keep them open. It was my body shutting off my brain and forcing me to sleep.

Nikko was there in my dreams. Not the angry, hurt Nikko who stormed out of my life in Boise, but the Nikko who made me feel like the world could crumble around us and it wouldn’t matter as long as we were together.

We were on a sun-drenched beach, his tattooed arms wrapped around me, his breath warm against my ear. We weren’t talking, just existing in the moment, tangled up in each other like we’d been made to fit this way. His fingers trailed along my jawline as he tilted my head back for a kiss, slow and tender, like he had all the time in the world.

We were stretched out on a blanket, the sand warm beneath us, the sound of waves crashing in the background. His hand slid under my shirt and cupped my breast. I moaned softly and arched my back, pushing my breast into his hand.

He leaned down and kissed me. My whole body tingled. I could feel the sun on my skin and his rough hands exploring every inch of me. He tasted like salt and beer, and it was the most delicious thing I’d ever experienced. His tongue danced with mine, teasing and taunting, driving me crazy. I could feel the blood rushing to my head, the sounds of the beach fading away. The only thing that mattered was him.

I was suddenly naked. The cool breeze washed over my skin. Nikko’s kisses turned desperate. I grabbed at his shoulders and pulled him close. His fingers slid over my heated core. I opened my legs and welcomed his touch. He touched and stroked until I was writhing beneath him.

I gasped as his fingers worked their magic, my mind spiraling into a haze of pleasure. The urgency of his movements reflected the desperation we’d once felt for each other.

When his body moved over mine, it felt like coming home. I was right where I was supposed to be. In his arms being loved by him.

It felt so real, so heartbreakingly real, that when I woke up at six, my heart was pounding and my eyes were wet. I lay there for a moment, staring at the cracked ceiling, trying to shake off the lingering haze of the dream. It had been orgasmic and beautiful. It was less about the pleasure and more about the way I felt in his arms.

I curled up in a ball, tears stinging my eyes. What had I done? I wanted to be in Miami. I wanted to be with him. I threw it away to prove some point. Stupid. Stubborn. Selfish. All of the above.

“Pull it together, Hannah,” I muttered, dragging myself out of bed.

I stumbled into the shower. The hot water felt good against my skin, but it didn’t wash away the memory of his arms around me. My body felt weak. My eyes were scratchy and burning from the lack of sleep.

I showered quickly, trying not to dwell on the fact that Nikko wasn’t there to hold me when I wobbled on my feet. Or give me a pep talk before a big day at work. He was probably asleep or passed out at some grimy bar, surrounded by guys who thought they were so edgy with their tattoos and their faux rebellion.

I ruined everything, I thought as I pulled on a black pencil skirt and blouse and did my makeup in the mirror. It was easier this way, right? Maybe he’d find someone better. Someone who didn’t want to change everything about him to fit into her corporate world.

I grabbed my briefcase and headed outside. Thankfully, Manhattan was not short on coffee stands, trucks, and shops.

I stopped at the nearest one, a little cart draped with fairy lights and an overwhelming aroma of coffee beans roasting. The barista, a wiry man, gave me a nod as I approached .

“Morning, what can I getcha?” he asked in a thick Brooklyn accent. His hands were already poised to make the next order.

“Just a large black coffee, thanks,” I replied, trying to muster a smile.

As he prepared my drink, I stood there taking in the sounds of the city waking up. Horns honked in the distance, the clatter of subway trains echoed from the nearby station, and the chatter of early risers filled the air. It was all so different from Boise—louder, faster, relentless.

“You look like you could use this more than most today,” he quipped.

“You have no idea.” I sighed, accepting the cup gratefully. “You’re doing the lord’s work today.”

I made my way to the office, choosing to walk the short distance. The streets of Manhattan buzzed with early morning energy, but I felt like a ghost floating through the chaos. It was so strange to be surrounded by thousands of people and yet feel completely alone. I felt invisible.

By the time I settled at my desk, other employees began trickling in, sipping their overpriced coffees and chatting about their weekend plans. Nobody so much as glanced in my direction, and the loneliness hit me like a freight train. I missed Miami and Boise. I missed my friends. I missed him .

It felt like people in the office couldn’t care less if I was there or not. I don’t know what I was expecting when I took this job. Maybe it was like Nikko said. I thought I was some big shot. Like I was going to walk into the New York office and be some kind of queen with the other employees looking at me like I was truly royalty.

In Boise, I was the big fish in a small pond. At least in my mind I was. I busted my ass and made something of myself. But here in New York, they looked at me like I was a cockroach that snuck inside the building. Like one of the sewer rats infiltrated their precious office.

I shook it off and dove back into work, burying myself in spreadsheets and pitch decks until the client arrived. We met in a conference room. They were all business, their smiles plastered on like cheap wallpaper as they demanded results from a control group I hadn’t even been informed about.

“Where are the numbers?” one of them snapped, tapping their watch as if that would magically produce data.

My stomach dropped. “I wasn’t given any details about a control group,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Their faces hardened. “This is unacceptable. We don’t have time for amateur hour.”

The words stung, but I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath. “Actually, you’re wasting my time.”

My composure snapped. Chalk it up to lack of sleep, a broken heart, or just general frustration. It didn’t matter.

I was done.

The room went silent. The lead client raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

I stood up, feeling a strange sense of peace wash over me. “I’ve been killing myself for weeks, jumping through hoops for people who don’t respect my work or my time. And for what? A pat on the head? More demands. No thanks. I quit.”

Panic flickered across their faces. “You can’t quit! Your company needs this account. Clarke was clear about that.”

“Then maybe you can call him and rake him over the coals for no reason. I’m not sitting here for this.” I pulled off my name badge and placed it neatly on the table. “Bye.”

The clients sputtered and scrambled to stop me, but I was already out the door. I felt light, like I’d just shed a thousand pounds of stress. My suitcase was practically packed.

It shouldn’t have taken me this long to realize the truth, but better late than never. I knew exactly where I needed to go.