Sweet Twins For My Brother's Best Friend: An Enemies To Lovers Romance (The Sweet Twins Collection)

Chapter Forty Three

Hannah

Even though Chris is still in the house, I pull out my key ring and relish locking the door as I leave. A little tingle rushes through my body at the act. It feels almost intimate and I’m grateful that Chris seemed to understand my need to do that.

Lucy and I hop into the car together, and I roll down the car window for her as I drive toward the office.

Lucy’s tongue whips in the wind as if it isn’t a part of her, her chin balancing against the glass. I reach over with my right hand and pet her back while she relaxes, feeling the hot sun on her black fur.

It’s not the first time I realize that I’m having a moment that I have had every day for quite some time but which will likely soon be a thing of the past.

Once there are two car seats in the back and Chris next to me, Lucy won’t get to ride in the car with me as often. Even if she does, it likely won’t be just me and Lucy on our own very often after the babies arrive.

The realization hits me hard, and tears fill my eyes as I continue to drag my hand down her back, feeling the knobs of her spine under her thick blanket of short hairs.

When we arrive at the office, Lucy rushes to the front door of the office, panting excitedly. She jumps up at it, her front feet scraping at the glass and her ears bouncing with her every move.

“Lucy, little thing, did you miss this place?”

Again, tears spring to my eyes as an awareness sinks in that I’ve deprived her of the home she’s now known for a while.

Just because I know Chris’ space is bigger doesn’t mean she understands that it’s better for us to be there.

These babies are making you emotional, I laugh to myself, rubbing her ears between my fingers. I pull them back into an ear ponytail, which used to make me laugh but now only makes me feel tender feelings for her.

“You are so beautiful, Lucy, you know that?” I squat down so that I’m eye level with her and touch my nose to her wet nose, looking into her black eyes, seeing the sun glint specks of orange in them. I feel emotional over her short black eyelashes and her gentle expression.

I open the door and let her bounce around, sniffing the walls and floors and furniture. I sit down at my computer and open up the financial information that I already have on Chris’ gym.

I highlight the transactions that look shady and know that I’ll eventually get the more detailed spreadsheet from Chris.

Finally, I open up a map of California and look up what cities have the most gyms in the state.

I also check which cities in the country have the most gyms and which locations have the most active members.

I hold my fingertip between my teeth, nibbling on my nail, before leaning forward and replacing it with the back of my pen.

I’m inclined to say that what makes Chris so successful is Chris, but I know that there’s more that goes into it than that.

It’s hard to be impartial, though. Chris is successful because he’s kind, thoughtful, ambitious, friendly, and knowledgeable, true, but Chris is also successful because of his location and his design choices and the employees he hires.

Chris is successful because of all of the choices, both big and small, that he makes for his business.

I’m not in marketing. He’ll have to make those choices himself. All I can help him with is making sure he does it all by the book.

I look into the differences between doing his taxes for a business in a few other possible countries and doing his taxes for a business in another state and open up a new document to annotate and highlight the differences between those options.

My phone buzzes and I see the screen flash with Chris’ name, so I swipe on it and answer as I read my emails and answer the people whose questions are simple. “Hey, are you on your way?”

“I was just thinking – what if instead of punishing Sarah, we let her work off her debt by working for me for free?”

My head spins at the suggestion. “Yeah, so as your CPA, I would have to advise against that.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one, and I’m not a lawyer, but it seems like that could be considered blackmail or extortion or something, right?”

“Then let’s ask a lawyer.”

I laugh dryly. “Chris, no lawyer is going to tell you hire someone who stole hundreds of thousands of dollars from you and just pay them less this time. She owes you a couple of luxury cars worth of money. Let’s just let the authorities take care of it. Okay? Seriously.”

“Well, here’s what I’m thinking. We’ll send her to open the new location. We won’t put her in charge of the finances again, of course, she lost that right. But we’ll put her in charge of the new location’s opening, and we just don’t give her a salary.”

“The salary that would have been, what, $50,000? It’s just not enough to be worth it, Chris,” I tell him, utterly confused about his insistence that he do this ridiculous thing.

Quietly, he mutters, “She called me, Hannah. She begged me to do this, said she was sorry about what she’d done and couldn’t take the guilt of it.”

I feel bile rise in my throat at the idea of Sarah working for him again, getting another chance to betray him and hurt him. I just want him to focus on people that won’t let him down and things that fulfill him.

“And you told her yes?”

“I told her I would think about it and talk to you, but I wanted to say yes,” he corrects me, his voice an embarrassed murmur.

“Well, you can’t, Chris. I say that as your CPA, your girlfriend, and the mother of your children. You cannot let this woman do this to you. Why would you even want to?”

I put my phone on speaker and look for what snacks are left in the kitchen. I find a string cheese and peel open the plastic as Chris mans the silence expertly, breathing lightly into the phone.

“Because. I don’t know. It just seems like there’s no room for bitterness in this new life.”

I laugh. “Then forgive her. Don’t put her in the driver’s seat. Listen, let me tell you what I think is happening. You have a lot of relationships that are tenuous right now, and it’s got you thinking of the past. But instead of facing the person that you really need to face, you’re forgiving the person who’s easier to forgive.”

“Who’s the person I really need to face then?”

I can’t believe he really needs me to say it, but his denial is so thick that I’m not sure he can honestly see it for himself. The name comes out like a heavy sigh: “Julie.”