9. Hannah
Chapter nine
Hannah
A round four o'clock on Saturday, the doorbell rings. Confused, I answer it to see a beautiful young woman on my porch, sporting a wide smile.
She shoves her hand out to me for a shake.
"Good afternoon, Hannah. I'm Amelia, Matty's cousin. He told me to come babysit your kids tonight so he can take you to the club. He says he'll be here in an hour to pick you up."
I stare at Amelia, shocked and confused. I take her hand and shake it before she laughs and pulls out her phone.
"I have my bachelor's in child behavioral science, and am CPR, and first aid certified. Here's my portfolio on Care.com and three references if you'd like to look me up before you agree." She laughs easily. "I told Matty he was crazy, but he insisted."
My phone dings with text messages from an unknown number, with a link to a profile and three contacts.
I shake my head. "I'm not sure I can afford a babysitter, for three kids for a few hours?"
Amelia shakes her head and waves a hand dismissively. "Matty's already paid, whether you hire me or not."
Disbelieving, I shake my head. These men owe me nothing, but they've done more and been more to me and my kids in the past two weeks than my own husband has been in a decade.
"Come inside."
Jack comes bounding over to see the new woman. Amelia kneels quickly and says, "You must be Jack!" She offers him a fist bump. "Matty told me you were the coolest kid in the world," she leans forward and loudly whispers, "and to let you have ice cream before dinner."
Jack's eyes widen in surprise. I can't help but chuckle myself.
"Aiden, Vivian, can you guys come here please?" I shout.
Viv comes down the stairs and Aiden peaks his head out of the living room.
"Hi! I'm Amelia!" She says brightly. I can't help but like her, but I'm so shocked at the idea of leaving my children with a babysitter and going to a club.
"Can I have a minute to think about it?" I ask her.
"Sure!"
"Let me show you the house!" Jack shouts, tugging at her hand and giving her the tour.
I sit at the dining room table, staring at my phone. Matty had mentioned taking me to the club, but could I really leave my kids with a babysitter? Amelia's reviews on Care.com are all glowing, and I trust Matty. He wouldn't send someone he didn't trust. Could I really go out? Go dancing?
I really wanted to, but my default setting for so many years has been one of self-sacrificing. Could I really take back control? Could I be selfish for a night? I want to set a good example for my kids, but have I been doing that? Are they going to grow up with the image of motherhood being a constant state of barely surviving? Do I want Viv to grow up to be like me as a mother? No. I'd want her to be fulfilled, to charge her battery frequently so she can pour more into her children. Something I've been woefully terrible at.
My own mother hired a nanny the moment I was born, even though she never worked.
There had to be a middle ground. One where I can recharge my own battery AND be the best mom I can be.
Decided, I call the contacts Amelia gave me and am unsurprised when they can't say enough good things about her.
People hire babysitters all the time. I can do this.
When Jack and Amelia return from the backyard, I gather everyone in the living room.
"Alright guys, Amelia here's going to babysit you while I go out with my friends." I want to ask them if that's okay, I need the validation that they'll be okay. But new Hannah sets boundaries with her family. Loving boundaries where she can recharge her battery.
Jack shouts with excitement. Viv slides up next to Amelia, peering up at her.
"Sweet!" Amelia shouts. "We're going to have so much fun together! Do you guys want to bake some cookies?"
Aiden and Viv perk up at the prospect of sugar, before heading into the kitchen.
"Go get ready, Mama. We've got it from here." She says with an easy wink.
I take a steadying breath in and out before heading back upstairs to get ready.
I have nothing to wear. I haven't been 'out' to anything that wasn't formal since before I got married. I'm not even sure where my makeup is.
I go through all of the clothes in my wardrobe three times before I say 'fuck it'. I throw a large cardigan over an undershirt and some yoga pants. I'm not going out to impress anyone, I'm going out for me, to have fun. I can do that in a cardigan as easily as I can in a dress.
A few moments later the doorbell rings again and Matty's voice comes up the stairs. I can't help the excited butterflies that swarm in my chest.
I'm really doing this.
Matty stands at the bottom of the stairs, looking as gorgeous as ever in a deep blue suit. He's got Jack's hands in his and crouches a little to let Jack step on his knee and flip over backward.
When he sees me, though, he crouches down next to Jack and whispers loudly. "Look how beautiful your mother is."
Jack looks up at me and beams. I can't help but blush. No one but my kids have called me beautiful in such a long time. My eyes pinch with grateful tears, but I shake them loose and walk up to Matty, giving him a grateful hug.
Matty pulls my body flush against his and my cheeks heat again. He's warm, and hard, and smells amazing. It doesn't take much for my imagination to strip us of our clothes. I'd love the feel of his naked skin against mine.
Whew. Slow down there.
All three men have shown interest in some form or another, but I'm still a married woman. And it's ridiculous to think the three hottest men I've ever seen would be interested in a curvy almost 40 mom. But when I pull back from Matty, there's nothing but heat in his eyes. And Rico stroked my ankle, which is not exactly something friends do.
At least those two are my age. Santiago's a good ten years younger than me. He could get any woman, even with his lack of speech. The man breathed sex appeal and danger. Any woman would be lucky to have him.
"You're chariot awaits," Matty says, dramatically bowing.
Matty hugs Amelia before we leave. "By Little Pita."
"Little Pita?" I ask.
Amelia laughs. "He's called my bigger sister Big Pita and me Little Pita since we were kids."
"Why's that?" Jack asks, always curious.
"PITA stands for Pain In The..." Matty starts, before looking at Jack. "Butt."
"But Butt starts with a B, not an A."
Matty chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. "Sometimes it starts with an A, Little Man." He says and ruffles Jack's hair.
I give each of my kids a hug and a kiss and tell them to text me if they have any issues whatsoever and I'll come right home.
I'm still nervous about leaving them, but it would be really good to have someone to rely on if I want to do something like this more than once. And to have one more person in my kids' lives that they can trust.
Matty walks to the passenger door of a bright green Ferrari and I can't help but laugh. Of course, he would drive this thing.
The drive into the city is short, and halfway, Matty reaches over and leisurely runs the back of his forefinger up and down the outside of my thigh, as if he subconsciously has to touch me. The gesture reminds me of Rico at soccer practice and I can't help but smile.
Matty tells me all about the club he runs with Rico. He helped him pick out the location - in a multistory bank from the 1800s. Each floor has a slightly different theme and DJ. It was meant to be just a front for their money laundering and illegal activities, but it's a resounding success as a club, and they could retire on its income alone. He helped design each floor and I can hear the pride in his voice.
So I tell him how incredible it sounds, and how incredible he is.
He beams at the praise, his wide grin popping out his dimples and making my insides squirm.
I wonder if he has a praise kink. I laugh to myself a little, wondering in what scenario I can call him a 'good boy' to gauge his reaction.
When we pull up to the club, a line of party-goers is already lined up in front and wrapped around the block.
Matty pulls up to the curb, gets out, and tosses his keys at a bouncer. There's no valet, but he's the manager, so I guess he gets special treatment. I get out to join him but he's looking down at me with a mix between a frown and a pout on his face.
"What's wrong?" I ask, suddenly nervous.
"I wanted to open the door for you."
I can't help but laugh out loud. I thought it was something serious. I grab his bicep and loop my arm with his.
"I'm sorry. Next time."
I'm suddenly very aware of everyone in the line staring. Some of them recognize Matty, and they shoot me curious looks. We must look strange - Matty in his high-end tailored suit, me in an oversized cardigan. Matty all tall and gorgeous, me all short and frumpy.
But tonight, I said 'fuck it'. I'm here for me, not how we look or what others might think. It's liberating. I've been so concerned with what other moms think about me and how I reflect Alan, I'd developed terrible anxiety any time I left the house.
The fake friendly looks from the other moms in the parent pickup lanes. Sally down the road, always out running and skinny as ever. My mother's sometimes passive-aggressive, sometimes outrightly aggressive comments on my weight or appearance.
But old Hannah didn't ask if she was good enough for the world. Old Hannah asked if the world was good enough for her. And tonight I'm stepping out as Old Hannah. Old Hannah, New Hannah, Hannah reborn.
I strut proudly through the doors the bouncers hold open for us with my head held high. I have the hottest guy in here on MY arm. Well, one of the three hottest.
"Are Santiago and Rico here?"
Matty nods and smiles at someone as we pass by them. "Yep. Rico's waiting for you at the bar and Santiago's downstairs."
"What's downstairs?"
"Not something someone as sweet as you should worry about." He says with a smile and wink. I take it to mean mafia business so I leave it alone. I can understand their hesitancy to let me fully in. We've known each other for all of a few weeks. The fact that they were thinking of letting me into their opponent's financials was a step, but it's not letting me into their financials.
We enter what I imagine was the foyer when this building was still a bank. It's large and open, and marble lines the floor as well as the wall. In the middle is a reverse horseshoe-shaped counter that must have been where the bank tellers worked out of. Currently, it's a bar.
In the middle of the horseshoe is a woman in a cage. Wearing a sexy prisoner's uniform and dancing provocatively, a sexy nod to the history of the building.
"Matty! This is amazing!!" I coo, taking in the scene and looking at everything around me. Patrons clamber around us, eager to get inside and drink and dance.
To the left is a room where they held safety deposit boxes, the copper boxes still lining all three walls, but with lighting that is bright and modern. One bar is set up along one long side and high-top tables scatter the rest of the location, giving patrons a place to talk away from the noise if that's their vibe.
Matty chats with one of the bartenders, while I hold onto his arm and take in the sights around me. He really is brilliant. I can see why this is one of the top clubs in the city. It perfectly combines the glamor of the 20s with modern aesthetic, with lighting that makes everyone look good, a fun festive feel, and hot bartenders.
Everything about it was thought through carefully and masterfully executed.
I'm irrationally proud of Matthew Richardson. I tug on his lapel and lean up on my toes.
"This is amazing. I'm so proud of you, Matthew."
I feel a shiver run through him and he closes his eyes. Definitely a praise kink .
"Who's the pretty lady on your arm, boss?" The hot 20-something bartender asks.
"Hi! I'm Hannah!" I say brightly, holding out my hand for him. He finishes up the cocktail he's working on, and hands it to a waiting patron, before shaking my hand.
"You'll get your hands off my girl if you want to keep your job, Benjamin." Matty growls, his voice surprisingly low and menacing. It takes me off guard. Matty's always been bright, bubbly, and playful. But the murder in his eyes backs up his tone.
Benjamin lets the threat roll off his shoulders. "Bossman, you know I'm gay. I've hit on you enough that you should know I don't play for the same team."
I can't help but like Benjamin, and I can't help but laugh at the awkward tension.
Just then a warm hand finds my lower back. I go to move away from it and towards Matty when I smell him. Cedar and fresh rain.
"Hello, mami. Did you like your gift?"
I turn, excitedly, towards Rico. Amelia may have been Matty's cousin and he may have paid her, but I instinctively know that the gift of a babysitter came from all three of them.
I jump up and wrap my arms around him. "Yes!"
I pull back, suddenly shy, and tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear. "I was nervous at first, but most people have babysitters, and I thought I deserved a night out. I really do appreciate it all. It'll take me a minute to be fully comfortable, but I appreciate the gesture."
"What can I get you to drink? Matty doesn't drink, so he's your DD."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course," he says, waving a hand in the air to get Benjamin's attention. "One whiskey on the rocks for me, and a..."
"Rum and coke?"
"... for the lady."
"Yessir," Ben says before spinning around, shooting us an incredible view of his backside, before making us our drinks.
Rico's hand never leaves the small of my back.
Another man, smaller and younger, comes up to Matty and whispers in his ear something urgent. Matty rolls his eyes and groans.
"Can you take care of her for a minute? There's a payment dispute with a vendor that needs management." He says as if he couldn't be more annoyed.
"Of course."
Matty kisses my cheek before following the new guy past the safety deposit box room and into a door labeled "staff".
I take a sip of my drink and revel in the sweet and strong feel of it.
Rico presses against my lower back, having picked up his own drink, and directs me towards the back. Behind the horseshoe bar is a small opening covered with a thick red velvet curtain.
Rico leans towards me. "I don't dance. Matty does, but I don't. However, Santiago's fighting downstairs. Want to go watch?"
Fighting? Why is he fighting? Suddenly, I'm overcome with nerves. I want to protect Santiago. If someone's hurting him, I want to protect him and hurt them back, but Rico's vibe is utterly calm.
Rico presses me through the curtain and to the right where a small stairwell exists. Two bouncers stand on either side, their large arms folded over their chest. They nod as we approach and we walk down it together, sipping on our drinks.
At the bottom of the stairs, the room opens up and I can see the round opening where the vault was. The vault door is open, though, and inside I can hear shouting. As we approach I can see a boxing ring, elevated in the middle of the room. There's a small crowd standing around the ring and several tables and chairs on the outskirts for people who want to casually watch fights.
In the ring are two men, glistening with sweat. One I recognize immediately as Santiago. My tongue catches in my throat. I thought he was devastatingly handsome before, but shirtless, with every inch of broad muscle on display, slick with sweat? It's better than porn. I'm mesmerized by the way his muscles bunch and flex, the command he has of his body is impressive. He's clearly a lethal athlete.
His opponent goes to swipe his legs out from underneath him and I can't stop my reaction.
"Santi!" I scream, trying to warn him. Except it has the opposite effect. His wide eyes find mine immediately, distracting him and leaving him vulnerable to the leg sweep. Santiago goes down hard and his opponent takes advantage, surging forward and straddling him, laying punch after punch. Santiago raises his arms to cover his face and I rush forward, ready to throw myself into the match.
Rico holds me back, though. A chuckle vibrates from his chest through my back.
Then, Santiago does this crazy cool move where he cartwheels his legs up underneath his opponent's shoulders and chest, pushes him off of him, and reverses the positions. Now Santiago 's on top, pummeling his opponent.
I can't help but shout my encouragement, garnering the attention of a handful of men around us. That's when I realize I'm the only woman here.
I'm vaguely aware of it, but the rest of my attention is on Santiago and if he's okay. The refs pull him off of his opponent and raise his fist in victory. His eyes find mine again. He's sweaty, bleeding from his eyebrow, shirtless, and fuck if I've never been so turned on. The pure and raw masculinity of it all has me vibrating with need.
Santiago and his opponent shake hands and exit the arena, but are caught in a sea of admiring patrons.
Rico cages me in, pressing me against the wall until all I can see, feel, and smell are him.
"Bare-knuckle boxing too much for your suburban domesticity?"
I know it's a challenge. He's seeing if or when I could fit into his life.
"Are you kidding? That's hot as fuck. You could make a killing charging women a premium to watch hot men pummel each other."
Unfortunately, my taunt hits its mark. His hand shoots to my neck and he holds it gently, pinning me to the wall. The feeling of being so completely and utterly at his mercy has heat flooding to my core. Without thinking, my eyes flutter shut and I bite my lip to suppress a moan. He could breathe on me and I'd combust. But this is wrong. I'm still married, even if it is to a lying, cheating piece of shit.
Rico leans forward and I'm afraid he's going to kiss me.
"Rico," I whisper as a warning, my eyes wide and fearful. If he kisses me, I won't stop him. I won't stop him, but I'll hate myself for it afterward.
Instead, he leans forward and whispers into the shell of my ear, "My little soccer mom's not so vanilla, is she? You like me choking you. If I were to reach into your panties right now, how wet for me would you be?"
A shiver rolls through my body and I whimper.
"I...I can't. I'm still married. I'm not a cheater."
"Leave him."
"You know I can't."
He leans back, releasing my neck, right as Santiago finally joins us. He's still shirtless and I can't help but ogle every inch of sweaty muscle. He's built, with deep valleys lining large, hard muscles.
I lick my lips, and pinch my thighs together, hopelessly turned on, which earns a growl from Rico.
I shake my head.
"I know!" I shout, excited about the possibilities.
"Give me a job at your club! I can bartend. I mean, it won't be a lot of money after I pay for a sitter, but it would be mine."
"No." He growls, glaring at me through narrowed eyes.
"Please?” I asked sweetly, in a singsong voice, sliding up next to him and running my hand up and down his chest.
“My woman is not going to be a bartender. I don’t need men ogling you all night. You’re mine. My woman doesn’t need to work for tips. What kind of man would that make me?” He was serious now, he grabs my hand to stop it.
"Your woman?" My saliva catches in my throat and I'm suddenly nervous.
He ignores me.
I'm disappointed. I can’t argue with him, though. It's Matty's club and Rico's mafia business. They can hire or fire whoever they want to, and he did have a point. It would look like a weakness to others if I was his girl. But am I his girl?
"Oh! But what if we did ladies' nights and brought in the female population to watch the fights? Could your bouncer maybe keep a tally of the women that come in? That way we would know how much money the women bring in. If I have an income, I can finally leave Alan!" I plead with him with my eyes, hoping he can see the sincerity in them.
I know it's foolish to be so hopeful, but I can't help myself. I'd resigned myself to being trapped by that asshole for the rest of my life. I had my kids and my home and we were provided for, but his presence in our lives is toxic. After years, I'd just accepted that this was going to be my life until the kids moved out.
Now, with a way to make money that didn't cut into my time with my kids, hope spread through my chest like a wildfire.
Without missing a beat, Rico nods. "Draw up the paperwork with Matty and it's yours." I can't help but squeal and jump into his arms. I pull him tight against me, blinking away happy tears.
"Thank you," I whisper into the fabric of his shirt. He runs his hands up and down my back soothingly, seeming to understand the whirlwind of emotions going through me.
"And then with a contract in place, whenever this ends, I'll still have a source of income."
His hand stills.
"What makes you think this is going to end?" He asks, his voice still and chilling.
I pull back to look up at him and roll my eyes a little.
"Oh, come on Rico. What is someone like you doing with someone like me anyway?"
"Someone like me?" He repeats, and it sends nerves skittering around my body as if I'm walking on a tightrope, or edging into a minefield.
"You're gorgeous and fit and wealthy, you could have any girl you want. What are you doing with a frumpy, dull housewife?" I look around to find Santiago and Matty but they're not there. "I figure you're interested because I'm different than what you're used to, but you can't possibly think whatever this is will last..."
He narrows his eyes and growls at me again. He rocks his hips forward, letting me feel the length of his hard erection.
"Look, I don't know what you see when you look at yourself, but I see a smart, hardworking woman, sacrificing her life to make sure her family has the very best of everything. And that is sexy."
I look at him dumbfounded. My brain short-circuits while I try to comprehend what he has said. I have only ever looked at myself with disgust and despair, only noticing where I had failed, how fat I was, how ugly. But he sees me in a completely different way. He sees me as sexy. He sees what I do and who I am as something he desires.
“I look at a woman like that and wonder…what she would sacrifice for me. And if I’m worth sacrificing anything for."
When I finally release him, I notice almost a dozen men staring at us. Like with Matty, I'm sure we look strange. A frumpy stay-at- home mom hugging a dangerous mafia kingpin. I can't help but laugh the nerves away.
Just then Matty claps Rico on the shoulder and joins our little group. He holds his hand out to me to take and I do.
"Let's go dancing!"