Chapter 15
HANNAH
I’m staring into the fridge trying to convince myself that a handful of carrots will taste as good as what’s left of my white chocolate chip stash. I’m not even hungry, just looking for a distraction.
I grab the carrots and the white chocolate chips. Not a tasty combination but I can practically see my grandmother smiling at me approvingly.
Before I can start up the stairs, a knock sounds on the door. I hesitate. Maybe I’m hearing things? Who the heck could be here this late? Kids doorbell ditching? Or, I suppose in this scenario, door-knock ditching.
When the quiet thumping happens again, I walk over and stand on my tiptoes to see out the peephole. Whoever designed them should have considered short people. It’s way easier for a tall person to bend down than a short person to grow a few more inches.
Hoping it’s not a serial killer (thanks, Wren, for putting those thoughts in my head) or a solicitor (seems like a terrible time to pitch people on a magazine subscription but is there a good time, really?), I unlock and open the door.
“Travis.” Proximity makes him the most likely person to stop by at this hour unannounced, but he’s honestly the last person I expected. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi.” He lets his gaze rake over me quickly. I don’t know how he does it, checking me out in a way that always feels appreciative instead of sleazy.
I’m not sure that I manage to keep my stare as friendly.
He’s in athletic pants again—these ones are red—and a black T-shirt.
I’ve seen Travis dressed up a few times and those were great looks, don’t get me wrong (still drooling about the rolled sleeves of his white T-shirt in Vegas), but there’s something about him like this, casual and comfortable (and slightly wrinkly), that makes me want to know the guy underneath all the charm and smiles.
A thought I should probably abandon now that we’re…I can’t even say the word.
“The paperwork is ready,” he says, pulling my gaze up from his forearms. “We can drop by as early as tomorrow to sign everything.”
Relief sweeps through me. “Really?”
He nods, jaw clenching.
“Thank you so much.” It’s a huge weight off my shoulders that he took care of it.
My stomach has been in one giant pretzel knot since Vegas.
Every time I searched for a lawyer or imagined explaining to the person on the phone why I was calling, it made my stomach twist tighter. “How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t be silly. I can cover my half.” Is going halfsies on an annulment the standard? Like splitting the check at dinner?
He shakes his head and his lips turn down at the corners. “It’s the least I can do, considering this was my fault.”
Was it? I don’t remember enough to know if that’s true, but I can’t think of many scenarios that would place all the blame on him. Before I can say as much, he adds, “It’s already taken care of anyway.”
I won’t pretend that it isn’t another relief to have it paid for.
I’m barely going to be able to pay gym and coaching fees this month.
And that was before Wren sent me her last college bill.
Our parents left us with enough in savings to cover part of her college.
She also has two scholarships, but with increased tuition and housing fees, it still hasn’t been enough the last two semesters.
“Thank you. Money is really tight right now. Between losing the sponsorship money, the increased coaching fees, and my sister dropped another tuition payment on me literally yesterday.” I take a deep breath.
“What I’m trying to say is if I had to get drunk and married in Vegas, I’m glad it was with you. ”
“Me too.” His lips curve up for a second and then resume their frown.
He lingers on my doorstep, not quite making eye contact.
“Well, good night.” I take a step back and grab the doorknob.
His eyes blink into focus and he nods. “Yeah, you too, Hannah.”
I close the door, but before it clicks into place, he throws out one arm to stop me.
“Wait.” His brown eyes spark with some unnamed emotion. “Forget everything I just said.”
“You aren’t going to pay for the annulment?” There goes that vise grip on my stomach again.
“Let’s not get one at all or…” He looks almost tortured. “Go out with me, at the very least.”
“You want to stay married, so I’ll go out with you?”
“When you say it like that it sounds so pathetic.” He offers me a small grin. “I like you and I know I probably screwed everything up, but if you give me another chance, I won’t blow it this time.”
It might be the nicest, most bizarre way someone has tried to ask me out. Scratch that, it’s definitely the most bizarre. And the nicest?
“You didn’t blow it,” I tell him. If anyone did, it was me. It was my decision to drink too much and throw caution to the wind.
He tips his chin down and gives me an expression that calls bullshit.
“Listen, I’m not in a place to date right now.
I’m barely holding things together with the new training regimen and settling into a new place.
All my remaining emotional availability goes to Wren.
Our parents died when we were young so I’m responsible for her.
Getting involved with so much happening wouldn’t be fair to you.
” I don’t know why I’m dropping all this on him now, but it feels important to me that he knows I’m not turning him down easily.
His mouth opens like he’s going to argue.
“Trust me. I’m doing you a favor.”
Saturday afternoon, I meet Travis at the lawyer’s office as planned. The lobby is all white marble and gold accents. An attractive man in a suit sits behind the curved desk (also white) to the right of the entry doors.
“Good afternoon,” he says, all polite and cheery. Somehow that makes my nerves increase.
“We’re here to see Bill Hughes,” Travis says.
“Third floor.” His smile is big and as blindingly white as the marble.
Travis thanks him and then places a hand at my back to lead me toward the elevators. My heels clack and echo in a quick rhythm with my pulse.
“Relax.” Travis punches the button for the third floor and the steel doors close me in with him.
“I’m relaxed,” I squeak out.
He grins. “Liar.”
I let out a whoosh of air, which does make a little more room for calm thoughts. As the elevator whirrs and starts up, my phone rings.
“Sorry,” I say, reaching into my purse to silence it. “It’s probably…”
I don’t get out Wren’s name before I see who it is. “Everly.”
“Everything okay?” Travis asks as I continue to stare at the screen but not answer it.
“Yeah. I’m sure it’s nothing.” I drop it back into my purse and the doors open onto the third floor.
The white and gold theme continues up here but the cubicles that stretch out in the middle of the floor make it feel less intimidating. There’s a receptionist desk but it’s unmanned. In fact, there isn’t anyone up here at all as far as I can see.
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” I ask Travis at the same time a deep voice calls out, “Bennett!”
I whirl in time to see an impeccably dressed man with salt and pepper hair walking our way with a smile.
Travis steps forward to greet him. “Hey, Bill. Nice to see you again.”
“Same.” Bill’s gaze moves to me. “And you must be Hannah.”
“Hi.” I stretch out a hand for him and he shakes it with a nod.
He leads us to a large conference room with a giant white table in the center. The lights flicker on automatically as we step inside.
There is water and a fruit platter laid out beside a stack of papers. An annulment with snacks. Classy.
“I have everything ready to go. Just sign and I’ll take care of the rest,” Bill says. He looks down at the papers and frowns, then checks the pocket inside his jacket. “A pen would be helpful, huh? Be right back.”
I pluck a strawberry from the tray and shove it into my mouth. Travis watches me with amusement in his gaze.
“Why do I get the feeling lawyers make you nervous?” he asks me.
“Isn’t that true for everyone?”
He shrugs. “Maybe.”
“But not you.”
“I grew up talking to the family lawyer weekly.”
“Is Bill your dad or something?”
He chuckles. “No, not Bill. My uncle is a lawyer and my grandfather was too.”
“Oh, I see.” I turned my phone to silent, but I can hear the buzzing again. I pull it out while we wait. Everly again.
“Take it,” Travis says. “Bill won’t mind.”
“No.” I shake my head. Then Everly sends a text in shouty caps, CALL ME!
“I’ll be quick,” I assure him as I stand and move to the corner of the massive room to call her.
She answers immediately.
“Hannah. Thank god, I caught you. Where are you?” Everly’s words tumble together like she’s stressed but, then again, she always talks fast.
“Umm.” I keep my voice low. “I’m at an appointment with a lawyer.”
I glance up as Bill returns. He hands Travis a pen as he says something and then the two guys are smiling and talking, giving me a small semblance of privacy.
I don’t keep much from Everly. Personal and business blur together too often, but I had not planned on telling her this until I had taken care of it.
I take a breath. “Okay, don’t freak out but I kind of sort of—
“Got married?”
My jaw falls open. “How did you know?”
“Marriage certificates are public record. I got a Google alert about five minutes ago on your name.”
I swallow and focus on moving air in and out of my lungs, like I’m learning to breathe for the first time.
“So far it’s only a couple of small gossip and sports sites that have picked it up, but it won’t be long before others decide to run it.”
“Why?” I only get the one word out, but Everly understands.
“Travis is one of the league’s top hockey players, in addition to being well-known outside of the sport for being, well, hot. But I guess I don’t need to tell you that.”
I groan.
Everly continues. “And you’re a—”
“Nobody,” I mutter.
Her voice goes stern. “You’re an up-and-coming gymnast that people are rooting for. You might not have his stats or popularity but people like you. Your story is inspiring.”
Debatable, considering I haven’t done anything yet.
“It was a drunken Vegas thing,” I admit. “We’re signing the annulment paperwork now.”
She makes a sound that I can’t decipher precisely but I know isn’t pleased.
“What?”
“Listen. I’d normally tell you to sign the papers and stay quiet until the interest in you two blows over, but I think this might be one of those perfect storms of celebrity and intrigue.”
“Meaning?”
“I think curiosity is only going to grow. Right now, it’s all happy and supportive but if you turn around and annul it as fast as people find out…”
“It’ll fan the flames.”
“Yes.”
“And everyone will think I’m a flaky bitch.”
She chuckles softly. “I wouldn’t go that far, but we both know that women tend to face more backlash than men for the same missteps.”
I look across the room to Travis. He’s still talking with Bill but meets my gaze. Everly’s right. If public opinion is going to turn on one of us, it’s going to be me.
“I’ll reach out to my publicist immediately to craft some statements that take accountability while still maintaining your reputation,” Everly says with more confidence than I feel. “You’re human. People will understand.”
“People but maybe not sponsors.”
Fuck. Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck.
“The right sponsor will. Leave it to me. I have two more meetings lined up for Monday. Who knows, maybe the newfound attention will help.”
Or it could scare them off. Again. I squeeze my eyes shut and rub my forehead with two fingers. I think I feel a headache coming on.
“I have to jump on another call,” Everly says. “I’ll check in later, but for now if anyone contacts you directly, just forward them to me. And if you need anything, let me know.”
Bill is gone from the conference room when I hang up with Everly. Travis is facing me but staring down at his own phone. As I get close, he looks up. A smile pulls at the corners of his mouth but it’s unconvincing. “Ready to divorce me?”
“Yes, but before we do, you should know that the news about us is out.” It feels like such a weird thing to say out loud. I have a decent social media following but I’m usually a byline in an article about other gymnasts.
He nods. “I was afraid of that.”
“You were?”
“Marriage certificates are a matter of public record.”
How is it that everyone else knows that but not me? Perhaps because I never, not once, considered that I’d get married and not want people to know.
“Is your agent freaking out?” he asks.
“She says she isn’t but, yeah, I think so. Will yours?”
“Nah.” He doesn’t sound very convincing. Travis tips his head toward the papers. “Shall we?”
I don’t move and his brows lift slightly.
“What if…” I start and then can’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
“If you don’t want to do this today, we can come back another time,” he assures me.
This is crazy. He paid the lawyer, and the paperwork is right there.
But the thought of doing one more thing that could potentially wreck my career has me second-guessing everything.
Travis looks at me, so patient and kind. “What do you want to do?”