11. There is Always Time for a Cabaret
11
THERE IS ALWAYS TIME FOR A CABARET
One of the benefits of travelling with a smaller group meant that Hanna could structure the itinerary around unique group requests, not just large tourist hotspots.
The average age of the group and wealth meant that they also lacked the hectic rush of college students trying to frantically squeeze every drop of time out of the trip so that they would not miss anything.
As someone who stayed in enough hostels, packed their own food, and crammed days off with endless hours of exploration to make the most of the time she had, Hanna could appreciate the relaxed days Hazel and her friends enjoyed.
Choosing to breakfast in their suite most mornings, Hazel, Lillian, Mai, and Daphne were in no rush to leave early, which worked in their favor since most places in the city did not open until at least 9 a.m. Since his grandmother and her friends ate in their room, Hanna was surprised to find Noah in the hotel dining room each morning.
They ate together and the conversation flowed easily, primarily focused on stories of their work and travel, learning more about each other’s preferences and habits.
.
After the art-focused first days of their trip, Hanna scheduled something that was unique to Daphne’s interests.
They spent the day learning how to make macarons at a patisserie operated by the same family for over two hundred years.
Relaxing after the sugar-high, the group was now preparing for one of the most anticipated activities on their agenda.
“A kiss on the hand might be quite continental,” Mai sang as she wheeled over to where Hanna was waiting in the lobby.
“But diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” the other three sang in unison, their giddy laughter jumbling the words together happily.
All four women were dressed up for the evening, wearing knee length dresses that swayed against their legs and caught the light as they danced in place.
Perhaps they were already tipsy, but if there was any place to arrive inebriated, it was the cabaret.
With a jacket folded over one arm, Noah shook his head in amusement as he walked toward them, shoes clacking against the tiled floor.
He looked especially dashing in a shirt the same color as his eyes and a charcoal vest. “You know we are not going to the Moulin Rouge from the movie, right?”
Hazel waved him off.
“Don’t be a spoilsport. We’ve been looking forward to this for months.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, mémé. Not when you all look so lovely.” He gestured to the group.
Daphne blushed like a schoolgirl.
“You flatterer. Why, if I was–”
“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence, Daphne,” Hazel snapped.
“What?” Daphne laughed.
“He might be your grandson, but he is a handsome devil.”
Hazel puffed up proudly.
“Of course he is. He inherited all my family’s good genes. Especially the beautiful blue eyes.”
Funny that Hazel would choose to compliment a feature that was a mirror image of her own sparkling eyes.
Hanna stifled a laugh as the women playfully bickered over Noah’s inherited looks.
Mai’s gaze swung to her, a mischievous tilt to her lips.
“Honestly, you two are as bad as children sometimes. We need an unbiased opinion. Hanna, what do you think? Is Noah a handsome devil?”
Sneaky, meddlesome woman.
Wasn’t it enough that Hanna had to hear her own mother and grandmothers bemoan the fact that she was single, traipsing around the globe with no sign of settling down in sight?
Now she had to contend with matchmaking guests as well.
All eyes were on her, Mai looking downright smug at putting her on the spot, Daphne had a grin from ear to ear, and Lillian was affronted at the notion that Hanna would weigh in on the matter.
Hazel’s lack of surprise (and was that satisfaction lurking behind her forced nonchalance?) made Hanna immediately suspicious that perhaps Hazel put Mai up to this line of questioning.
Or, worse yet, that they dreamed up another scheme together.
For his part, Noah was unreadable.
His face stripped bare of any emotion that Hanna could easily convince herself that he did not care at all.
Except…except for the clench of his hand and unwavering focus.
He watched her carefully, as if his next movement, even his next breath, depended on her answer.
There was no playful flirtation in Noah’s gaze like in the garden, just a raw desire for her honesty.
Hanna only had eyes for him, wishing it were just the two of them in the room as she replied.
“Not a devil, no.”
Amusement danced behind Noah’s gaze.
“Ah, just handsome then.”
“I did not say that.”
“You didn’t not say it either.” He stepped closer.
A shiver swept down her body at the rough tone of Noah’s voice.
“Please, I am not going to inflate your ego. If you want a compliment, you have to earn it.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“Yes.” Hanna was surprised at the raspy quality of her own voice.
There was something about Noah that made Hanna want to challenge him, pull him outside his comfort zone and have him do the same for her.
She wanted him to be the exception to the rule and prove that something could happen between them without the world falling apart.
With his chest moving faster, Hanna thought that Noah might want that too.
“As sweet as this moment is…” Lillian’s voice was dripping with sarcasm.
“We are paying you to give us a tour, not flirt, and we have someplace to be.” She pointedly looked at the slender watch on her wrist.
Noah stiffened next to her, thunder clouding his expression.
Hazel smacked her friend in the arm, her tone reprimanding.
“Lillian! Don’t be rude.”
“I was being honest,” Lillian replied.
“She’s here to do a job.”
For their part, Mai and Daphne both looked embarrassed at Lillian’s comments and angry on Hanna’s behalf.
A fight was brewing within the group and if Hanna did not carefully diffuse the tension, it would ruin an evening that the women had talked about for weeks before it even got started.
Stepping away from Noah, Hanna held out her hands in a placating gesture.
“Let’s focus on all the fun you are going to have tonight.” Hanna saw Madeline pull up to the curb and gave a sweeping gesture.
“Montmartre awaits and I planned a surprise at the show that I know you will enjoy.”
“Not until Lillian apologizes.” Hazel resolutely stood in place, blocking Lillian from walking away.
Looking like she was going to argue again, Lillian huffed in frustration when Daphne and Mai flanked Hazel, three unmoving statues.
“Fine.” Lillian turned to Hanna with an exasperated flap of her hands.
“And mean it,” Hazel prodded.
Clenching her jaw, Lillian stared at Hanna for a moment.
Staring back, Hanna was not going to give her the easy way out by breaking the silence first. She ran through the rain to get this woman’s purse, the least she could do was admit when she was in the wrong.
As if she realized that herself, the fire in Lillian’s eyes burnt out, her shoulders deflating.
“I am sorry, Hanna. That was disrespectful of me and I should not have said it. You have been nothing but professional and courteous to this group and I hope you can forgive me.”
Taken aback by the sincerity in her tone, Hanna accepted the apology, despite the urge to reject it on principle.
While she doubted that she and Lillian would bond like she had with the rest of the group, hopefully the scathing remarks would stop.
Sending one last quelling glare at Lillian, Hazel led the group towards the car, needling Hanna to give them a hint about the surprise.
While Madeline got Mai and the others situated in the car, Hanna hovered near the front bumper, taking a moment to douse her anger.
The implication that Hanna did not know how to do her job raised her hackles and set her on the defensive.
As the youngest child of four, Hanna grew up feeling like she had to prove herself worthy compared to her more traditionally accomplished siblings, and she feared not being good enough.
Lillian’s reminder that Hanna only had value to the group for the job she did added a disappointed, hollow-feeling on top of it all.
Breathing in the cool night air, which was marred by the pungent burn of smoke and car exhaust, Hanna released the bitter feelings and tried to focus on the night ahead.
“Are you okay?” Noah’s presence was reassuring instead of suffocating, his broad frame sheltering her from any peering eyes inside the car.
Tilting her head back to look at his face, Hanna expected to see guilt and regret in his expression after getting called out for flirting with the help.
Maybe he was starting to resent her unprofessional behavior.
Instead, Noah lifted a hand toward her face, then lowered it with a wrinkle in his brow.
“Lillian shouldn’t have said that. I am sorry.”
Hanna shrugged, trying to look like it didn’t bother her.
“She was right, though. It was unprofessional to flirt with you.”
“Don’t.” Noah shook his head.
“Don’t dismiss it like that. No one should talk to you like that, regardless of their reason. Job or not, you are a person, and everyone deserves to be talked to with respect. Besides, I liked you flirting with me, and if I didn’t, I should be the one to tell you, not Lillian.”
His voice was thick with vehemence, passionate in his defense, and it warmed Hanna’s heart.
A lot of people thought that they could treat workers however they wanted, as if accepting condescending and oftentimes discriminatory comments were part of their job.
Letting her pleasure at his comment show in the smile spreading across her face, Hanna rested a hand on Noah’s arm.
“Thank you for saying that. I’ve gotten so used to people saying comments like that that I try not to take it personally, but it still hurts. I appreciate you checking on me, though.” The door slid shut behind them, signaling it was time for them to get in.
“For the record, I like flirting with you, too.”
During the ride, Hanna tried to loosen the remaining tension in the group by sharing the history of the Moulin Rouge and cabaret in Paris.
With some of the more provocative tales, the women started laughing and joking around with one another.
By the time Madeline was dropping them off in front of the iconic landmark, the group was in good spirits again, though Noah’s frosty demeanor towards Lillian suggested that not all the trouble was gone.
Hanna found her contact, a small, round-faced girl named Colette and began checking them in for the show, listening to the excited hum of energy around them.
In the red light of the marquee, Noah was taking photos of his grandmother and her friends, patiently waiting for them to rotate through a series of poses before dutifully capturing the image from multiple angles.
Watching him present the phone to them for review and listen to their feedback without a hint of exasperation was endearing, and Hanna felt another smile creep onto her face.
An expression that was becoming commonplace whenever Noah was around.
“ We have everything arranged for your party just as you requested, Anna ,” Colette spoke softly in French.
“ The performers know where your group is seated to meet them after the show. A table for four directly in front of the stage .”
“ Four ?” Hanna responded in French.
Unless math changed recently, there was one seat missing at that table, since neither she or Madeline were going.
“ It should be five. ”
Colette frowned down at her tablet, re-reading what was listed for the reservation.
“ I’m sorry, but the reservation is listed for four. ”
Worry pumped through Hanna’s veins, quickening the blood and causing her heart and lungs to fill rapidly.
“ No, I confirmed the reservation earlier this week. For five guests. ”
“Is something the matter, dear?” Great, now Hazel was here to witness the mistake.
She must have heard the worry in Hanna’s voice and come over to check on her.
The tour was going so well, just under a week in, with few mishaps, but Hanna knew it only took one major mistake to lose any referrals.
Trying to be helpful, Colette switched to English and said, “Just a minor issue with the reservation. Let me speak to the manager about adjusting the table to five instead of four. It should not be a problem.”
Noah stepped around his grandmother.
“No, four is correct. Only my grandmother and her friends are attending. I called yesterday to change the reservation.”
“You did?” Hanna looked at him in shock, the stress of the situation cracking her voice.
“You aren’t the only one who knows how to make plans.” He smirked like she should be proud of what he did.
She wasn’t. Hanna was furious.
But she would wait until the others were gone before she unleashed that fury on Noah.
The others were fussing over Noah, asking what he planned on doing with his evening if he was not joining them.
He mentioned something about grabbing drinks with a business contact, but Hanna was only half-heartedly listening.
“Well.” Hanna brought her hands together quietly.
“We do not want to delay you getting into the show any further. Madeline and I will be here to pick you up when it is over.”
Colette stepped forward and ushered them into the theater, leaving Hanna alone with Noah.
“I cannot believe you did that.” She turned on him so quickly that Noah took a step back.
“Did what?”
“Went behind my back and changed the reservation.” She poked a finger in his chest. “You had no right to do that.”
He raised his hands in a defensive gesture.
“I thought it was helpful. Cabaret is not my thing, so I thought I would save you the trouble and cancel the ticket myself. You are doing everything else for us, I did not want to add one more thing to your schedule.”
That snuffed some of her fire, but not all of it.
“Though I appreciate you wanting to help me, deciding what I need help with is not your decision to make. This is not just a job for me, Noah. Everything that happens on this tour reflects on me and impacts my reputation as a qualified guide and planner, something that took years to build credibility. Which is now more important than ever. Do you know how difficult it is to build a business?” Tears welled with the rise of her emotions.
“To put everything–your heart, soul, reputation, and funds–on the line for other people to judge and deem you worthy?”
Her breath was coming faster as the swell of emotions took over.
It was such a small thing, Noah changing the reservation, so why was it impacting her so strongly?
Was it the long hours and lack of sleep?
Or, maybe it was the stress of having to take care of everyone finally coming to a peak, her heart instinctively knowing that she could fall apart in front of Noah and not worry about having to pick herself back up.
“Hanna,” he exhaled her name as if it pained him.
Reaching out and pulling Hanna into the circle of his arms, one hand banding around her waist to secure her tightly to his torso, the other cradling her head to the crook of his shoulder, Noah held her steady.
Around them, people hustled to get into the theater, cars honking as they were cut off, and tourists dashing across the street to pose for a photo with the bright lights illuminating the night.
Within Noah’s embrace, Hanna felt cocooned in an intimate bubble, uncaring about the world around them.
She was tired. So very tired of having to be perfect all the time.
But with Noah, the relief of having one person with whom she could be herself was a salve.
At this moment, she did not care if it was a mistake to unload on a guest, she just needed someone in her corner.
The pressure of this job, how much was at stake, never left her mind.
Slowly building like a pressure cooker, Noah acted as a release valve, allowing Hanna to vent against the calm wall of his support.
Low enough that Hanna knew the words were meant for her ears only, Noah said, “I do know what that is like. The constant fear that whatever you do will never be enough. I am so sorry that I had any part in making you feel that way and I promise that I will not overstep in the future and check with you first before making any changes. Should you want or need help, you only have to ask and I will give it.”
He tipped up her chin so that she was staring directly into the deep pools of his eyes, crystal clear with their honest intensity.
“You are one of the most capable people I know. You are brilliant, creative, and so giving of your time and energy. It’s inspiring, and a little terrifying, how much you can accomplish. And I am grateful that I get to witness just part of what you can do.”
If the lights were not already painting her face in rouge, the heat that filled Hanna at Noah’s words certainly would have done the trick.
“Thank you,” she replied before resting her cheek back against his shirt.
Beneath the fabric, she could hear the pounding of his heart, a match to her own beat.
For several long moments, they stood on the sidewalk, needing nothing more than the comfort of each other’s embrace.
Pressed as she was against Noah, Hanna heard and felt a small grumble.
Laughing, she stepped back to find Noah sheepishly looking away, embarrassed that she caught his stomach’s protest at a lack of food.
“Come on.” She reached for his hand.
“Let’s get you some food before your stomach mounts a revolution.”
In the heart of the district known for its artisans and thriving nightlife, people flowed through the streets, laughing with friends, popping in and out of shops, or stopping to enjoy a street performance.
Above it all, Sacré-C?ur loomed, a beacon of white against the darkened sky.
Empty plates and a nearly finished bottle of wine cluttered the tiny, wrought-iron table where Hanna and Noah dined, the cool night air deterring few from the outdoor patio.
The low timbre of a cello carried through the night air, the song relaxing the table’s occupants and creating a buffer to the din of restaurant chatter around them.
Swirling the contents of her wine glass before taking a sip, Hanna pursed her lips and lowered her brows at Noah as he began to pour the remaining wine in her glass.
“And here I thought you disapproved of me drinking.”
“What?” He paused what he was doing to look at her.
“Why would you think that?”
Hanna made a flippant gesture with one hand.
“You were so judgy on the plane, glaring at me when the flight attendant offered me champagne.”
Noah’s eyes widened in surprise.
“That? No, I was definitely not glaring at you, and certainly not over free champagne on a flight. It’s just…” He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh.
“You had not even finished settling into your seat, and when the flight attendant came over, you acted like you were inconveniencing her just by being there. I just wanted you to be comfortable, but I didn’t know what to say, and by the time I figured it out the moment was over.”
“Oh.” Hanna felt guilty for jumping to conclusions.
“Well, I am sorry for thinking the worst of you.”
“I didn’t give you the best first impression,” Noah replied with a wince, finishing pouring their wine.
“Plus, I’ve been told that I have severe RBF.”
A laugh burst from Hanna’s mouth.
Noah was effortlessly funny with his dry sense of humor, so much so that Hanna was surprised how easy and often she was laughing with him.
His laugh was more subdued, a wry chuckle or a sharp exhale punctuated with a quirk of his mouth the most Hanna would get from him.
The glint of amusement in his eyes was all she needed to see to know that he was enjoying himself, though.
Deep into their second bottle of wine, Hanna reflected on how naturally the conversation progressed between them, almost as if it were a dance.
Hanna learned that Noah was an only-child, loved reading cozy mysteries, and had a movie collection to rival a streaming service.
His mother, Rachel and father, Leo, were high-school sweethearts and lived in a bungalow near San Diego.
Leo was deployed overseas shortly after Noah was born, so Rachel and Noah moved in with her parents, Hazel and Marcel, for support.
“Is that why you and Hazel are so close?” Hanna knew many tight-knit families.
Though her own was scattered, they still loved each other.
“Yeah,” Noah answered quickly, then paused.
Hanna waited patiently, giving him a moment to gather his thoughts.
“It was more stable for us to live with them while dad was on deployment, and even in the months when he was back, it just made sense to stay where we had a support system. With my mom working too, mémé was usually the one picking me up from school and helping me with homework. Dad was fortunate to get stationed in San Diego and mémé’s house continued to be more of a second home than a place to visit for holidays.”
Their conversation was put on hold as the waiter came to clear their dishes.
Hanna smiled at Noah, feeling like some of his puzzle pieces were finally clicking into place.
Of course he was protective of the woman who helped raise him.
“I really admire how you two care about each other. Though I still think you could have handled it better, I understand why you were hesitant to trust me. Protecting Hazel had to come first.”
A shadow clouded Noah’s downturned eyes, a solemn atmosphere settling over them as he swirled the remains of his wine.
His abrupt change in attitude was unexpected, more bitter than sweet now.
Maybe the bill gave him sticker shock, except it had not arrived yet.
Something tugged at Hanna’s core, urging her hand to reach across the table to drape over Noah’s.
She blamed the indulgence on wine, not her untethered emotions.
Beneath her palm, Noah’s fingers curled into a tight ball.
“Not always, unfortunately.”
Frowning, Hanna watched shame twist Noah’s features.
With a sigh, he leaned forward in his chair and locked eyes with Hanna.
“Did my grandmother tell you that she started her own business after I was born?”
Hanna nodded.
“Organic cleaning products, right?”
It was one of the reasons she admired Hazel so much.
As a young mother, Hazel was appalled by the chemical cleaning agents favored by her neighbors.
For years, Hazel made organic products in her home, and taught her daughter how to make them after she had Noah.
When other children came over to play with Noah, parents commented on the organic ingredients and started buying them from Hazel.
What started as a small, home-grown business was now nationally renowned.
Her formal retirement in the last few years, and the passing of her husband, were catalysts for Hazel’s travel-bug.
“Right,” Noah continued.
“I watched my grandmother make bottle after bottle of cleaning solution in her home, building the business with mom’s help. And, selfishly, when I started college, I thought that I could make it better, find the magic solution to make it bigger so they could expand. Which is why I became a business major.” He smiled ruefully.
“I was so cocky, thinking that I knew better than them, and it made it that much easier to get manipulated.”
Hanna remained silent, allowing him the time to work through how he wanted to proceed.
She saw his pulse pounding against his neck as Noah breathed in the crisp, night air, averting his gaze for a moment.
“There was a professor, Finley, successful, brilliant, and persuasive. A pioneer in the investment world. His books were best-sellers and students practically worshiped the ground he walked on, and I was one of them. Any class he offered, I signed up to take, and when it came time for my MBA there was no other choice than him as my advisor. Naturally, in the hours spent together, I shared details about my grandmother’s business and he offered advice and suggestions. I idolized him and he knew it. When he offered to invest my grandparents’ savings, I was blown away. Here was a man who CEOs and CFOs came to for advice, and he was giving it for free to my family.”
Noah’s voice shook, cracking over the mention of his family.
Squeezing her fingers over his, Hanna tried to send reassurance and warmth through their connection.
Her heart broke over the obvious ending of the story and how much of the blame Noah was shouldering.
“He took it all, every penny my grandparents saved because I told them to give it to him. And when he first disappeared, I made excuses for him, saying that he must be travelling for work or busy with his next project. They lost everything because of me, and my grandfather never forgave me. I was the reason mémé could not retire earlier and had to wait to travel. After everything she gave me, I cannot have her lose it all again.” His azure gaze implored her to understand.
Hanna wiggled her fingers between Noah’s clenched digits, spreading them open to rub soothing circles in his palm.
“Hazel would never blame you, Noah.” She shook her head to emphasize the point when he tried to interrupt.
“I cannot speak for your grandfather, but it does not give me a high opinion of him if he resented you. You were young and put your trust in the wrong person, but it was just a mistake, Noah. All the blame lies with Finley for manipulating you and taking advantage of your trust. People much older and wiser than you fall prey to people like that all the time, just look at the news.”
A corner of his lips quirked at her playful tone regarding his intelligence.
“And you did better than most people. You learned from your mistake and worked hard to build back what was lost. I wish that never happened to you and your family, but your tenacity and perseverance built something that you and Hazel should be proud of. You said you thought I was impressive, but it takes one to know one.”
Candlelight flared in his eyes, burning away whatever held Noah back before.
With a sharp tug on her arm, Noah pulled her forward, leaning the majority of the way towards her so that table dug into his side, not hers, and giving her an opportunity to pull away if she wanted to.
Hanna didn’t.
For all their push and pull, playful remarks and sizzling tension, their lips met softly, their heads tilting to find the right angle.
Pressing more firmly into him, Hanna leaned forward, pulling away only centimeters before crushing their lips together again.
Noah smelled like wine and soap, the cut of his trimmed beard scraping against her jaw as he opened his mouth against hers.
Intertwined on the table, their hands grasped and caressed each other, reminding them that they were connected by more than just their lips.
With his free hand, Noah cupped Hanna’s face, smoothing his thumb over her skin in distracting circles.
Every nerve was firing with his touch, the hairs on her arm standing up as electricity pinged across her body.
Noah’s eyes opened when she released a growl of frustration, the edge of the table digging into her ribs and preventing them from getting closer.
She wanted the distance between them to disappear, to feel the warmth of his body next to hers and be able to touch him freely.
Both of Noah’s hands reached out to cup her face and neck, supporting Hanna as their lips met again.
This was a moment stretched in time that Hanna never wanted to forget.
Here, they were just Noah and Hanna, two people enjoying a tender moment after a meal.
There were no time zones separating them or work getting in the way.
No tour guide and client separation.
As soon as the thought entered her head, awareness returned to Hanna’s brain, reminding her of everything she had to lose.
Pulling out of his reach, she mourned the loss of his touch immediately, like discarding a warm blanket after a cozy stay on the couch.
Noah’s eyes blinked open slowly, two lines appearing between his brows in confusion.
Avoiding the question in his gaze, Hanna looked at her watch, the birds taunting her with their endless circuit around the face.
Timeless as their evening felt, their time alone together was at an end.
Motioning for the check, Hanna said, “We need to leave soon to pick up Hazel and the others. This was a lovely evening, Noah, but it cannot happen again.”
“Why not?” His downturned mouth matched the wash of disappointment that sank into her chest. “What you do in your free time is your business and I would never do anything to jeopardize your career.”
With a sad smile, Hanna folded her hands onto her lap to prevent reaching for him again.
“But that is just it, you are my business, at least while you are on tour with me. You are my client, and while you might not use that against me, there are plenty of others who would.”
“I would never hurt you, Hanna, and I don’t want to waste another minute pretending that I do not want you. You need to protect your company, I get that, so if that means I cannot be with you until this tour ends, then I will wait for you at the end of it. Just be honest with me. If you do not want me, fine, I can handle rejection and will never make a move on you again, but if you do want me, even for stolen moments, I will take whatever time I can get. You have said before that we are grown adults, capable of making our own decisions. So make the decision you want, not what you think everyone else wants you to make. And my grandmother is your client, not me.”
“That is semantics at best, misconduct at worst. We cannot change the rules just to suit our desires. Being a tour guide means that the job never truly ends. I do not get nights off. If a client calls, I need to answer.”
“Not past 10 p.m.”
Now she was really confused.
“What?”
Noah settled the bill and stood, offering a hand to help her stand.
“Your contract stipulates that when on tour, the rate includes services until 10 at night. Anything after that is considered an emergency service and billed separately.”
Hanna had completely forgotten about that.
When reviewing the business proposal, Stephanie recommended the addition as a way for Hanna to set boundaries with her clients.
Granted, this was her debut tour, but she had never needed to enforce the rule.
Was that why Noah looked perplexed when he saw her around the hotel after 10?
Mentioning it now opened the door to possibility.
Technically, if she was off the clock, did that mean Noah was no longer her guest?
And would that change anything for her if it did?
Thoughts in a muddle, Hanna did not notice that they started walking back towards the Moulin Rouge.
Content to walk in silence, it gave Hanna time to think, running through scenarios in her mind.
As the bright lights came into view, Noah turned to face her.
“Just think about it, okay?” He brushed her hair behind one ear before lifting the back of her hand for a kiss.
Lights and sounds came back into focus as people poured out of the building.
Right on time, Madeline pulled up with the car as their group arrived, bright faced and exuberantly sharing every detail about their evening.
Hanna took advantage of the distraction they provided, listening as their voices wove around each other.
Once they were all settled into the car, Hanna did what Noah asked, and thought.