Chapter 8
Hannah
The day goes by in a blur. At three, Renee buzzes me to let me know that my new client is running late.
I bite back a groan.
“How late? Dave’s picking me up at five.”
Renee makes an ‘aww,’ sound. “That’s so sweet! I wish I would have known that. I could have told Ms. Minty-Smith that we needed to reschedule.”
“I think it’ll be fine. Dave can wait in my office if he has to.”
“I really like him. And I’m not just saying that because I introduced the two of you.”
I snort. “Sure you aren’t.”
“Okay, maybe a little.”
“Get back to work, Ren. I have a feeling we’re going to be busy when our bride-to-be arrives.”
Renee hangs up, and I shoot Dave a text.
Dave
Can you be here around 5:30 instead? One of my brides is running late.
Yup. See you then.
At four forty-five, Renee buzzes my office to let me know my new client has finally arrived.
Renee’s voice is low as she says, “Oh my good god. This woman is whack-o. You’re going to need all the good vibes with this one.”
I snort. “Is she in the consultation room?”
“Yes.”
“Is the groom with her?”
There’s been times when the groom literally only shows up for the wedding. If the bride is going to be a handful, then it might be better if she’s alone.
“He’s here, too. Real good looking. I have no idea why they’re getting married.”
“What makes you say that?”
“They act like they can’t stand each other, especially on his end.”
“Well, this is going to be fun.”
“Like I said, you’re going to need all the good vibes you can get. And I have the sage ready to go for when they leave.”
I’m laughing as I hang up the phone because I know Renee isn’t kidding. She’s definitely going to sage the room when they’re gone.
Normally, I’d be rushing to the consultation room, so the clients don’t have to wait, but they’re the ones who are nearly two hours late. So, I finish my coffee and then use the bathroom attached to my office to reapply my lipstick and re-do my ponytail. After spritzing my perfume, I head back to my office and grab my iPad from my desk.
Time to do this.
I have a practiced smile on my face as I enter the consultation room.
This is one of my favorite rooms in my building. The walls are classic white baroque with floral moldings and columns that make the room feel regal. The view outside the window is the garden. It feels romantic and dreamy year-round. I went with a white leather couch that sits four. Sometimes, the bride likes to bring a friend or family member. In this case, the bride and groom sit at opposite ends of the couch. Guess Ren wasn’t kidding about that.
The bride is a brunette, with a short bob. I can tell just by the way she’s sitting that she means business. My god. How does anyone sit that straight? The groom, on the other hand, is slouched, leaning to the side. He’s literally leaning as far away from her as he can, making me wonder if I’m not walking in on an argument. Where she is clean and proper, he appears more disheveled. His dark hair is touching his shoulders and there are pieces out-of-place like he’s run his fingers through it recently.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say as I round the desk. “A call went longer than expected.”
My entire body jerks as I make eye contact with the groom. No! He has a similar look of shock on his face. I sink into my chair and discreetly pinch my wrist. God knows this feels like a nightmare.
Because I’m staring back at Brooks-mother-fucking-Henderson.
And his bride-to-be.
Oh my god. I really feel like I’m going to be sick.
I rise to my feet and say, “Excuse me.”
The bride opens her mouth to speak, but I get the hell out of there before I have to listen to her.
In the hallway, I bend at the waist, inhaling deeply. A war rages deep inside of me. Part of me wants to go back to my office and have Renee tell the couple that I can’t be their wedding planner. The other part of me wants to march back in there and act like this is any other wedding. That seeing Brooks isn’t killing me.
But can I do it?
That’s the million-dollar question. Literally. Because that’s what I’m going to lose if I turn down this wedding. Not only that, but this wedding might be the one that puts me over the top of the hill that I’m so desperately trying to climb.
Is Brooks Henderson worth it?
That remains to be seen.
Renee rounds the corner and spots me. “Oh my god! Hannah, are you okay?”
I straighten and nod. “I’m fine. I need you to get a bottle of champagne and two flutes and bring it in. Act like this was part of the plan, okay?”
“Of course.” Her gaze searches mine. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.”
The words sound fake to my own ears.
She hurries off, leaving me alone. I need to get my shit together.
Now.
I inhale before entering the room again, going right to my seat behind the desk.
“So sorry about that. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Minty-Smith.”
I make eye contact with her and not him. Definitely not him.
“Please, call me Jacqueline.”
Jacqueline smiles at me, and I smile back. She’s older, closer to Brooks’ age than to mine. She’s pretty, but there’s something about her that feels…fake. Like, she’s smiling right now, but it’s not friendly. Not in the least.
“Jacqueline, we’re honored that you reached out to Hannah Lee Bridal to plan your big event. Now, I’ve?—”
“Is Lee your married name?” Brooks asks, leaning forward.
“Pardon?”
I make the mistake of making eye contact with him and wish like hell I hadn’t. Because as soon as our gazes meet, it’s like I’m where I was six years ago, the last time we were together, before everything went to shit.Theonly thing that’s different is that he looks older. I don’t mean that he’s aged a lot, but the carefree glint that used to be in his eyes is gone. It’s now replaced with a hard look that I’m not familiar with.
“Is Lee your married name?” He says the words slower, emphasizing each one.
Ignoring him, I turn my attention to the bride.
“I’ve looked over your file and see that you’re aiming for a June wedding. Are you wanting to stay in the Dallas area?”
“Yes.”
“No,” Brooks says at the same time.
Jacqueline glances at him before saying, “Yes, we want to stay in the Dallas area. We’d love either the Dallas Arboretum or Knotting Hill Place.”
“In June?”
“Yes.”
I’m not even going to point out that it’s March and that both venues she mentioned book years in advance. Years.
“We’ll make it happen. I just need the two of you to lock in a couple of dates to send to the venues.”
“It has to be June 27th.”
“Is the date important to the two of you? An anniversary? Perhaps the date that the two of you met?”
It’s a normal question that I’d ask any client but kills me because of my history with Brooks.
Brooks snorts, and Jacqueline shoots daggers at him.
She says, “It’s my birthday.”
“Oh, that is an important date, then!” I smile. “I’ll reach out to both venues today.”
Thank god money talks because that’s what it’s going to take to get a specific date in June at either venue.
Jacqueline is happy with this and says, “Excellent. Now, I have a list of ideas. Would you like to see them now, or should I email them to you?”
“First, we need to sign the contract. It’s standard procedure, you see.” My face hurts from smiling. “After that, you can send me all of your ideas and we can get to work.”
“Oh, of course. That makes perfect sense.” She turns to Brooks. “Are you ready to sign right now, darling?”
Darling? My chest is so tight that it hurts. I have to let this go.
He’s not mine.
He never was.
Renee enters, carrying a silver tray with two crystal flutes and a bottle of champagne. Thank god for her perfect timing. She sets it on the table in front of them and opens the bottle of champagne before pouring some into each flute.
“Excellent timing Renee. Ms. Minty-Smith and Mr. Henderson are ready to sign the contract.”
Renee smiles. “Wonderful. I’ll get everything ready.”
I stand. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on another client. I’ll have the contract when I return.”
Jacqueline is too busy guzzling down her drink to answer. Brooks, on the other hand, watches me with a look I know all too well.
Oh my god.
He’s going to come after me.
I keep my composure until I get to the hallway, where I all but run to the bathroom at the end of the hall. I’m almost to the door when I feel his presence behind me.
Spinning, I come face to face with him.
“Really?”
“Is. Lee. Your. Married. Name?” Each word brings him closer until our chests touch.
“Your fiancée is in the other room. Does it matter what my last name is?”
“It fucking matters, Angel.”
Hearing him call me ‘Angel’ feels like a punch to my gut. I back away from him, shaking my head.
“Go away, Brooks. I need a moment to gather my composure and then I’ll be back in there.”
Without waiting, I enter the bathroom and head toward the last stall. Tears threaten to fall, but I’ll be damned if I shed one more tear over that man. The door opens and loud footsteps follow me. Glancing over my shoulder, I find Brooks prowling toward me.
“What are you doing in here?”
“Getting some fucking answers.”
I back up into the stall. He follows, crowding me. God, I forgot how big he was up close. His familiar scent floats my way and I shake my head.
“Please, just go.”
His arms cage me in so I can’t move.
“Is Lee your married name?”
“No,” I bite out. “It’s my middle name, after my father. Not that you ever bothered to ask.”
He presses his forehead against mine. “Thank fucking god.”
I snort. “God has nothing to do with this.”
“You’re right. This is between us.”
“There is no us, Brooks. You’re engaged.”
He pulls back enough to look down at me.
“It doesn’t mean shit.”
“That would be your viewpoint on marriage.”
“You’re mad at me. I get it.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” I press at his chest. “Please, leave before your fiancée comes looking for you.”
“Are you saying that this doesn’t feel like fucking fate?”
“That’s what I’m saying.” I pause. “I’ll admit that seeing you was a shock, but other than that, I have no feelings for you or about you. As soon as I walk out of here, I’m going to treat you like every other groom who walks through my door.”
His gaze searches mine and then he nods. Unease creeps through me. I don’t like the gleam in his eyes.
“You claim that you feel nothing for me. That I’m just another groom. I’ll play your little game if you can pass my test, Angel.”
“Test?” I scoff. “What kind of test?”
“I’m going to reach into your panties. If you’re not wet, then I’ll believe that seeing me hasn’t affected you. If you are, well, then we’ll both know the truth.”
My heart misses a damn beat.
“So, can you pass my test?”
No.“Yes.”
“So sure of yourself? I’m wounded, Angel.”
It shouldn’t be this easy to fall back into a teasing pattern with him.
“Yes, I’m sure. And yes, I’ll take your stupid test.”
It has nothing to do with the fact that I want him to touch me. God dammit, it doesn’t!
“Good girl.”
“It’s pretty pathetic that you have to rely on cheap tricks to ensure that I’ll be wet when you touch me. Next, you’ll be telling me to call you Daddy.”
“I do what it takes to win. Now, spread your legs for Daddy.”
I almost tell him no, because that little command sent a rush of heat right to my core. But I don’t like to lose. So, I widen my stance.
He stays close as he lifts my skirt, pulling it up. Cool air kisses my skin right before he rubs my thigh with his hand.
“I’ve dreamed about this,” he says.
“What? Pinning me down in a bathroom?”
His gaze holds mine. “Feeling your soft skin under my touch.”
There’s so much truth in his eyes that I have to look away.
“Don’t worry, Angel. We have plenty of time for you to see that I’m telling the truth. Now that I’ve found you, I’m not letting you go.”
My heart jerks in my chest at the same time that he reaches my thong. He wastes no time pushing it aside, running his finger through my folds.
I exhale loudly.
Fuck.
He lifts his hand, bringing his fingers to his lips. A deep groan works its way up his throat as he sucks my arousal from his digits.
“Fucking as sweet as I remembered.” His gaze meets mine. “Open up, Angel.”
My lips part and he pushes his fingers into my mouth. There’s a hint of my arousal, but what has me moaning is that his fingers are wet with his saliva. I suck on his index finger until his chest rumbles.
“Now that we both know the truth, what are we going to do about it?”
He keeps his fingers in my mouth so I can’t answer and reaches under my skirt with his other hand. I groan as he finds my clit, rubbing it just the way I like. Damn him for remembering. And damn me for wanting more.
“Fuck, Angel. You’re dripping all over my hand. It’s making me so fucking hard.”
He presses his erection against my stomach to prove his point.
There’s a part of me that wants to beg him to fuck me. It’s been so long since I’ve been with someone and I’m so horny. But then I remember three things.
One, I’m seeing Dave. Even though it’s not exclusive, I don’t want to hurt him, especially by cheating. I’ve been on the other end of that, and I don’t like it.
Two, Brooks is engaged! His fiancée is literally down the hall.
Three, he nearly killed me when he broke my heart six years ago. Something I’ll never forget.
Brooks is unaware of my internal struggle and continues to toy with me. I’m so close. So freaking close. But this is wrong. Pushing his hand from between my legs, I sidestep him and pull my skirt into place.
“Go back to your fiancée, Brooks, and never touch me again.”
“Angel—”
I don’t stay to listen to him. Instead, I stroll out of the bathroom and go to my office, closing the door behind me.
The contract sits on my desk, and I stare at it.
Hot tears fill my eyes.
What in the fuck was I thinking?