Chapter 63
HANNAH
H annah was sick of explaining. She was exhausted from having to repeat the same story over and over. And especially weary from having to plead her case with every higher-up in the New York office. To say nothing of the fact that she was utterly mortified at having her private life thrust out into the open yet again.
No matter what she said, or what explanation or viewpoint she provided, no one at Lotus HR was going to take her seriously now. Not after what had happened before with Rob. This was just another example of her messing up – a walking case study of how not to be a public relations professional. It was mortifying.
The day after, Hannah was told to stop everything she was doing for her current portfolio and instructed in no uncertain terms, that she should stay entirely out of the public eye nor speak to any member of the press. The firm’s damage control and crisis management arm had gone into overdrive, trying to clean up what had happened, which included putting her on a leave of absence for an undetermined amount of time and informing Ward and his agent that the company was severing their contract.
All in all, a nightmare. Now, she was huddled in a pair of cotton pyjamas on Courtney’s couch under a blanket, all the blinds shut tight in the apartment to keep out the light of day and mute the sounds of the street below, where millions of happy New Yorkers went on about their days, their lives not in shambles and their futures bright.
Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced at the screen. Private number.
She knew Lotus wouldn’t mask its identity if someone from HR was calling to deliver a verdict.
That meant press , she thought, or Ward. Or Rob. All of whom had been calling and messaging relentlessly in the aftermath and whom Hannah did not want to talk to right now. Or ever.
But a troublesome thought played at the edges of her brain.
Hannah knew she would survive if she never spoke with a member of the press again. She also was perfectly fine with keeping Rob in her rear-view mirror for the rest of her life. In fact, if she never had to lay eyes on him again, she would consider it a success.
But Ward … A fresh ache settled in her chest when she imagined never speaking to him again, or seeing him again, or hearing him complain or tease her … or laugh.
Even though she was still spitting feathers with him for his part in her latest humiliation. Hannah kicked the sofa with her sock-clad foot and threw her head under the blanket as if doing so would make her problems disappear. But if anything, the darkness under the covers amplified the confused thoughts that ran rampant through her mind.
How had such public drama found her again?
She was supposed to control the narrative after all – not allow chaos to follow her around like an uninvited sidekick.
And what the hell had got into Ward? Why did he fly off the handle like that?
That she couldn’t make sense of. OK, so Rob had grabbed her, and evidently sensing her discomfort (or fear?), Ward had intervened. But to continue it after … that was beyond just standing up for her, it felt almost personal. Like Rob was an opponent in a high-stakes game.
She had been shocked – still was, frankly. But there was something else there, too, now that she examined it. A thrill of satisfaction. Didn’t Rob deserve what he’d got? Hannah didn’t condone violence, but even so, her answer was … maybe.
Her ex had needed to be put in his place for a while – and to think he was going to get away with sucker-punching Ward McKenzie … Despite herself Hannah felt an instinctive flicker of desire.
She no longer cared about Rob, of that she was now absolutely certain. But what about these other feelings? The jolt of butterflies from having Ward defend her honour? Her thoughts turned to how he had effortlessly thrown off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, emerald eyes glittering as the Wildcat readied himself to pounce. She shivered deliciously.
Seemed she wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
‘That was HOT! And I have never and I mean never wanted to shake a guy’s hand so much in my life. And then some.’ Zoe had phoned agog within minutes of the news breaking out, convinced it was the best thing she’d ever seen. Until remembering that it wasn’t so entertaining for Hannah.
‘I’m coming over on the next flight,’ her friend assured, but Hannah managed to persuade her not to. She didn’t feel up to talking, and for the moment, just wanted to be alone for a while until she was ready to think about what to do next.
Regardless of his intentions though, she still couldn’t condone Ward’s actions. Though she couldn’t deny how him defending her so gallantly had made her feel.
Oh, for goodness’ sake stop it! She threw her head back against the cushion propped behind her and then heard a demanding cry.
A moment later, a light weight settled at the end of the couch where her feet were and made the journey up to her chest. A pair of speckled blue eyes met her gaze head-on and the cat tilted its head slightly as if to say, ‘What’s the problem now ?’
Hannah raised her eyebrows. ‘I think you must sense when I’m in crisis since you always seem to turn up when I need a friend.’ Then, realizing she was going crazy, she shook her head. ‘Or maybe I am turning into a crazy cat lady.’ Her thoughts then turned to her next-door neighbour, thinking at this point she too could subscribe to the appeal of becoming a recluse.
The note that appeared before she’d headed off to the awards ceremony had not been from Ed, but a written apology from Bruno. The doorman was inconsolable that he’d allowed Rob to sweet-talk him into letting him upstairs, her ex insisting that calling ahead to announce his arrival would ruin the romantic surprise he’d planned.
While Hannah couldn’t deny that she was annoyed about it, Bruno was such a sweetheart that she could hardly be angry with him. So while Hannah was pleased that the ruckus with Rob hadn’t changed Ed’s mind about her, it didn’t help that her entire New York move had descended into complete disaster and her future still hung in the balance.
Feeling dejected and emotional, she pulled the cat closer to pet its ears and ran a finger down its silky back. For once it didn’t shrink away or baulk at the contact, and instead purred under her palm, pressing into it.
The simple show of affection was all it took for her to succumb, and she sat in the dark with the animal and allowed herself a little sob, as she contemplated the mess that was once again her life.