18. Isaac
18
ISAAC
A n hour and a half flight from Beaufort to New York City wasn’t nearly long enough to get the answers I wanted, but it was a start.
“My dad is a criminal defense attorney,” Hannah said as we slipped into the backseat of the car. Alice shut the door, got behind the wheel, and guided us out of the Teterboro Airport. “I was pre-law in college. Thought I’d follow in his footsteps.”
“Being a criminal defense attorney takes a lot of backbone,” I said, draping my arm around her shoulders.
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m well aware. Imagine growing up as the daughter of a man who argues on behalf of rapists and murderers.”
Okay, so that was a sore spot. “What I meant to say was that I can see you doing well in that line of work. You’re articulate, quick on your feet, and, uh, scary as fuck.”
Hannah rolled her eyes and fought off a smile. “It’s not that I think criminals should get out of paying their debt to society.”
“What is it then?” I prodded.
She thought for a moment and then said, “Equality. Fair treatment. It’s what should define us as Americans. That everyone— regardless of race, socioeconomic status—is afforded the same due process as everyone else. It doesn’t matter who you are. You’re presumed innocent until proven guilty. Defense attorneys aren’t looking for get-out-of-jail-free cards. They just want to see that constitutional rights aren’t trampled on for the sake of getting a conviction or appeasing the court of public opinion.”
Well, bend me over and fuck me sideways. From the driver’s seat, Alice looked over her shoulder and made eye contact with me. Over the years, she’d overheard salacious conversations with women I had been sleeping with, business negotiations, and family quarrels. Not once had she ever reacted.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but why the hell are you a wedding planner and not in a court room?”
We crossed over the murky waters of the Hudson. Hannah had a coy smile on her lips as she looked out the window.
I nudged her. “You didn’t answer my question, Princess.”
“I feel like I’m talking way too much. I usually don’t…”
“Usually don’t what?” I asked.
She peeled her gaze off the river beneath us and looked at me. “I like where I am now, but it took me a long time to accept that. Moving to Beaufort royally pissed my family off.”
“Princess?”
“Huh?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know.”
Hannah sighed. “My family comes from old, southern money.” She paused and looked me up and down. “I mean, not money like you.”
“I get it.” I chuckled. “Go on.”
“My parents had other ideas about what my future was supposed to look like. I got into college and avoided telling them I was taking pre-law classes. I figured it was better to ask forgiveness than permission.”
“What happened? ”
“My sophomore year of college, my mother started dragging me to all these social events with the Junior League and her country club ladies. She wanted me to join all of the charities she was a part of. She didn’t understand why I was invested in school. She wanted me to be just like her. She told me I should focus on marrying rich, planning parties, and having babies who would eventually grow up and do the same.”
Alice gave me a warning look.
“So, you dropped out?” I asked as I tightened my hold on her and traced circles on her shoulder.
Hannah shook her head. “I just changed my major. Graduated with a stupid communications degree.” She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Now I just binge Law & Order with Chase when I need to get my courtroom fix.”
I chuckled. “He’s not a fan of The Office ?”
She shook her head, laughing under her breath. “Nah, that’s just what I watch to unwind.”
“So, what about your family now? I mean, you plan parties for a living. Isn’t that kind of what they wanted?”
Hannah’s face fell as she looked back out the window as we navigated the busy Manhattan streets. “I’m thirty and single. I moved five hours away from them and I believe in marrying for love, not for money.” She looked over her shoulder at me and sadly said, “There’s nothing I can do to make them accept that I don’t want to settle for a loveless marriage and a padded bank account. I know I shouldn’t be complaining. I mean, I have a trust fund and make good money doing what I do. Why should I get to feel sorry for myself? ”
Alice looked over her shoulder as she pulled up to the curb in front of my building. Her expression was much softer this time.
I tilted Hannah’s chin up and kissed her gently.
She rested her forehead on mine and whispered, “Please don’t tell anyone. I just… I’ve never talked about all that with anyone back in Beaufort.”
I kissed her again. “Your secret’s safe with me, Princess.”
Alice opened the door and ushered us out. “Have a good day, Mr. Lawson. Miss Hayes.”
“Thanks, Al,” I said as I offered Hannah my hand.
Her slender legs were the first thing out of the car. I glanced left and right to double-check for any paparazzi. Alice had circled the block twice before deeming it quiet enough to drop us off.
Hannah was a ten. No doubt about it. She had the kind of look that was made for magazine covers, but I was a selfish bastard. I wanted to hide her away from the world and keep her beauty all for myself. I didn’t want there to be a single photo of her tan legs in those goddamn stockings and stilettos.
She stood up straight and looked at the building. Her brows furrowed and her pouty lower lip was trapped between her teeth. “This looks familiar…”
I shrugged and led her into the lobby. She looked around at the marble floors and the art on the walls. A million expressions flashed across her pretty face.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Princess?”
“This is where Luca lives… Isn’t it?” She pulled out her phone and swiped through some photos.
I led her into the elevator and pressed an unmarked button.
Hannah Jane turned her phone and showed me the screen. There was a tabloid photo of Maddie and Luca outside the building. He was leading her to the car and she was a stunner in a short, bronze dress.
“I knew I recognized it. You live here too? Or are we staying at Luca’s apartment?”
I chuckled as the elevator rose through the floors. “I own the building. ”
Her eyes widened.
“I also live here. Sometimes, anyway. The top three floors are mine.”
“Oh.”
“Luca lives a floor below my place. He’s a decent neighbor.” The elevator doors opened into the entryway of my apartment. I took her hand and led Hannah through the door. Her jaw hit the floor. “Like what you see?” I asked, leisurely strolling around the place.
Her mouth opened and closed like she was fighting off whatever unladylike thought was about to sneak out. She pursed her smirking lips and hummed, “Mhmm.”
I chuckled. “Han, stop being so fucking proper and just say what you think.”
She walked around for a moment, taking it all in. She trailed her finger along the edge of the floating black stairs. Looked at the dark slate floors. Studied the gas fireplace that stood tall in front of the black leather couches. The black and white art on the walls was minimalist and could probably be recreated by a three-year-old with a paintbrush. And because it was New York and the artist thought they were someone special, it cost a pretty penny.
Finally, when Hannah finished her assessment, she turned and looked at me. “It could use a bowl of lemons.”
I couldn’t help myself. I threw my head back and let out a hearty laugh. This woman was going to be the death of me.
“I’m thoroughly convinced that you’re a supervillain and this is your secret lair,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Do you have gadgets?”
Another bark of laughter ripped out of my throat.
“Or maybe—” she grinned “—you’re actually Batman and Isaac Lawson is your cover for when you don’t feel like being Bruce Wayne or Batman.”
I bracketed my hands around her waist and chuckled. “You know what I think? ”
She giggled. “What?”
I hoisted her in the air and threw her ass up over my shoulder. Her skirt rode up, giving me another peek at the garters around her thighs. “I think you need the rest of the tour.”
Hannah squealed as I spun her around, bolting for my bedroom.
Things were easy with her. She was sassy as hell and I loved her mouth. She made me laugh. She made the stress of holding together thousands of jobs go away. She made the burden of the Lawson family name bearable.
Hannah didn’t look at me as a means to an end. She eased my tension and somehow made the good times even better.
And she had no idea.
“That was good.” Hannah grinned as she pulled her clothes back on.
As soon as I made it into the bedroom, I threw her down on my bed for a quick fuck. She was all about it, ripping my suit off as fast as she could.
I would have kept her tied to the bed all day if she would have let me, but I brought her to the city to show her a good time. We had a schedule to keep.
I heard the front door open and glanced at the clock. Right on time.
Hannah’s eyes widened with panic. “Who’s here? Is that Luca?” she whispered. “Fuck. I should have known he’d be traveling when we were here.”
Reluctantly, I got out of bed and pulled my boxers back on. I didn’t want to scare Spenser. “If you had been paying attention at Thanksgiving dinner, you’d know that Luca won’t be here until next week. ”
Hannah shot me a dirty look. Her big brown eyes narrowed into thin slits. “I would have been a better conversationalist if your fingers hadn’t been inside my pussy.”
I grinned and pulled her close. “You need to get better at compartmentalizing.”
Spenser was creating all kinds of racket in the other room—his casual way of letting me know he was there and I needed to be mostly clothed.
“Isaac, who is in your apartment?” she clipped through gritted teeth.
I tugged on my trousers and pulled my dress shirt back on. “C’mon. He’s here for you anyway.”
Hannah let out a nervous squeak in protest, but didn’t argue when I grabbed her hand and dragged her into the den.
Spenser Crenshaw stood in the living room next to the garment rack he rolled in. He was decked out in Italian loafers, slim trousers that stopped just above his ankles, and a paisley print shirt that was unbuttoned lower than would be appropriate—well—ever. It showed off his unnatural orange spray tan.
“Spense,” I said as I put my hand on the small of Hannah’s back. “Han, this is my executive assistant, Spenser Crenshaw. Spense, this is?—”
“Hannah Jane Hayes,” Spenser fawned, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it. “I’ve heard all about you.”
Hannah looked at me.
I shrugged. “Probably from Luca and Maddie.”
“You know Maddie?” Hannah Jane asked, her perfectly shaped brows arching up in surprise.
Spenser nodded. “Of course. I used to run in the same circles as Mr. DeRossi’s cunt of an assistant until he finally fired the bitch.”
I gave Hannah Jane a look that said I told you so .
Hannah plastered on a smile, “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Spenser. ”
With one hand on the garment rack and one hand holding Hannah’s, Spenser pulled them both toward my bedroom. “I’ve got this on lock, Lawson. How about you have some lunch sent up?”
“Who works for whom again?” I shouted across the apartment.
“Thanks, Lawson!” he called back. “Don’t forget I’m gluten-free and dairy-free on Fridays.”
I shook my head and wandered into my office. How did I end up with an assistant more high maintenance than me? Only somewhat begrudgingly, I ordered lunch for the three of us. He was doing me a favor, especially considering I gave him the day off.
Spenser’s husband was a fashion designer on the precipice of making it big. When I sent Spense a text with a photo of Hannah along with a message saying she’d need something to wear out in the city tonight, he just asked what time he needed to be over with options.
I buried myself in work, distracting myself from the peals of laughter coming from the other side of the apartment.
It was dark outside when I finally looked up from my computer with bloodshot eyes and found Spenser in the doorway.
“You look like hell, boss,” he said with a judgmental gaze.
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “Why do I pay you again?”
“To bring your girlfriend one-of-a-kind dresses that will for sure land her on the front page of whatever publication you approve of.”
“Your nondisclosure applies in this situation. Do I need to get one for Teddy, or can he keep his mouth shut?”
Spense raised his eyebrows and shut the door behind him. “He knows I’d divorce him for you. He’ll keep it quiet.”
I shot him a look. “No photos. No paparazzi.”
He wrinkled his nose in disgust and crossed his arms over the thin, linen shirt that was way too flimsy for November in New York. “Remind me why I just wasted a day off styling your girlfriend? ”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I clarified.
He dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand. “Nicely done, by the way. She’s a doll.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Where are you taking her?”
“DeRossi’s restaurant, and then the club,” I said, pushing out of my chair. I needed to change and run a comb through my hair before Alice came back with the car. “We’ll see where the night takes us after that.”
“Well,” Spense said, walking to the front door and snagging the garment rack. “Don’t call me until Monday and make good life choices.”
I waved him off and padded through the quiet apartment. “Han?” I called out.
Hannah was wrapped up in a silk robe that stopped mid-thigh. “Hey.” She smiled. “I was wondering where you disappeared to.”
I leaned in and trapped her chin between my thumb and index finger. “Work,” I mumbled against her lips. “Just catching up since I took some time off.”
She looked down at her bare feet, curling her toes in and then flexing them out. “Spenser is a riot,” she said with a half-cocked smile.
I hadn’t noticed it before, but she had taken off all her makeup. That was a revelation with all sorts of meanings I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
I figured out early on that she kept a secret cosmetic stash in that suitcase she called a purse.
Hannah had a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her tan skin was glowing. She had long lashes that didn’t require mascara, though I knew she favored it. Her lips were a sunset pink, begging to be kissed.
“You find something to wear?” I asked.
Hannah nodded, pointing at the garment bag hanging in the corner. “I think so. You never actually told me where we’re going.” She thought for a moment before adding in a mocking baritone, “Or really anything past Get on the plane, Hannah. We’re going to New York, Hannah. ”
“Smart-ass.”
She looked around the master bedroom.
I had to admit, she made a pretty good point earlier. My place did look a little like the Bat Cave—especially considering her house was the epitome of warm and welcoming southern hospitality. My apartment screamed, don’t touch.
Hannah looked at the entryway where my staff had brought her bags from the car. “Is there a guest room you want me to stay in?”
I gave her a curious look.
She smiled sheepishly and sat down on the edge of my bed. “I’m out of my element here, Lawson—I don’t know how this is supposed to work. We’re sleeping together, but not seeing each other. We’re going out on dates, but we’re not dating… I just, I don’t know how to do this. I like order and labels and itineraries and timelines.” She paused before adding, “I’m really trying here, but I feel like I’m teetering on a balance beam.”
“Will it kill you if I keep what we’re doing tonight a surprise?”
“Probably.”
“Will you trust me?” I amended.
Hannah offered a soft sigh and a heart-jerking smile. “Probably.”
I sat down on the bed and pulled her into my lap. She giggled, wrapping her arms around my neck. If anyone walked in and saw us, we would have looked like the picture of domestic bliss.
But that’s not what this was. We had a deal and nothing more.
“Then trust me when I tell you I don’t want you anywhere other than my bed. I want whatever you keep in that trunk you call a makeup case all over my bathroom. I want your clothes on my floor and your body around mine.” I pinned her with a serious stare. “Do we have a deal?”
My words knocked the air out of her lungs. She looked at me with wide eyes and nodded. “Deal.”