What the Heart Needs

by Jessica Gadziala

  Or maybe he was just that important of a person that they would drop everything they had going on just to be able to show their faces at his event.

  Somehow, she had the sneaking suspicion that was the case.

  “Girl,” she heard Tad accuse as soon as she walked back into the lobby. “you better call your mother.”

  Hannah stopped short, turning her curious gaze to Tad. “What are you talking about?”

  Tad walked with her into her office, settling down on the sofa while she delivered lunch to EM.

  “I got an almost frantic call from someone claiming to be your mother. She said she was looking for her daughter and she hasn’t heard from her in over a week and was about ready to drop everything in some place called Stars Landing and come and check to see if something happened to you.”

  Hannah sat down, putting her head in her hands. It wasn’t like her mother to be such a worrywart. Moira that happy, carefree hippie. Had it really been over a week since she spoke to her?

  “Yes,” Tad said, pulling out his cell phone and looking at some kind of article. “she said the only reason she wasn’t here already was because some girl at some inn or something told her that you mentioned the name of this place while you were talking a few weeks back. So she looked us up and called in.”

  Hannah sighed. “Thank god it was you who got her and not Sally. Could you imagine the disapproving look she would give me?”

  “Yeah,” Tad smiled, putting his phone away and looking suddenly serious. “Look, I know this job can be overwhelming. I just want to make sure that you aren’t letting it completely consume your life. You have to keep in touch with the outside world.”

  “I know. It’s just…”

  “Nothing,” Tad said, sweet but firm. “Call your mother. Go to the spa. Hang out with that guinea pig of yours. Read a book. Just get out of this mindset sometime. It’s not healthy.”

  Hannah sat for a long minute after Tad left. She made sure she called her mother when she got home. Even though it was after ten at night and her mother was clearly already asleep, she sounded suddenly alert and relieved. Her mother kept her until after midnight, asking a million questions and, more or less, giving her the same speech that Tad had a few hours before.

  --

  It took three separate appointments with catering companies for her to realize she really hated chefs. There was something about the way they adamantly believed their standard menu was the perfect one for every occasion. Perhaps Hannah was being too nit-picky about every little detail, but she wanted to make sure that everything was up to par. These people who would be attending certainly had more refined taste than herself.

  On her fourth try, she found a young up-and-coming company with a chef who wasn’t much older than herself. And while in the past she had dealt with office managers to make sure she had the pocket lining to be able to employ them before the chefs would even see her, the chef came right out of the kitchen, her jacket stained with all kinds of colors.

  Hannah felt comforted by her warm brown eyes and round face. “I’ll be honest with you. I am planning a black-tie event for my boss. I have never even been to a black-tie event so I am out of my depth here. And, I know you don’t know my boss, but trust me… the food has to be absolutely perfect.”

  Mary smiled, nodding ask she spoke. “It’s not that complicated. Given the fact that it is after eight at night- we wont need to do a sit down meal.”

  “That’s a new one,” Hannah said, sinking back against the chair.

  “Yeah well… the sit down dinner is where the money is. And I’m sure the other caterers saw you coming,” she smiled kindly. “No, we just need finger foods. A huge spread of them it sounds like. A good variety of them and a huge dessert spread,” she said, jotting down notes as she spoke. “Since they’re high powered businessmen and women, we need to have a back-bar fully stocked with premium liquors.”

  Hannah nodded, curious about EM drinking. He didn’t keep an liquor in the office and she never saw him outside of work. What was his drink? She couldn’t see him drinking anything mixed. Everything about him screamed that he took his liquor straight. Scotch. Or whiskey. Something strong. Powerful men liked powerful drinks.

  She left the caterer feeling confident in her choice. Mary seemed calm and confident and not at all snotty or arrogant. It took her an hour to track down some bands online that she wanted to go listen to. She silently prayed that she would get out of work before nine for the next few nights so she had time to see them in person.

  --

  In a few days, it was all squared away. The caterer had her set menu. The band, a nice eclectic group who would do a mix of jazz and blues and older pop hits, was lined up. She had an RSVP list that included all but one of the names on the list. Only because, his secretary had called to say, he was in the hospital. Apparently EM was as important as he appeared.

  She sat at her desk, breathing easy. It was all worked out. The cleaning lady would be coming every day for three days leading up to the event to make sure the house was absolutely pristine.

  The caterers, bartenders, band members, and valet drivers would arrive at five pm and she would be there to greet them and show them where everything was to be set up.

  Oh, god. She would be there.

  “Oh crap,” she said to herself.

  “What now,” Tad asked, playing with her hair.

  “I have to be there.”

  “Be where,” Tad asked, tying her hair into an intricate up-do after begging her to let him let it down. “the party?”

  “Yeah. He told me I was to set it up and then I had to be there for the whole thing so nothing goes wrong.”

  Tad had a crease between his brows. He looked curious and almost concerned at the same time. “He actually invited you to his event?”

  “No, I’m there to work,” she clarified, wondering what had put that look on Tad’s face.

  “No, honey,” he said, moving to sit on the couch. “aside from maybe giving an instruction to a server or two, which trust me he was more than capable of handling in the past, you will just be attending the event like everyone else.” When she shook her head, adamantly against agreeing to his line of thought. “Don’t shake your head at me. I’ve been here for longer than you. I have seen quite a few of these events go down. No one from this office has ever been invited. This is kinda a big deal, Hannah-Banana.”

  “Don’t say that,” Hannah objected, hopping out of her seat and pacing in front of the windows. She had enough pressure to deal with, she didn’t know what to make of this little tidbit of information. And, somehow, it had never even occurred to her to consider just how little work there would be for her to do there. Was she supposed to act almost like a host? Was she supposed to greet and chat with all these high-powered people? What would she even have to say to them? She was nowhere on their level. Maybe she could spend the night hiding away in the kitchen with Mary.

  “You’re going to need a dress,” Tad said, looking interested. “Like a nice dress. Somehow I doubt your closet is hiding any real treasures in it.”

  “Hey,” Hannah yelled, throwing a crumpled up piece of paper at him. “And I don’t think I need a dress. I could just wear slacks and a nice shirt.”

  “Um, no, princess,” Tad got up, smiling almost condescendingly. “You need a dress.”At her completely hopeless expression, he laughed. “No worries, I will take you dress shopping. Your taste obviously cant be trusted.”

  “Gee thanks,” she laughed, then sobered. “But seriously… thanks.”

  “Oh don’t kid yourself, this will be more fun for me than it will for you.”

  And it was. Hannah could feel frustration bubbling up under her skin after the fourth store Tad had dragged her through and announced that nothing was up to par. And these weren’t the department or box stores she was used to going to for clothes. Tad insisted that she had to bite the bullet and drop a pretty penny on
a dress (and shoes) for this kind of event. He dragged her to boutique stores where people asked them if they wanted wine or sparkling water and after the second store, she had started agreeing to the wine.

  At the fifth store, Tad had found five dresses and shoved her into the dressing room. He settled outside of them, sipping a mimosa and looking utterly at home. She wondered how much of his wardrobe was designer. She imagined all of it.

  The first dress was vivid blue and skin tight. She grimaced at her reflection, it clung to things she really didn’t want highlighted, despite having losing a good ten pounds the past few weeks.

  “No,” Tad said before she could barely open the door fully.

  “Agreed.”

  “It’s the pink one,” Tad said when the closed the door.

  “Then why make me try all of these on,” she asked.

  “References,” he said matter-of-factly, as if it was known by everyone else but her.

  Hannah decided to cut to the chase and put the pink one on next. She didn’t need references. She struggled to get the zip up the back before turning to look at her reflection. “Oh,” she said out loud.

  It was a very light coral pink with a boustier top, tight midriff that flared out at her upper thighs and fell just above her knees. It made her look thin and curvy all at the same time and the color offset her pale skin and dark hair. She had never felt more lovely in anything else before.

  “Oh,” Tad’s response mirrored her own when she walked out. He stood up with a huge smile that matched hers. “I knew it. Perfect.”

  --

  Hannah tried to keep her nerves under control the days leading up to the event. She slept even less than she had been sleeping before. The day of the event, Elliott had informed her via Sally that she wasn’t expected in at work. She was to go straight to his house and handle all the comings and goings as he could not be there himself.

  She was excited to have the day off so she could make sure everything went off without a hitch.

  And then she got a phone call from the housekeeper at seven in the morning of that day. Hannah felt her heart sink when she was informed that her ever punctual and accommodating housekeeper had broken her hand while playing with her grandchildren and would not be able to be at the house to clean for the party.

  Hannah spent all of two minutes wallowing in her misfortune before she snapped out of it, packed her dress and shoes and makeup into her car, changed into a sweatshirt, leggings, and sneakers and drove to EM’s house, bent on cleaning the house top to bottom herself.

  It was the first time she had ever seen his house. But ‘house’ was not the right word to describe where he lived. Perhaps ‘estate’ was more appropriate. She had to pull into the gated community and tell the security guard who she was and accepting a quick set of directions from him. She drove past massive houses with perfectly manicured lawns. The trees were mature and provided charming shade that reminded her of her hometown. Finally she pulled up to the correct house and up the massive winding driveway. Climbing out of her car, she looked up at his house with a sense of awe.

  It was a huge two story house with a stone front and large windows. The front door was painted red like her parent’s front door. Despite its enormous size, it seemed quaint and homey to her.

  It wasn’t what she was expecting at all. She had pictured something in simple stucco or glass and metal. Something cold and sterile.

  Punching in the pass code to the security system he had provided her with the night before, she let herself in.

  The entryway was enormous with a horseshoe shaped staircase. All of the flooring was gorgeous, shiny dark wood. To her right was a study with an executive desk facing away from floor to ceiling bookshelves that were, surprisingly, packed. To her left was an enormous sitting room with couches of buttery looking brown leather and captain’s chairs of brown and cream stripes. Judging by the EM headquarters and his house, either EM or his interior decorator really had a thing for earth tones.

  Hannah walked straight ahead underneath the balcony from the second floor and toward, where she assumed, she would find the kitchen. She passed two full bathrooms and another, smaller sitting room which held a huge flat screen television and reclining chairs. All the way toward the back of the house, she found a kitchen that was bigger than her entire apartment. It was stark in all shades of white, tile, backsplash, and cabinets. The countertops and appliances were stainless steel. He had the largest stovetop she had ever seen with eight burners. Mary was going to love it.

  Past the kitchen was an all-seasons room made completely of windows. There were comfortable looking fabric chairs and an abundance of greenery. She could see a huge in-ground pool set far in the backyard.

  Hannah let out a wistful sigh, and went in search of cleaning supplies which she found in a small closet off of the kitchen.

  As she dusted every surface and scrubbed the floors on her hands and knees, she silently thanked her mother for sending her to her grandmother’s house every Sunday afternoon to help her keep house. Her grandmother had grown up in a generation where men had went out and been breadwinners and the women had stayed home and raised children, and cooked meals, and made sure that their houses were absolutely spotless at all times. If a surface she had cleaned came out streaky, she was forced to go back and redo it until she had gotten it right. And while EM’s house was already very clean thanks to her decisive choice in housekeepers, she knew from her grandmother that there was certainly no such thing as “too clean”.

  She had steadfastly made her way through the kitchen, the bathrooms, and the sitting rooms. She took breaks only to change out the water in her bucket and get more paper towels.

  Time escaped her, huge chunks at a time. And before she thought it was possible, the caterers and servers were already at the door. She let them in and hurried to get back to the study to get it done so she could properly oversee the comings and goings of all the people in the house.

  She had pulled the stationary desk chair and pulled it closer to the bookshelves, climbing it carefully until one of her legs was on the very top and the other was tip-toeing on the arm, just barely touching it so she could reach the top of the shelf.

  “What are you doing,” came a voice at her side. EM. Somehow he had come in and up behind her without her even hearing him.

  At the interruption, she lost her focus and, therefore, her careful balance. She barely had a chance to yelp as her foot slipped and she was falling.

  She closed her eyes against the hard ground she was about to hit. And then felt her body falling into EM’s strong arms.

  “Whoa,” he said, with what sounded like a smile in his voice.

  Hannah opened her eyes slowly, looking up into Elliott’s startling blue ones. He was smiling!

  She felt his arms cradling her carefully, one behind her back and the other under her knees. Only he could actually catch her as perfectly as men did in the movies.

  “Are you alright,” he asked, not taking his eyes off of her face.

  “I… yeah. You caught me,” she said dumbly.

  Elliott chuckled. He actually chuckled. She felt the sound reverberate through her. “Yes I did. I wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t been trying to climb my bookshelves like a spider monkey.”

  Hannah felt a giggle escape her. He was so close. And he still hadn’t thought to put her down yet. Not that she was complaining, she actually felt comfortable, secure. “I was cleaning.” she clarified.

  “Yes, that part was obvious,” he said, his face sobering. “What isn’t clear is why. I thought I had a housekeeper for that.”

  “She called me this morning. She broke her hand.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” Elliott said, considering her through heavy-lidded eyes. “But doesn’t explain why YOU were cleaning my house.”

  “I want everything to be perfect,” she told him honestly.

  A softness came to his face then, as if somet
hing she said was sweet, or touching in some way. “From the looks of it, everything is perfect.”

  “I didn’t get to finish those…”

  “You are not to finish those shelves. Am I clear,” she opened her mouth to protest, but he interrupted her. “They were cleaned twice this week already. I don’t want you getting hurt, Hannah.”

  Hannah felt butterflies flood her stomach. He had never called her by name before. She could practically feel herself melting in his arms.

  He looked at her for a moment before clearing his throat and carefully placing her feet on the floor.

  She had a moment to feel exceptionally self-conscious. He had never seen her in anything but work attire and here she was in sweat clothes. Oh, god, and she was sweaty! Way to ruin her professional appearance.

  He wasn’t supposed to be home so early.

  “What were you planning on doing… cleaning then running home to change,” he asked, looking her from the feet up.

  She squirmed under his inspection. “I brought my things. I was just going to change in the bathroom.”

  Elliott shook his head, running a hand over his scruffy face. “Where’s your stuff?” “In the sitting room,” she told him, a curious line forming between her eyebrows.

  “Go grab it,” he told her and turned to pull his office chair back into place.

  She came back quickly with her black garment bag, box of shoes, and small makeup pouch.

  “I’ll show you somewhere that you can shower and get dressed. You’ve worked enough already. I’ll point the staff where they need to go for now.”

  When he finished speaking, he turned and started up the staircase without waiting for her to respond. She scrambled up behind him down a hallway with two bedrooms and a bath. He led her into a door to what looked like the master bedroom with its deep green walls and comforter. It was his bedroom, she realized with a start. He opened a door and let her into a bathroom that was as big as the lobby at work.

  Inside was warm tan tiling, a two vanity sink, an enormous glass shower with four showerheads, and… oh, the biggest, deepest tub she had ever seen in her life.