What the Heart Needs

by Jessica Gadziala

  She wasn’t the kind of woman who wouldn’t berrate herself about a lapse in her personal judgement. She kept herself so tightly controlled that this must have been killing her.

  Elliott walked around his room, picking up the discarded items of his clothing. He was going to have to find a way to discuss it with her. He laughed a little realizing how well his last attempt at talking to her went. If he tried to bring it up and she looked over at him with those expressive eyes, he knew he was going to take her right then and there.

  Not that there would be anything wrong with that, but he needed to get through to her.

  He piled his clothes on top of the closed hamper and walked around the bed. Squinting he saw something poking out from underneath. Kneeling down, he pulled out a small slip of tan cotton.

  Her panties.

  Elliott smiled, a big, awkward smile he wasn’t used to. She had left her panties.

  Well he was just going to have to return them to her, wasn’t he?

  Ten

  Her stomach was twisted in knots before she even got out of bed the next morning. She walked to the bathroom feeling nauseated at having to face him. She winced, feeling a soreness between her legs she hadn’t expected. It was going to be a long day.

  She had spent an hour trying home remedies to get rid of the hickies on her neck. Ice, peppermint oil, aloe vera, scraping it with a fork. To no avail. With growing agitation, she applied three different kinds of makeup and reduced the angry red and purple splotches to a dark shadow under cake makeup. So she pulled her long black hair and tied it into a loose braid on that side of her neck which seemed to keep her secret hidden.

  When Elliott arrived, she and Tad were getting a lecture from a particularly surly Sally about filing the files correctly, although both knew it wasn’t their screw up on a three year inactive file. She felt his eyes land on her and kept her gaze fixedly on Sally’s, nodding.

  She had already put his coffee on his desk. She wouldn’t need to see him until midmorning or lunch unless he was going to be spiteful and call her in.

  Hannah felt her cheeks blush a little, her mind flashing beyond her control back to his hands on her breasts, his lips on her neck.

  “Understood,” Hannah said to Sally who was staring at her with unmasked annoyance.

  Hannah walked into her office, Tad following close behind her. “Well that was fun,” she said, sitting down at her desk.

  She had noticed that Tad had stooped down and retrieved something from the floor. Another letter. And he was opening it and reading it.

  “Die whore,” he read out loud, looking up at Hannah with astonishment. “What the hell is this?”

  Hannah shrugged, “It’s nothing.”

  Tad walked over to the desk, putting the paper down in front of her and stabbing his finger at the words. “This is a three paragraph threatening letter.”

  Hannah felt her stomach flutter. A little part of her wanted to reach out to Tad, to let the stress pour out of her and feel some relief. But another, larger, part of her wanted to cover it. She didn’t know where the urge came from, some desire to not show weakness even to a good friend. Maybe the feeling stemmed from a fear of there being some truth in the words now. She had slept with him. She had become that woman who slept with her boss. And there was some shame in that for her.

  Maybe she deserved the letters.

  “Hannah,” Tad said, moving around the desk to crouch next to her chair. “What the hell is going on?”

  “It’s just a note, Tad. Kinda like all the rumors going on around here.”

  “Why don’t you seem the least bit shocked about this? Read it,” he demanded, pushing it into her hands.

  Die whore. I know what is going on. You cant hide your slutty agenda.

  What makes you think he would be interested in you? You’re nothing. A girl from some silly small town no one has ever gotten out of. You have never held a job for more than a couple months. You can barely pay your bills.

  He would never want someone as pathetic and useless as you. You should just throw yourself in front of a car. No one would miss you. Better you do it now to yourself. Or who knows what could happen to you.

  “This isn’t nothing and it certainly isn’t just some stupid office rumors.”

  “Tad, its no big deal.”

  “What the fuck, Hannah,” Tad exploded, standing up and pacing a few feet next to her. “How long has this been going on?”

  Hannah openend her mouth, caught and unable to come up with any kind of cover story. “Hannah,” EM’s voice boomed over the intercom. “I need a copy of the correspondence between you and Tanner Construction.”

  Hannah felt a rush of relief, turning to stab the intercom buttom. “Alright I’ll have it in a minute.”

  She turned her attention to her computer screen, typing in the email address and printing all the letters she had written back and forth with them for weeks. Why EM suddenly needed them was beyond her, but she was so thankful at the interruption she didn’t even care.

  Tad stood there watching her type and click and print things. She could feel the tension stemming from his body, but actively ignored him.

  Finally, Tad cursed, throwing the letter back on her desk. “Fine,” he said, starting for the door. “but this isn’t over. You’re going to clue me in on everything Hannah-Banana.”

  When the door shut behind him, she had a moment of elation before she realized that she was going to have to go in and talk to EM.

  Was this him just trying to force her to talk to him again? It made no sense why he needed the emails, let alone immediately. She wasn’t ready to face him. She thought she would have hours to prepare and lose some of her anxiety.

  She carefully tapped the pages into a pile, sighed dramatically, and opened the door into EM’s office.

  Hannah felt relief rush over her like a tidal wave when she saw that EM was having a loud conversation with someone on the phone. “I have the correspondence right here…” his voice sounded clipped, slightly annoyed. He tapped the desk in front of himself quickly and Hannah scurried to place the pages down and rush right back out again.

  Had she messed up somewhere along the line? Someone was obviously calling to complain about something she said to them. Part of her had wanted to stay, to hear things out, to defend herself if EM started to place blame. The other part of her couldn’t even bear to make eye contact with EM. She was sure her face would break into a hot-red blush.

  When she got back into her office, Tad was sitting on the edge of her desk. He gestured to the desk surface where four more envelopes sat unopened.

  “I’m guessing these are more of the same,” he said, gesturing with a danish in his hand. He scoffed at her shrug and frowned. “Why wouldn’t you tell me, Hannah? I could have helped.”

  “Helped how, Tad?” Hannah asked, gathering up the letters and opening the packed box and slipping them inside. “Talking to HR? What could they possibly say? There’s nothing in these suggesting who might be writing them.”

  Tad reached out, taking the box from her hands and opening it. A darkness came across his face, turning his skin a lighter, sickly color. It was a look that made her want to rush over and hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay. His fingers dug through the letters. He occasionally picked one up and scanned it, cursing under her breath and reaching for another.

  “When did this start?” he asked, breaking a silence that stretched longer than felt comfortable.

  “I don’t know. I think it was around the time those girls called me fat. When the office rumors were new.”

  “Jesus, Hannah. Why would you suffer this alone? Maybe I could have put feelers out and see if anyone knew where the rumors started. I didn’t think it was this serious.”

  “They’re just notes. They’re awful and creepy but it hasn’t escalated or anything. Just more and more every few days. And emails too. And this,” she said, clearing f
olders off her desktop and moving the huge calendar.

  Tad let out a low, long whistle. “This is some crazy stalker stuff right here. Maybe it’s like that movie and it’s the person who developes your pictures that got all obsessed with you.”

  Hannah chuckled, thankful that Tad found some humor in the situation. It wasn’t like him to be so severe. “Except no one actually uses film anymore.”

  “True,” Tad shrugged, rubbing a rough edge of a nail against his jeans. “Hey,” he said, his face snapping up. “did you ever consider that it might be Dan?”

  Dan? Hannah felt some of the pieces fall together. Who else would have a motive greater than EM’s soon to be ex-wife? And she seemed like the kind of cold, viscious person to do something like threaten her. But why would she even think she was a threat?

  The image on EM on top of her, her nails digging into his back popped into her head. She shook it off quickly. It all started way before that anyway.

  But, Hannah realized with a start, Dan wasn’t just some crazy irrationally jealous wife anymore. She had every right to see Hannah as a threat. She had slept with her husband, regardless of their seperation. Maybe she did this to all the assistants. It certainly explained why no one seemed to last in that position.

  “You should go to the police,” Tad interrupted her train of thought. “Bring this box and let them go all CSI on it.”

  Hannah smiled. “They wouldn’t have anything to compare it to though,” she answered, shuffling the pages neatly away in the box.

  “You don’t know that. Maybe they have a crazy psycho stalker database or something.” At her raised eyebrow, he laughed. “Alright fine. I get it. There’s not enough to go on, but I’d feel better if you at least got some professional advice.”

  Hannah patted Tad’s knee. “If there’s something more to go on, I will.”

  But it would get her nowhere. She had learned in college when one of her dorm-mates had a crazy stalker ex-boyfriend sending her notes and leaving creepy pictures- that stalking was the fastest growing crime and there is very little legistlature to prevent or stop it until something violent happens. It was a sad reality she watched her friend live through for almost two years before it suddenly stopped. The police they had spoken to one night when he had gotten into their rooms and written in what looked like blood on the walls, that it was become more and more prominent because of how public young people’s lives were online. Hannah had followed his advice and deleted all of her social media to lessen the liklihood of becoming a victim herself.

  And there she was anyway.

  “Hey,” she said, looking at Tad checking his email on his phone. “Do me a favor?”

  “For you,” Tad smirked. “anything. Except dye your hair blond. Because you would look hideous.”

  Hannah laughed. “Gee, thanks. But no. Please don’t tell anyone about this. The rumors are bad enough. I don’t want people knowing and possibly escalating the situation.”

  “Oh, pumpkin,” Tad smiled, pulling her hand up to his lips and kissing it. “your secret it safe with me. And if you ever figure out who this bitch is- I’ll help you kick her ass. Or,” he said, reaching for the doorknob. “you know… give her a really awful perm or something.”

  Hannah felt a surprising sense of relief. Of course anything that causes serious emotional turmoil always feels more manageable when it is shared with a close personal friend. But actually being able to joke about it made it feel less overwhelming. She should have known she could count on Tad. Why she felt the need to keep it from him was beyond her. Maybe she was worried he would be able to see truth beyond the harsh words. And she couldn’t bear Tad thinking of her that way.

  “Hannah,” EM’s voice interrupted, sounding irritated and tired.

  Hannah sighed, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. If she tried really hard, she could come off as cool and unaffected. As if randomly screwing around with her boss was no big deal, or, even something she was used to doing. Better for him to think of her as loose and casual about sex. Maybe the whole thing could blow over and become a vague memory.

  EM sat uncharacteristically slumped in his chair, one of his elbows resting on the surface of his desk. When she closed the door, his starling blue eyes found hers and she felt her belly flutter quickly before she looked pointedly away.

  “Sit,” Elliott said, gesturing toward a chair. He liked the way her hair looked braided heavily to one side. He liked it even better knowing the reason she had it that way was because of the marks he had left there from his lips and teeth and stubble.

  She was carrying herself straighter than usual. There was a coldness there that he knew she was trying to wear as a front. She sat down slowly, wincing, and he felt a surge of primal male pride.

  A beat or two must have passed as he looked at her because one of her dark eyebrows arched haughtily. He felt a chuckle starting and stifled it. But he couldn’t quite hide the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips. “So I’m sure you remember Bob Tanner from the event at my house…”

  Hannah felt a sick feeling rise in her throat as it all fell into place. “Bob who is into costruction,” she responded quietly. Bob the sleaze ball was Bob Tanner or Tanner Construction.

  “Well you’ve been corresponding with him for weeks over some issues with the deal we made a few months ago for me to take over his company. Hence why I needed the copies of the emails today. He’s claiming incompetence and wants a meeting with me, James, and you.”

  Oh, god.

  “Needless to say,” Elloitt said, holding a hand up. “That is not going to happen. I looked over everything and you handled it all the way I would have told you to. He’s angry because he wont own the lion’s share of his company anymore and wants to get it all overturned on a technicality claiming I had you handle the deal without proper supervision or knowledge of the topic.”

  Hannah sank into her seat. Oh, no. Maybe she should have consulted him, but she had been too busy trying to ignore him because he made her feel so uncomfortable that she just dealt with it all herself based on information in the file. Had she actually screwed up a multi-million dollar deal?

  “Hey,” Elliott’s voice broke in, soft and close. She looked up to find that he had gotten up to the front of his desk. Her knees brushed his slacks. “I can see those gears turning. This wont hold up. I just wanted to fill you in. And I want to make sure all of the future correspondence goes through me- just to leave you out of it.”

  “Okay,” Hannah said, her eyes focused on his jaw line so she didn’t have to look him in the eye. But then he leaned forward toward her and she glanced up worridly.

  “He’s just mad. It will blow over.”

  Hannah looked up at him and nodded then watched as his hand left his side and moved toward her hair where he gently grabbed her braid and moved it to the side. A rare smile lit up his face. She felt his cool fingertips rub across the sensitive, inflamed skin.

  “I must say, you’ve covered it up quite well. But we both know what is under all that makeup.”

  Elliott watched as her eyes went round and her cheeks turned pink. A low, appreciative chuckle escaped him as he ran his fingertips toward her jaw. “Hannah…”

  Three loud knocks interrupted him and Hannah jumped visibly away. Elliott sighed.

  “Mr. Michaels,” Sally’s shrill voice sounded from outside.

  “Yes, Sally, come in,” Elliott said, moving toward his chair.

  Sally walked in , dressed in a severe black suit and holding a clipboard against her chest. “Mr. Black is here, sir.” She didn’t wait for a response, simply waved the man into the room and left without another word.

  Mr. Black was dissimilar to Elliott in every way but one- they were both unusually tall. Where Elliott was dark-haired and bright-eyed, Mr. Black had Midwestern cornsilk blond hair much too long to seem professional and had big deep brown eyes that reminded her of a deer. His face was fuller, his jawbone wide and strong.
His blue suit fell nicely over his wide chest and shoulders.

  Hannah sat there watching the two men greet each other warmly and exchanging pleasantries. Mr. Black smiled easily, reminding her of James. When his gaze fell on her, Elliott’s smile faded a bit. It would have been unnoticeable by anyone who wasn’t acuretly aware of his facial expressions.

  “Tate Black, this is Hannah Clary, my assistant. Hannah this is Tate, my attorney.”

  Tate walked over, his smile creasing the skin deep into his cheeks and revealing disarmingly charming dimples and perfect teeth. “Hannah, nice to meet you.”

  Hannah stood and shook the hand he extended to her, her lips falling into a smile to match his. “Oh, geez. I hope you’re not here to get Mr. Michael’s out of the trouble I have apparently gotten him into.”

  “Oh, I’m sure that isn’t what happened,” Tate said, finally releasing her hand from his broad, warm one full of callouses.

  “It’s not,” Elliott’s voice broke in, clipped and authoritative. “Hannah…” he said, looking pointedly toward the door.

  Although he was always brash and grating, something about being dismissed bothered her more than it should have. With startling clarity, she realized it was because they had slept together. And that was entirely unacceptable. She needed to act and feel as though nothing had happened.

  “Right, well, I have work to do. It was nice to meet you Mr. Black,” she said, walking out and closing the door before he even responded.

  She needed to pull herself together. Plenty of women had sex with people they saw every day and managed to act like nothing happened. They certainly didn’t get their heckles up when said person behaved toward them the way they always had. She would have to learn to act that way.

  Even though just five minutes before, he had been touching her neck and filling her mind with images or memoires until she was turned on fully just by the thought of him.