She smiled at him, her worry seeming to ease a bit, and they rode the rest of the way to the restaurant in silence. They were led right to their table and ordered drinks—a beer for him and a lemon drop for her—while looking over the menu options.
“I’m going to do their prix fixe menu with the steak and raspberry ganache torte for dessert. What are you thinking of getting?”
Hannah’s eyes were wide. The dim lighting made her pearly skin seem to glow, the warmth from the oil lamp on their table casting a golden hue on her complexion, making her eyes a deep forest green. “Everything’s so expensive.” Her eyes darted around, and she leaned closer to make sure he could hear her whisper. “Are you sure? I could just get the chicken.” She made a face when she looked down, and he could tell that she’d noticed that the chicken dish she referred to was almost twenty dollars.
He leaned in close and whispered as well, unable to fully suppress the laughter that was fighting to get out. “Get whatever you want, Hannah. I have a full time job and cheap rent. I can afford to splurge on you tonight.”
She pulled back, giving him a doubtful look, but when the waitress came she got the prix fixe menu as well, selecting the fish and the creme brûlée. He smiled to himself that she believed him
“So how’s the internship going?”
Looking at him over the rim of her martini glass, her eyebrows raised, then scrunched together, finally settling low over her narrowed eyes as she lowered her glass. “Are you asking as my HR manager or my boyfriend?”
He let out a laugh. “Your boyfriend. Are you liking it? Learning a lot? You tell me all about school, but you don’t talk to me about work. You’ve said before that this was your dream internship. So is it living up to your expectations?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “I love it. Sandra’s awesome. I’ve learned so much from her already, and I love the philosophy behind the company.” Launching into more detail, she told him all about the different social media campaigns she was working on and how much fun she was having. He wished he could manage half the enthusiasm for work that she had.
The waitress bringing their food interrupted her, and after they both cut into their entrees and started eating, she brought the conversation around to him. “What about you? Do you like working there?”
He shrugged. “It’s alright.” And cut another bite of his steak. It was cooked perfectly, juicy, red in the middle surrounded by pink, the sauce with it perfectly complementing the flavor.
He raised his eyes to Hannah’s when she made an irritated sound in her throat. “What?”
She imitated his shrug. “It’s alright.” Her voice was pitched low and dumb sounding. Is that how she really thought he sounded? “Come on. You don’t have anything else to say? I’ve been going on and on and you give me two words.” She shook her head at him and took a drink of her water.
He shrugged again. “It’s work. They pay me. It’s not the most exciting thing in the world. It’s a good job, they pay well, it has good benefits, and they care about their employees. What else do you want me to say?”
She stared at him for a minute, not moving, then shook her head a little. “If that’s not what you want to do, then why are you doing it?”
“I told you. It pays well, it’s not a bad place to work. Not everyone gets to do what they love for a living.”
She spluttered, looking around the room, trying to find something to say to that. “Okay, fine. I guess somebody has to be a janitor or a garbageman or something. But you just graduated. You haven’t even tried doing something you’d really like. Why not? What better time to do what you want, what you love, than now?”
He didn’t say anything, keeping his attention on his food. The idea of doing something he really liked seemed silly and farfetched. He knew from a young age that dreams were for night time. Days were for working and earning money. At least he wasn’t working on a fishing boat or in the Coast Guard like his dad had been growing up. Those were about the only options in Westport, and neither paid well enough for the amount of work and commitment they required. But how could he explain that to Hannah? He hadn’t even talked about that with Chris or Lance. For all they knew, he was doing what he wanted to do. But surfing for a living wasn’t practical or possible. He wasn’t good enough to go pro, and how else could you make it your job? No, what he needed to do was get a good enough job to save some money and get some experience, then he could find a job somewhere he could surf.
As if she could read his mind, she asked, “What would you want to do if you could do anything?”
He stilled, his knife partway into his steak. Before answering he finished cutting the bite, placing it in his mouth, chewing it while he looked into Hannah’s wide eyes, deciding what exactly to tell her. “If I could do anything, like if money didn’t matter? Or I could get paid to do whatever I liked?”
She nodded, her bottom lip between her teeth again, leaning in close, inviting his confidence.
He took a deep breath. “I’d love it if I could get paid to surf. But teaching surfing lessons pays crap, and I know I can’t go pro, so that’s not possible.” The need to shut down that dream before she could even acknowledge it, much less float possibilities his way, was almost automatic.
She sat back in her chair looking thoughtful. Her mouth opened to say something, but before she could, a voice interrupted them.
“Hey, you two. Fancy running into you here.”
Matt’s stomach clenched, nausea gripping him. He thought he might be sick right here all over the table.
Sandra, Hannah’s supervisor and mentor in the marketing department, stood next to their table. Her brown eyes far too perceptive behind her glasses, cataloging him, their table, Hannah. Shit. Shit shit shit fucking shitty shit. He was so screwed.
Hannah straightened in her chair. “Hey, Sandra. How’s it going?” Her voice came out remarkably calm, but he could detect an undertone of panic.
Sandra nodded, crossing her arms over the slinky purple sheath dress she wore, her dark hair tied up in a knot on the back of her head. “Good. I’m out with my husband for Valentine’s Day. And you two are on a ... date?”
She raised her eyebrows at him on the last word. He swallowed convulsively, fighting down the bile in his throat.
Hannah pushed her chair back and stood. “Sandra, can I talk to you?”
Sandra pulled her eyes from him slowly, looking Hannah up and down again. “Sure. What do you need?”
Hannah led her away from the table toward the restrooms at the front of the restaurant. Matt sat at the table, sucking down his ice water, trying to fight back the panic. If Sandra said anything to anyone, he’d get fired and Hannah wouldn’t get offered a summer internship, if she was even allowed to finish this one. He was pretty sure they’d let her finish, blaming him for the relationship since he was in the position of power. It would reflect badly on her, but she wouldn’t be overtly punished. He definitely would.
Fuck.
When Hannah sat back down she gave him a tight smile. “Don’t worry. She won’t say anything.”
“Good.” He was so thrown off by the whole thing that he couldn’t manage more than one word replies.
The waitress came and cleared their dinner plates. “Ready for your dessert?”
He gave a nod and a tight smile. “Sure.” If they hadn’t already ordered dessert at the beginning, he’d suggest leaving now.
They both picked at their desserts in silence. He was still reeling from Sandra’s appearance, despite Hannah’s reassurance that everything would be okay. He didn’t know Sandra that well, so he wasn’t sure how much he could trust her to keep her mouth shut.
Glancing up, he noticed that Hannah had set her spoon down, her creme brûlée only about half eaten. She stared at him, her face blank, and he looked down at the mess he’d made of his own dessert, smashing into it repeatedly with his fork, only managing a few bites, his stomach still churning.
Dammit, and now he was rui
ning what was supposed to be a romantic evening where he told his girlfriend he loved her. With his current attitude, he didn’t trust himself not to fuck that up, too, and decided tonight was not the night after all. He’d save the necklace and those three words for another time.
He set his fork down, meeting Hannah’s eyes. “Are you ready to go?”
She nodded, not speaking. As soon as their waitress came close enough, he caught her eye and asked for the check.
She looked concerned as she took in the state of their desserts. “Was everything okay?”
Hannah offered her a wan smile. “It was delicious. I think we’re both just full from dinner.”
The waitress nodded and smiled back, setting the little black folder on their table and gathering their plates. Matt slid his card into the folder before she left, and she came back in a couple of minutes with the slip for him to sign.
Scrawling his signature, he replaced the paper in the folder and stood. Hannah stood too, grabbing her coat and scarf and following him to the door.
He drove her back to her apartment. She paused before pulling the handle to get out and looked at him. He tensed, his hands gripping the steering wheel, waiting for whatever she had to say. “Do—“ She licked her lips. “Do you want to come in?”
Blowing out a breath, he shook his head. “Not tonight. I’m sorry, I just ... I’m all tense and edgy, and I don’t want to take that out on you.”
She nodded, looking down so her hair swung forward, and he couldn’t see her expression. “Okay.” Her voice was little more than a whisper, and without leaning in for a kiss like she normally did, she climbed out of the car and slammed the door before he could do or say anything else.
He stared after her walking toward the stairs to her apartment, wondering if he should go after her, and then she was up the stairs and hidden from sight. Cursing at himself for being a jackass, he drove away.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Valentine’s Day had turned into a disaster. This night that had started out so perfectly, ended on such a sour note, and Hannah had to fight back the tears when she got home. Thankfully Elena had gone out after all. The orange flower on the table mocked her. She turned and went into her room, alone, taking a hot shower, and lying in bed. She’d planned on doing the walk of shame tomorrow, spending the night with Matt, and instead lay in her bed and cried about how fast he’d changed just from the appearance of Sandra at their table.
What would this mean for their relationship? He’d barely spoken after she’d gotten back from talking to Sandra, convincing her that her relationship with Matt had started before she’d gotten the internship. Since internships were decided before he’d even started working there officially, he couldn’t have influenced the internship decision committee, so Sandra had agreed that since she wasn’t a real employee and they knew each other outside of work, that she wouldn’t rat them out.
“Be careful,” she’d warned. “That boy has a reputation, and if anyone else finds out, you’ll both be in trouble.” She glanced toward where Matt still sat at their table. “Him more than you.”
Hannah nodded. “I know. Thanks.”
The next day, Monday, Hannah was a little nervous about how Sandra might treat her, but she treated her the same as always, checking up on her work, showing her new things, being her usual great self. She didn’t see Matt, but that was pretty normal. They avoided each other at work, unless he was checking up on all the interns, and then they kept their conversations brief and professional.
At the end of the day, she’d finally gotten a text from him. The first communication since he’d dropped her off the night before. Dinner tonight?
The angry, spiteful part of her thought about telling him no, but the truth was that she did want to see him. If for no other reason than to figure out where they would go from here. Did he want to break up? Cool it until her internship was over? She needed to know what he was thinking.
Sure.
Great. I’ll text you when I get home.
Apparently that meant dinner at his place. Well, after being seen while out on a date, she guessed she couldn’t blame him for being a little nervous about going out again so soon.
When she got to his house about an hour later, she knocked on the door and let herself in. He came out of the kitchen dressed in a t-shirt that clung to the defined muscles of his chest and shoulders and faded jeans, his bare toes peeking out from the hem. This was her favorite look on him.
She stood by the door, fiddling with the keys still in her hand, unsure what to say or do. He walked right up to her, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her hair. “I’m sorry for last night, Hannah. Sandra surprised me, and I didn’t handle it well, and I fucked up the rest of our night.”
He pulled back enough to look down into her face. “Are you mad at me?”
She took in the mixture of pain and hope on his face, his blue eyes pleading, and shook her head. “No. I’m not mad. I don’t like it when you pull away like that, and I don’t know what you’re thinking. You’re good at hiding your thoughts when you want to, and that leaves me hurt and confused, unsure of where I stand with you.”
He grimaced. “I’m sorry. I am. I never want to hurt you. I’ll try not to do that again.”
She nodded, and he kissed her, a brief press of his lips to hers. It wasn’t their normal greeting kiss, but the fact that he still held her and talked to her and wasn’t completely shutting her out made her feel better, more settled.
“How did work go today? Did Sandra give you a hard time?”
She shook her head. “No. She acted normal, like nothing was different.”
“Good.” He looked at the door behind her head for a moment, thinking, then shook his head, letting out a long breath. “Okay. Good.” His eyes found hers again. “Do you think she’s going to say anything to anyone?”
“No. Sandra’s not a gossip. And I told her that we’ve known each other for years and that you’re not taking advantage of me or anything. She warned me to be careful, both because of your reputation and because if anyone else finds out we’ll both be in trouble.”
He pressed his lips together when his reputation came up, his face tight, but he didn’t interrupt. When she finished talking, his eyes roamed over her face, searching, and he nodded once. “Okay. She’s right, and I’m glad she’s not treating you differently. If anyone else finds out, I don’t want any of this to blow back on you.” His fingers caressed her cheek, and she turned her face into his hand, taking comfort in the gesture.
He seemed to relax after that, and Hannah relaxed as well. No mention was made of them taking a break or breaking up altogether, and she was glad. But the easy togetherness they’d had before had vanished, and even though they both pretended everything was back to normal, Hannah was more careful of her words and actions both with him and at work, and she felt like he was doing the same thing. Every evening he would ask her if Sandra acted differently. And every evening she assured him that no, everything was fine. Sandra wasn’t going to out them.
By Saturday things had calmed down enough that Matt greeted her with a passionate kiss when she came over for Abby’s birthday party. She got there a little early to help Megan get everything ready.
“Get a room, you two.” Megan’s voice cut into the haze of desire that always swamped her when Matt had her wrapped up in him, his tongue in her mouth, his arms holding her tight against his body, one hand in her hair, the other on her ass.
He pulled back with a smile, placing another soft kiss on her mouth. “If you insist.” Both hands went to Hannah’s ass and lifted, and she let out a yelp of surprise before wrapping her legs around his waist, her hands clinging to his shoulders. He turned and started carrying her toward his bedroom.
“Wait! No! Hannah’s here to help me, not for you to screw her brains out! You’ll have to wait until later.”
Matt stopped, his grin still in place. “Aw. That’s too bad.” He loosened his grip and let
her slide down his front. Hannah reluctantly let go with her legs until her feet were on the floor again. Going into his room sounded like a great idea to her, especially with that kind of greeting after a stressful week of walking on eggshells around each other. After hearing Chris and Megan going at it while trying to watch a movie with Matt in the living room, she’d gotten over her fear of being heard. She figured if they weren’t shy, she shouldn’t bother to be either. Matt agreed, encouraging her to vocalize as much as she wanted, his dirty words spurring the same from her when she could manage more than moans.
He kissed her again before letting her go, smacking her ass as she turned to walk toward the kitchen. She cast a glare at him over her shoulder. “I’ll pay you back for that later.”
His grin was irrepressible. “Looking forward to it.”
Hannah was put in charge of finishing dinner while Megan mixed the ingredients for the cake, popping it in the oven just as Abby and Lance arrived. Hannah was introduced as Matt’s girlfriend. Both Abby and Lance looked her up and down before exchanging a look and smiling. Abby gave her a hug. “I’m so happy to meet you. Megan’s told me all about you.”
“Uh, good things I hope.” Hannah glanced at Megan, who just gave her an impish smile and a shrug.
“Abby’s my best friend. We talk. And another girl spending lots of time in my house merits discussion.”
Abby pulled back from the hug, looking Hannah in the eyes, smiling. “Don’t worry, it’s good. At least the stuff about you is. The stuff about Matt, on the other hand ...”
“Hey! What lies are you spreading about me, Megan?”
Megan just laughed. “What makes you think they’re lies? You do enough stupid stuff all on your own. I don’t need to embellish it.”
Abby reached over and patted his arm, getting him to turn his glare on her. “Aw, don’t worry, Matty. She tells me about the sweet stuff you do, too. Like all your Valentine’s Day plans.”
Managed Hearts (Players of Marycliff University, #3) Page 15