by Carrie Elks
“You’d do that?” She put her empty coffee cup down at the table and scrutinized him. Everything about him screamed money; from his buttoned down blue Oxford shirt, open at the neck, revealing a hint of chest hair, to his navy pants. She wondered if he knew how out of place he would look at the Mercury Lounge.
She shrugged inwardly. It was a risk she was willing to take if it meant she could go to the gig, and keep her father happy.
“Sure. I don’t think I’ve ever been there before.” He spoke as if his offer wasn’t a big deal.
“So what should I do for you in return?” Hanna’s cheeks flamed as soon as the words escaped her lips. She hadn’t meant to sound quite so provocative.
Richard nearly spat his coffee out of his mouth.
She looked at him with narrowing eyes. “I was offering you, as a friend, the opportunity to have something in return. I don’t see what’s funny about that.”
He took the opportunity to muse. “In that case, let me take you out to dinner before you leave. You show me your world and I’ll show you mine.”
“Okay, Henry Higgins, dinner it is. Do your worst.”
RICHARD WATCHED HANNA charming her way into the Mercury Lounge, despite having no valid ID and being underage. He couldn’t help but be impressed by the way she played the security staff with her engaging banter, sweet smiles, and tales of being an English journalist.
“Are you coming?” She turned around to Richard, her cheeks flushed with cold, her eyes sparkling under the lights of the entrance.
“Right behind you.”
Following Hanna into the main music area, all of his senses were attacked by the atmosphere—the cacophony of the crowd, the smoky smell of the air, the feeling of the floor sticking to the soles of his feet. He could even taste the excitement in the room as the throng of people milled about waiting for the band to come on stage. There had to be at least three hundred people all squashed in together.
“What’s the band called again?” Richard asked. Hanna grabbed his hand to pull him farther forward.
“The Strokes. They’re a five piece garage band. Lots of buzz going on around them.”
Three members of the band walked onto the stage to a loud roar of applause from the audience. Richard could tell his ears were going to be ringing by the end of the evening. His t-shirt was already starting to feel moist. The wet heat of the room was even making Hanna’s hair frizz a little. It looked good on her.
Glancing up at the stage, his eyebrows rose in surprise and he leaned in to whisper in Hanna’s ear.
“You know, I recognize at least two of the band members.”
Hanna’s head whipped around to look at him, and he gave her a shit-eating smirk.
“Really?” She looked at him skeptically.
“Seriously, I recognize them from Dwight. Definitely prep-school boys.”
“Just goes to show that even prep-boys can be reformed. So when do I get to see you in a band?”
Richard chuckled, taking a sip from his beer bottle. Hanna looked on enviously. Without an ID, she was stuck with soda.
“If you heard my singing voice, you wouldn’t have to ask.”
As they talked, the band was still wandering about the stage, doing last minute checks.
“So what are you planning to do after graduation?” Hanna asked.
“A couple of us are planning to move out to California. A friend and I have some plans for an internet start-up.”
Another member of the band walked onto the stage to rapturous applause. Richard waited for the clapping and cheering to die down before he continued. Instead, any noise he made was obliterated by the opening chords of the first song. The crowd started moving, forcing them toward the stage. There was no resisting the surge pushing them forward, and Richard glanced at Hanna in alarm, worried she would be trampled in the rush.
Looking back at him, she grinned widely. “Isn’t this fantastic?”
Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips plump and glossy. She wasn’t wearing much make-up—a contrast to the Hanna he had met nearly a year ago—but she still looked stunning. He noticed a few guys looking at her as she pushed her way past them. It was hard to keep the smug smile off his face when he saw their disappointment, realizing she was with him.
He had to admit the band was good. As they launched into their next track, it was like they were casting a spell over the audience, bewitching them as they sang along and danced madly to the music.
The people behind them were still moving forward, forcing Richard and Hanna apart from each other as the wave crashed toward the edge of the room. He grabbed hold of her hand, pulling her back toward him, circling his arms around her so he could keep her safe.
He couldn’t decide where to put his hands. Her waist seemed too familiar, too sexual. If he held on to her hips and felt her ass against him, he was pretty sure he would lose his mind. He settled on the relative safety of her upper arms, trying to keep the fabric of her t-shirt between his hands and her skin. But she was moving too much, grinding her body to the beat of the music. He took a half step backwards, removing his crotch from the danger zone. He didn’t want to be accused of liking the band that much.
Hanna turned her head and tried to shout something to him. The noise of the band, and the calls of the crowd, drowned her words out.
“What?” Two small lines formed between his eyebrows as he tried to concentrate on her mouth.
“I said this is my favorite song.”
“What’s it called?” They were still mouthing words at each other. To try and actually vocalize would have been futile.
“Last Night.” She whipped her head around as the guitarists played the instrumental bridge, the discordant sound of the bassist’s chords jarring against the melodic notes of the lead guitar. The lead singer opened his mouth, his voice a deep echo as his lips moved closely against the microphone, his eyes closed as he sang the words.
The crowd was going absolutely wild, the fast tempo of the track leading them to jump up and down as one. Those unfortunate enough not to join in were starting to panic, feeling themselves being dragged under. Richard moved his arms until they were tightly clutching Hanna’s waist. He didn’t care about his reaction to her body, he just wanted to keep her safe.
Leaning back into him, her hands clutched his arms as they moved together, submitting themselves to the will of the crowd.
It was electrifying.
After the show, Hanna tried to grab a few minutes with the band. It was clear they were on the cusp of something big, and the other journalists there also wanted to get their pound of flesh.
“Are you ready to go?” Richard glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight. When he picked Hanna up earlier, he’d promised her father he wouldn’t keep her out too late.
“Yes, I think so.” She was still giddy, on a high from the stimulating atmosphere of the gig. He could feel her trembling next to him.
“I guess I don’t have to ask if you liked them.”
“I absolutely loved them, I can’t wait to write about it. I just hope my article isn’t too sycophantic,” she said. They walked side by side out of the hot, sweaty bar, and into the cold night.
Coming to an abrupt halt, they both noticed the change as soon as their feet hit the sidewalk.
While they were watching the band, New York had transformed itself into a Winter Wonderland.
The streets and cars were blanketed with a soft, fluffy layer of bright white snow. The only blemish on the pale landscape was the black footprints of the revelers who had left the concert.
“It’s snowing!” Hanna’s face was bright, her smile wide as she looked up to the sky and saw the over-sized flakes slowly floating their way down to the ground. “Oh my God, Richard, look!”
She reminded him of Ruby with her child-like excitement. She twirled around, her head still raised to the sky. He watched as she opened her mouth, poking her pink tongue out, trying to capture a snowflake on its surface.
“Aren’t you excited? We can make snowmen and snow angels. You might even get a snow day. Doesn’t everything sound so much better if you put ‘snow’ in front of it?”
“Like snow-bound, or snow-blind?”
Hanna rolled her eyes. “It’s like being in the most beautiful city in the world with Ebenezer Scrooge. Where’s your enthusiasm?” She pulled away from him, running her hands through the snow that had fallen on the wall adjacent to the club.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you. Perhaps the ghost of Christmas Past will help me mend my ways.”
“Or maybe a snowball will help?” Her aim was magnificent. The cold ball hit him right in the chin, breaking on impact, the icy snow dust falling down onto his neck.
He ran toward her, scooping some snow up with his hand from the wall as he approached.
“No!” she squealed, trying to run away from him as he approached her menacingly, but only managing to slip and slide on the frozen slabs. “Please don’t!”
“I thought you said everything was better with snow in front of it?” He was pulling at the neck of her t-shirt now, trying to shove his handful of snow down it as she wriggled, protested, and begged.
“I didn’t mean it, please don’t!” Her voice was a mixture of panic and giggles. She grabbed hold of his wrist, moving it away from her chest and trying to make his hand release the snow.
Suddenly, they were standing close. Too close. He realized that most of his body was in contact with hers. She was looking up at him, her face flushed with cold, her lips bright pink and slightly open. Her eyes captured his. He wondered what she would do if he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against hers.
Then he shook his head, realizing how stupid it was. She was younger than him, lived thousands of miles away. Thinking of her as anything other than a friend was more than foolish.
“Let’s get you home.” He flashed her a quick smile, stepping away to put some distance between them.
She looked confused for a moment, then straightened herself, shaking the snow from her hair. “Okay.”
AFTER DROPPING HANNA at her father’s apartment, Richard decided to sleep at the townhouse, rather than make the journey uptown to his dorm. The lights were still blazing in the Maxwell household; both Leon and Caroline were night owls, and rarely retired to bed before the early hours of the morning. His mother had the luxury of being able to lie in bed until late, while Leon just needed very little sleep.
“Richard, darling. What a lovely surprise.” His mother placed her wine glass on a side table. Rising up from her chair, she walked over to him. She offered him her cheek, and he inclined his head to kiss her. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I was in the area. I thought I’d sleep here tonight.”
As she pulled back from their embrace, Caroline did a double take. “What on earth are you wearing, darling? Where have you been?”
“I was watching a band play in a bar, over on the lower east side.”
“Why? Who were you with?”
“Hanna Vincent.”
“Do I know her parents?” Always the same question.
“She’s Philip Vincent’s daughter.”
Caroline stared up at him, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “But his daughters are only nine or ten, darling.”
Richard laughed out loud at the thought of taking Hanna’s sisters to the Mercury Lounge. “His other daughter, from his first marriage.” Richard walked over to the drink cabinet and poured himself a tumbler of whisky. He had a feeling that this was going to be a long night.
“Now there was a woman who didn’t know how to conduct herself. My God, poor Philip, she was such an embarrassment to him.” The tone of Caroline’s voice was derisory as she made her feelings toward Hanna’s mother abundantly clear.
“You knew her well?” Richard asked skeptically. His mother seemed to “know” everybody.
“We sat on some of the same committees. She was forever turning up late, or not at all. And the clothes she wore, oh my goodness, they were so inappropriate.”
Richard took another sip of whisky, not really sure what to say to his mother. She was on a roll, and he let himself fall back onto the sofa, deciding that if he had to listen to her tirade, he may as well do it in comfort.
“So, what is her daughter like? Does she take after Philip or Diana?” she asked.
There was nothing left but to swallow the lot. Richard tipped his head back and let the amber fluid slide down his throat, burning as it went down. “I’m not sure she’s like either of them. She’s an original.” He was wracking his brain to think of a suitable way to divert his mother. He wasn’t sure he liked where this conversation was headed. “Where’s Leon tonight?”
“He and Daniel went out for dinner. Leon wanted to do the father-son thing. Daniel has been in trouble at school.”
“Trouble?” Richard seized upon his mother’s tangent.
“He’s been cutting lessons. His GPA is reaching rock bottom. It’s going to take a lot of funding to get him into Columbia.”
Funding meant bribery. Leon Maxwell usually got what he wanted, even if he had to grease the wheels a little first. Richard was relieved his own acceptance to Columbia had required no such help from his stepfather.
Not that he was surprised to hear about Daniel’s troubles; the kid was a walking disaster. He was a boy with a sizeable drug habit, and an even bigger bank balance. With such unlimited access to funds, the only intervention Richard could see working would be to cut him off without a dime.
“We’ve been invited to Henry Jones’s wedding in October. Are you going to be around?”
Richard sighed. They’d had this conversation so many times, but every time he tried to explain to Caroline she cut him off, telling him she didn’t want to hear it.
“I’m planning to have moved out to San Francisco by then.”
The tightness of her lips as she glanced over at him made him want to roll his eyes.
“Leon really wants you to join him at Maxwell Enterprises. You’ve a guaranteed job there, and maybe one day you could take the helm.” Her voice was clipped, her tone disapproving.
“Maxwell Enterprises is all Daniel’s. You know I have no interest in working there.” Richard fought the urge to shake some sense into her. “John and I have set everything up. We’re moving out west in September.”
Five
May 24th 2001
It had been a hideous week. Instead of sitting out in the beautiful spring weather, Hanna had been buried in the library beneath books trying to cram for her end-of-term exams. The previous day, she’d had a phone call from Ruby—who had been asked to her school disco by a boy, only to discover that he had done it for a bet. Hanna had been unable to soothe her young friend, eventually resorting to calling Richard to ask him for advice.
To top it all off, Josh-bloody-Chambers had cut her article to shreds, and put it at the back of the magazine. She wanted to rip his throat out and feed it to the ducks swimming in the university pond.
She ignored the curious stares from her fellow students, pushing past them, as she made her way to the magazine office. She was a girl on a mission. A Josh-bloody-Chambers gutting mission.
Ignoring the greetings of her friends, she stalked straight across the floor to the closed door of the editor’s office. Curling her hand around the stainless steel handle, she twisted it sharply, pulling the door toward her in a jerking movement. It banged against the wall, making everyone turn to look at her.
Josh was sitting on the corner of his desk, talking to the pictures editor, while going through her portfolio of photographs.
“Hanna, I wasn’t expecting you. Can this wait?” It wasn’t really a question, more a command. She chose to ignore it.
“It can’t wait. Would you excuse us, Ciara?” It was all she could do to keep her tone civil, even with th
e pictures editor, who had never done anything to inflame Hanna’s ire. “I need to talk to you now, Josh.” Her copy of the magazine was rolled up in her hands. She shook it at him.
“Can you give us a minute please, Ciara?”
“Sure, no problem.” Ciara gathered all her photographs up at top speed. She looked eager to get out of the room, away from the toxic atmosphere.
Josh remained silent as Ciara left, closing the door behind her. He was staring at Hanna through narrowed eyes.
“Perhaps you’d like to tell me why the hell I should listen to anything you have to say after that performance?”
Anger curled in her belly. “I don’t expect anything from you. You don’t even have the guts to tell me you’ve edited my articles to shreds. I thought you had more class than that.” She threw the magazine on his desk, narrowly missing his thigh.
“Your article was crap. There were typos, grammatical errors, and—worst of all—it bored me.”
It was like a punch to the stomach. Her reaction was to fight back.
“It was a good article. You just don’t know how to edit.”
“Don’t push me.” He leaned toward Hanna, his height dominating hers. She fought off the temptation to cower away.
“Then don’t cut my words.” Her heart was beating fast, fuelled by adrenaline and indignation. “And I’ll push you if I want to.” As if to demonstrate it, she poked her index finger into the middle of his chest.
Josh grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him. “You’re sailing close to the line. Stop acting like a child.”
“Stop treating me like one.”
His lips came crashing down on hers, his hand pulling at the hair on the back of her head, his whole body shaking violently. He was standing right in front of her, pulling her closer until her legs were wrapped around his waist. She could feel he was hard already. She wondered whether he had been like that for a while—if he had been turned on by her extreme anger. Then he opened his mouth and slid his tongue against hers. Hanna curled her hand around the back of his head, trying to pull him closer. She wanted to lose herself in him.