Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 95311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
"You know what I mean. You go through women like water..."
"Like you should talk," Elliott cut him off, sounding surly and argumentative. Deflect, deflect.
" We're not talking about me," James said, leaning forward. "I just don't want to see Hannah get hurt."
Elliott was silent a moment, his eyes downcast and thoughtful. "Trust me I don't want to hurt her."
James' head cocked to the side, curious. "Well, I guess what they have been saying about climate change is true because apparently hell has frozen over."
"What are you talking about?" Elliott asked, feeling tense.
"You have feelings for Hannah," James said, a lazy smile spreading across his face. At Elliott's silence, he whistled low. "You know you don't deserve her."
"Yeah," Elliott said, stacking papers more roughly than was necessary. "I know."
Elliott felt a jolt. Had he actually just admitted to having feelings for her? He hadn't allowed himself to think about it. But if he was being honest with himself, he knew that there was more than a fling involved. He had done countless of uncharacteristic things since she stepped into his life. God, he had tracked her down to her hometown.
"I barely know her," he said, defensive.
James rolled his eyes, nearly knocking over his computer monitor as he put his legs up on the desk. "How long have you been..." James chuckled, "let's go with 'doing the deed'?"
Elliott felt himself ready to scold his brother, to deny anything was going on. But a larger part of him wanted to talk about it. "A few weeks, but not often. It's complicated."
"What isn't complicated with you?" James asked. "Hannah isn't the kind of girl to fall into bed with anyone. So she must have feelings for you also."
Did she? Elliott hadn't given that much thought, too distracted with his own foreign feelings to consider hers.
"Oh, for God's sake, Elliott," James scoffed. "Don't be an idiot. You want to be with her. She wants to be with you..."
"It's not that easy," Elliott interrupted.
James put his feet back on the floor and leaned onto the desk. "Sometimes it is. If you treat her like all the rest of the women you've screwed around with, you're going to lose her."
Elliott ran a hand down his face, his stubble rough on his palm. "There's always the issue of Dan..."
"Oh, please," James shook his head, "you know what Dan wants. Just throw her some money and she'll sign the papers and you'll be done with her. Don't ruin things with Hannah over Dan."
He was right. Elliott was just trying to find any excuse to not have to admit that he was entertaining the idea of having a relationship with Hannah. He hadn't seriously dated anyone in so long that the idea of it almost seemed juvenile. What would they do? Go out on dates? Sit across from each other in restaurants? They struggled with conversation. But perhaps that was only because the situation felt awkward. Would things be better if he was upfront with her about his intentions?
Just as the thought came into his mind, Hannah walked into the room, her eyebrows immediately drawing together. "Wow, there's a serious vibe in here," she commented, then smiled at James. "I, of course, am not talking about you."
"Oh, of course not. No one would ever accuse me of being serious."
"They wouldn't dare," Hannah said with a conspiratory wink.
"But anywho... congratulations on the sex you two," James said, standing up and laughing at the shocked looks on their faces.
"Mr. Michaels," Sally said after a swift two knocks at the door.
"Sally, you gorgeous thing," James declared, kissing her dramatically on the cheek and sending Hannah and Elliott a grimace behind her back.
Sally composed herself, straightening her straw-like hair down. "Mr. Michaels, your appointment is here."
"Right, send him in," Elliott said, waving toward Hannah.
He'd just dismissed her. Hannah almost felt like laughing. But she walked back to her office, powering up her computer and typing furiously into a search engine. Elliott would be busy for a few hours.
She needed to find a private investigator.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
His name was straight out of a detective novel, Hannah thought as she parked the car in a part of town that made her nervous that she would have no tires left when she returned. She had a box under one arm and an address scribbled on a piece of paper and she scanned the barred storefronts for the correct number.
She came to one with the picture glass window blacked out. And on the glass door was two words. Xander Rhodes.
She pulled on the door and walked inside. She found an old brown leather couch, the material slit in several places and marked up in others. Worn. Old. The desk looked like something someone had thrown away, written all over with one too-short leg. There were newspapers and an older desktop computer on top. The walls must have been white at one time but had faded to a dingy yellow-beige color. On the wall behind the desk was a collage of newspapers and various candid photos taken at a distance stuck into the wall with brightly colored thumbtacks.