34. Maddox

THIRTY-FOUR

Sweat beads across my forehead, and I close my eyes, focusing on the strain in my thighs.

Pretty eyes stare up at me.

I squeeze my eyes tighter, trying not to picture Hannah as blood pumps through my veins.

I thrust up, grunting with the motion.

I open my eyes and stare at my reflection as I step forward and rack the bar into place.

My music is blaring through the speakers of my home gym, the basement walls reverberating around me. But it's still not enough to drown out the memory of Hannah's voice.

I tried.

More than anything else, those two words have been on repeat in my brain.

I grab my towel off my shelf and swipe it across my face.

What the hell was she talking about?

What had she tried to do?

I press the towel over my closed eyes.

I'm missing something. I have to be.

The music cuts off as my phone starts to ring.

I snatch it off the shelf and look at the ID.

I almost don't answer it, not in the mood to shoot the shit. But then I remember the favor I asked for.

"Waller," I say as soon as the line connects. "You finally pull that background on Petals?"

He lets out an awkward chuckle that has my senses tingling.

"What?"

"Well." He chuckles again. "It's one of those isn't it funny sorta things."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I'm being a dick, but I'm starting to get a bad feeling about whatever he's called to tell me.

"Well, I got a little sidetracked with some other stuff this week and forgot all about that flower shop you wanted me to look into. But then I happened across the name today, Petals, and it reminded me."

"And how did you come across the name?"

He pauses a beat. "On an application."

My spine stiffens. "What sort of application?"

"And it's funny"— he ignores my question— "because I'd been looking at the name on the résumé, thinking to myself, Why does she sound familiar?" That bad feeling solidifies. "And then I read through her work history, and saw she worked for Petals, and thought Huh, what a coincidence…"

"Are you telling me Hannah has applied to work for you?" I grit out through clenched teeth.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you. Now, are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

"Nothing is going on." I start to pace.

"Nothing is going on." Waller repeats my sentence using his dumb voice. "Sure. Except my best friend is keeping fucking secrets from me."

I heave out a breath. "I'm not keeping secrets. I asked you to look into Petals, didn't I?"

Waller scoffs. "Yeah, but you failed to mention it had anything to do with Hannah Fucking Utley. Shit, man, it's the girl who fucked up your head our senior year."

"She didn't—" I start to argue.

"She also happens to be applying at my company." He talks over me. "And I can clearly see on her résumé that she currently works for your fucking company. So, sure, tell me again how nothing is going on."

"Fuck off," I sigh. "I don't need to add your bullshit friend guilt to my plate right now." I spin and head back the way I came. "And you're not hiring her."

"No shit, man. I'm not going to hire someone my bestie hates."

I stop pacing. "I don't hate her."

"No?" He sounds more curious than surprised.

"No. And don't use the word bestie. We're not twelve-year-old girls."

Waller makes a humming sound. "So you don't hate her, but you're still trying to blackball her?"

"What?" I shake my head. "No, that's not— I'm not trying to prevent her from getting a job. I… Fuck." I drop down to sit on the weight bench. "I didn't know she applied for other jobs." The knowledge of it finally sinks in, making me feel sick. "I don't want her to leave."

"So…" Waller drags it out. "Was it a surprise when you found out she worked for you? Or…"

I roll my eyes. "I didn't buy that company to get close to Hannah. I had no idea she even worked there."

Though, had I known, I might've.

Waller whistles. "Bet that was a slap to the nuts."

I grimace. "Basically."

"And…"

"And what?"

"And what?" He mocks me. "You just said you had no idea she worked for the company you bought. You really think I'm not gonna want to know more?"

"That was the hope," I say dryly.

"Well, hope in one hand, shit in the other." He uses our old coach's favorite phrase.

"As you can imagine, it didn't go great." Then I think about it and almost laugh. "She pretended not to know me."

"Chick ghosts you, turns up a decade and a half later, ghosts you again— to your face— and you think it's funny?"

I shake my head. "Talking to you is worse than talking to my mother."

"Keep it up, and I'll add her to this phone call. Don't test me."

"God, you're a pushy bitch." I stand back up and start pacing again. "I didn't know she was there until she came in for one of those new company interviews we did."

"Fuck." I can picture the wince in Waller's voice. "That must've been a moment."

"Yeah, well…" I feel like a dick admitting this part, but I know Waller will understand. "The interviews were boring as hell, and I had some emails from my lawyers about some contracts that I needed to go through. So I was doing emails on my phone the first, like, half of her interview." I blow out a breath, wondering how I hadn't recognized her voice. "I didn't even look up until someone said her last name, and by then, she had plenty of time to get over any of her own shock."

"So when you finally paid attention, she was already locked down."

"Basically."

"But you go into the office, right? So you've seen her?"

"Yeah."

"And have you confronted her about her little disappearing act?"

"Kinda. No. Fuck, I don't know." I turn and walk back across the gym. "She's giving me all sorts of mixed signals. Giving me the evil eye one second, crying over a ham and cheese the next. But then last night after… I said something, and she snapped at me about not calling her. But that doesn't make sense because we never exchanged numbers."

I tried.

The heavy weight of doubt latches itself on to my shoulders.

"I think I'm missing something," I admit.

It's quiet on the line for a long moment.

"You still there?" I ask into the phone.

"I'm here. Just busy wondering how you've already managed to sleep with this woman without, it seems, actually talking to her."

I stare forward at the wall. "I hate you."

Waller laughs. "No you don't. But for real, maybe quit thinking with your dick for an entire minute and go ask her— straight out— what the hell happened."

"I do hate you," I mutter.

"Nah, you just hate that I'm right. Now, do you want to know what I found out about Petals, or would you rather wait and ask her about it?"

I groan. "You word it that way so I'm the jackass if I ask you to tell me." I can picture his shrug. "But I've been on my back foot this whole time, and I'm tired of not knowing what's going on. So tell me."

"The business belonged to Ruth Utley. She started it about forty years ago with a Theodore Utley— found a marriage certificate, so they were Mr. and Mrs. But a few years later, it shifted to be just in her name. I looked because I was curious if it was a divorce thing, but instead of divorce papers, I found a death certificate."

"Hannah's dad?" Emotion slams into my throat.

"Yeah. If my math is right, she was just a baby."

"Shit."

"But the Mrs. did a good job with the business. It was pretty successful. Not enough to get rich off, but enough to raise a kid on. There's really not much to tell after that, so I jumped ahead to when it closed. It lines up with when Hannah went to the solar industry."

"I don't get it."

"What don't you get? Her take-home pay now is better than what she was making off that store."

"But that's what I mean. It wasn't her store. Maybe her family owned it, but if she had to basically run the place, why leave for college in the first place?" I shake my head. "Something had to have happened. I need to go talk to her."

"Let me put the phone down so I can do a slow clap for you."

"This is why I don't tell you things." I stride out of the gym and go up the stairs two at a time until I get to the main level.

Waller chuckles, then sighs. "Look, I won't call her back about this application. But if she randomly applied for the open accountant position at my company, I can promise you she applied for more."

"I know." I'm sure she did. She probably applied for a dozen other jobs.

"Welp, I'm not exactly sure what you want, but… good luck."

I hang up the phone, knowing exactly what I want.

I want to know what happened.

And I want Hannah.

Now I just need to figure out if she still wants me too.