Chapter Twelve
Hannah walked through the front door of her home. She’d been practicing what to say to Grant since he’d left earlier. All day she’d thought of him. Of what the hell was going on. She didn’t have details and hated that his awful mother’s voice spun through her head.
Why was he in this sudden time crunch? He’d bounded into the bar looking crazed and lost and sad. Was something happening in his company? Was he losing everything, like his mother had said? He wanted Hannah to jump blindly, and she had no idea what to think.
Her heart was in pieces, because he had assumed she’d just follow him. Yet he wouldn’t entertain the idea of moving here. She’d worked her butt off for years, finally was closing in on owning the bar, and had an important event tomorrow that would allow her to do so.
And he dismissed it like it was some hobby.
But she loved him . . .
She needed to talk to him. To figure things out once and for all without feeling like she’d been ambushed at work. There was hope still . . . right?
She walked through the door, but the house was empty. It felt colder, too. Like his entire presence was gone.
The only thing that lingered was his memory. From the couch, to the kitchen table, she saw him among her things. In her home. Yet he was gone.
She found a note on the kitchen counter.
Hannah,
I had to fly back to New York. I wish it had been with you. But maybe you’re right . . . our lives are too different. Thank you for being my wife while it lasted. You should have everything you want in life. I’ll be in touch with details about dissolving our union.
Love, Grant
The note slipped from Hannah’s fingers, and an instant pain erupted in her chest. Like someone had lit fire to her ribs, and they were charring and burning like old driftwood. She couldn’t breathe. Her knees wobbled, her calves turning to mush instead of muscle.
“‘Love, Grant’?” she repeated out loud. “Love?”
She didn’t feel loved. She felt betrayed. Shortchanged. She’d really thought they still had two days. Sure, she had Cal’s event to bartend at tomorrow, but they still had two days. But he was gone.
He’d left her.
The Laythem men are takers. They take your youth, your heart, your money, and try to leave you with nothing . . .
All Hannah cared about was her heart. Because for the first time, she truly felt what it was like to be cast off. She’d come to want Grant. Need him. Trust him.
Should have known better.
She looked around, and her skin itched with the need to leave. She couldn’t be in her own home because he was so real to her there. She needed to get away. So she went to the only place she could to outrun the loneliness. She went back to Goonies.
“Weren’t you just here?” Rudy teased, keeping court with only three customers. Thankfully it was a slow day.
“Yeah, I just needed to get out of my house,” she said honestly and walked up to the bar.
“You still good to go to buy this place?” Rudy said.
Hannah nodded, and he slid her a beer. “I get my big check from this event in the mail today. Then we’re good to go,” Hannah said.
“Excellent. I get out of this place, and you get in it. Dreams do come true.”
Hannah clinked her longneck with his and took a sip. She needed to focus on something other than Grant and the gaping hole growing deeper in her ribs.
“Hey, Hannah,” Cal said, coming to sit beside her at the bar.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” she asked.
“Ah, just taking a break from working. Long hours this week. But I’m excited for tomorrow night.”
Hannah frowned. “You’re going to be at the event?”
“Yeah, it’s kind of my deal. Well, Grant put it on. Investors are coming to the subdivision to see my buildings, and they’re talking about kicking in as backers to get my business expanding.”
Hannah had been hit with too much information at once.
“Wait, Grant put this on? This event?” Hannah searched her mind—the woman she’d been working with was named Sarah. What the hell did Grant want with investing here?
“Yeah, he’s thinking of investing and brought a few guys form New York out. Though he said he had an emergency, so he won’t make it. But he already cut me a check and went all in. I have my first project funded by him already. The other investors are still coming, too, so that’s even more opportunity.”
“Whoa.” Hannah faced Cal fully, trying to piece all of this together. So Grant got hold of Cal to let him know he wasn’t coming to an event he’d planned? And he’d invested money into Cal’s business.
Which meant . . .
“Grant is hosting the event, so he hired all the people to put it on,” she muttered. And he had more money than she’d thought. Not that it mattered, but it was starting to make sense why his mother was fighting for it.
She has a way of spinning lies to make people feel like shit . . .
“Yeah, that would make sense,” Cal said.
“And he’s an investor?” Hannah asked.
Cal frowned. “He was specific on keeping his involvement on the down low.”
“That bastard told you not to tell me what he did?” That was the secret. The reason she felt out of the loop.
Cal shrugged. “I did some research, and I can understand why. The guy is worth millions. Like, a ton of millions.”
Cal pulled up his phone and showed Hannah an article on Grant Laythem and Laythem Inc. He was a huge deal in New York and had a ton of money and . . .
“He lied to me,” she breathed. But not in the way she’d thought. She’d thought he was in trouble. Trying to nail her down and use her. When, really, he was the one with a ton of money and working behind the scenes.
Yes, she’d known Grant had some kind of money. But not like this. She’d had no idea he was stupidly wealthy.
“Hey, Hannah,” Rudy called from behind the bar and hung up the phone. “That was the bank. The loan has been paid and a bid put in on this bar.”
“What?” Hannah all but screamed.
“I don’t know what that means . . . did someone just buy this place out from under you?” Rudy asked her, as if she had a clue herself.
Hannah’s eyes went wide, and she looked at Cal. “What’s the first project Grant hired you for?”
Cal glanced down. “Remodeling this bar.”
Hannah’s entire chest caved in on itself. Grant had taken everything. Her love, her dreams, her bar . . . and he’d left.
She couldn’t focus or fathom what was happening—all she could do was try not to cry as she felt her heart shatter into a million pieces and cut her up from the inside out.