CHAPTER 27
Asher
Leaning back in my office chair, resting my elbows on the arms with my fingers steepled in contemplation, I stare out the window at the traffic below. I sent out an email about thirty minutes ago telling the employees their Thanksgiving holiday was starting early. I do it every year, so they were expecting it. It’s a tradition my dad started, and I carried it on. Although we generally only give Thursday and Friday off for the holiday, we’ve always closed via “surprise” email to the company at noon on Wednesday.
Several of the executives and higher-level staff have stopped by my office. Poking their head in my open door and wishing me a happy Thanksgiving.
Fucking fat chance of that.
I suppose I could spend it at The Wicked Horse, but even I know that’s not going to happen. Haven’t been able to step foot in there since the last time Hannah and I went together as a couple.
Feeling brave, I went there Saturday night. I was supposed to be at the charity gala, but I chose not to go. Christina said she understood, but how could she really? She had no clue I hadn’t gone because Hannah wasn’t with me, nor that the whole fucked-up truth was that she wasn’t with me was because I canceled the date. If Christina had known, she’d have thought I’d gone off the deep end.
So instead of getting into a tux for the gala, I put on a pair of faded jeans and a lightweight cashmere sweater and headed to the club.
I have no clue how long I stayed in my private parking spot in the garage. Eventually, there was a knock on my passenger window. It was Jerico bending over to look inside at me. I rolled the window down and lifted my chin. “What’s up?”
Leaning his forearms on the door through the open window, he smirked. “What’s up with me? What’s up with you? You were sitting in your car when I got here almost two hours ago, and you’re still sitting here now that I’m on my way out. Aren’t you going in?”
I’d stared past him to the building that housed the Wicked Horse. Bringing my gaze back to Jerico, I lied to him. “Soon.”
A hint of worry flashed in his eyes, but he knows me fairly well. I’d never share something personal with him, so he just nodded. “Have fun.”
After I watched him leave, I put my car in reverse and backed out. I headed home and went to bed with nothing but my memories of me and Hannah at The Wicked Horse. It didn’t even get me aroused; it just made me melancholy as hell. I didn’t try to chase it away, though. I welcomed the suffering because it’s what I deserve after the way things ended with Hannah.
At least, I think they’re ended. Neither of us has come out and said it, but the mere fact we’ve not spoken to each other by voice or text since I canceled our date for the gala is a good sign it’s over.
My VP of marketing sticks her head in the door. “Have a great holiday, Asher.”
“You, too, Vicki,” I say with a smile.
When she leaves, I turn my gaze back out the window, letting my thoughts drift to Hannah again. She’s really all I think about, and I’ve struggled to get through my workdays. I thought time and distance would make things easier, but they’re getting worse.
I know Hannah thinks I’m upset because she held back information from me, and I’ll admit I was a little perturbed when I learned she’d had cancer. But the truth is that I’m the world’s biggest pussy because I pushed Hannah out of my life because she terrifies me now.
I see her as perhaps the best thing to ever happen to me in my life. If I were to fully embrace that, I predict catastrophic pain for me down the road if the cancer were to return and she died.
It’s a long shot, I know that.
I researched the fuck out of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Even called a doctor friend about it. It’s true… if caught in its earliest stage, treatment is ninety-percent effective in curing the disease after the five-year mark. The chances of it recurring are nominal compared to winning the supposed greatest love of my life.
And yes… it’s love.
Otherwise, why would I be this freaked out and afraid of that ten percent chance? I’m a man who has built his business successes on taking calculated risks. Why can’t I take that same risk with my heart?
It’s probably because I’m not sure I could survive losing Hannah. I think about us being together as a couple, sharing our lives and dreams with one another. I’d get to know Hope, and we’d grow to love one another. Perhaps Hannah and I would have children together. I know I’d have the best fucking partner I could ever dream of.
But what would happen if she died? Could I be strong and go on for our kids? Where would Hope go? Back to her father, which wouldn’t seem fair to me because I would have grown to love her as my own.
Yes, these are the insane thoughts that have been circulating through my mind for over a week and a half.
Insane but also plausible, because I absolutely could see a future with Hannah prior to me finding out about her cancer. In fact, I’d say it was almost inevitable—that’s how strongly I felt for her. I may not have told her that since I was growing to accept it myself, but it was there.
I’d opened the empty spaces inside of me to her, and she filled every fucking square inch.
I loved her.
Still love her.
Fuck.
When I hear a light knock on my door, I look up to see Kyla Wroth. She’s the head of our resource department and Hannah’s boss.
I smile and ask, “Headed out?”
“Not quite yet,” she says as she steps in and closes the door behind her. I sit up straighter in my chair, because Kyla has been reporting to me on Hannah since she started work last week.
“Sit down,” I say with a motion of my hand to one of the guest chairs.
She does, perching on the edge and folding her hands in her lap. She started out as a secretary here under my dad’s watch and worked her way up the ladder until he put her in charge of our entire resource pool. She’s smart, efficient, and most of all loyal to the company. That loyalty transferred from my dad to me when I became CEO.
“You asked me to keep a close eye on Hannah Madigan,” she says, and I nod. I have and so far, her reports every few days by email have been benign. Hannah was doing well at work, exceeding expectations.
“Is everything okay?” There’s no hiding the alarm in my voice.
Kyla shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I didn’t tell you last week because it seemed like a personal matter, and I wasn’t sure it was relevant—”
“Is she sick?” I demand as I rise out of my chair.
Eyes rounding wide with unease, Kyla leans back in her chair. “Um… no. Not that I know of.”
“Christ,” I mutter as I scrub my fingers through my hair and plop back down in my chair. I give her a sheepish look. “I’m sorry.”
Kyla purses her lips. “I really wasn’t sure why you wanted me to keep an eye on her and it’s none of my business, but now it’s clear to me that you have feelings for her.”
For a flash of a moment, I think to deny it, by why bother? Kyla has me pegged. Besides, there’s no shame in caring for someone.
“Now I’m glad I decided to share this with you,” she says with a tinge of censure in her tone. “Last week as I was coming out of work—actually a week ago today—I found Hannah crouched beside her car just sobbing her heart out.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. Last Wednesday after work. When I sent my last text to Hannah that I wasn’t taking her to the gala. “Did she tell you what was wrong?”
“No,” she replies briskly. “Dried her tears and put on a stiff upper lip.”
“Okay?” I drawl expectantly, because there’s clearly more to the story since that happened last week.
“She left a little bit ago after you sent the email about closing early,” she continues. “I was walking around, encouraging some stragglers to leave, turning off lights, making sure computers were turned off, and I saw something on her desk.”
“What?”
“It was on her printer, actually. A pamphlet to a college in South Carolina she must have printed out. It had an application with it to their business program. If I had to guess, Miss Madigan isn’t going to be with us much longer. It appears she might be applying to college soon.”
I stare at Kyla in shock, dread sinking in at what she’s saying. Hannah is going to move halfway across the country?
“I’m not sure if you’re understanding things,” Kyla says, and I focus back in on her. Her words are pointed and challenging. “But I’m going to guess that Hannah was incredibly hurt last week by someone, and her only answer to it is to leave the area. It seems to me that if someone was having second thoughts about the rashness of their actions, they might want to take advantage of the early day off and purchase a plane ticket to South Carolina.”
“South Carolina?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“Yes. Hannah’s going there for the holidays with her daughter.”
She’s going to South Carolina for Thanksgiving.
Looks like she’s thinking about school there.
Hannah has moved on. Yet, I’m still left behind in this weird limbo, fighting my own feelings and fears.
“Jackie’s already left,” Kyla says. She’s talking about my personal assistant. “Shall I make plane reservations for you?”
“Um… no,” I tell her as I grab my phone off the desk. “I’ll handle it myself. I have to call my sister first, though.”
Kyla nods with a smile and stands from her seat. “Well, have a good holiday. Best of luck to you and Hannah.”
“You too,” I say without real thought, my mind already spinning out of control over how my life is getting ready to be decided very soon. But then I shake out of it and take a moment’s pause. Looking at Kyla, I give her my heartfelt gratitude. “Thank you. For giving me a push. I needed the shake up.”
“Anytime,” she says with a grin.
Kyla leaves, shutting the door behind her. I dial my sister.
“Hey,” she answers in a rushed sort of way that says she’s busy and doesn’t have a lot of time to talk. “I’m at the grocery store right now trying to buy last-minute shit I forgot for dinner tomorrow.”
We’re all planning to have dinner at her house tomorrow, Dad and Mandy included. It would have been interesting.
“I’m not going to make it tomorrow,” I tell her, and I can almost hear her come to a dead stop in the grocery store.
“Why not?” She’s immediately alarmed because she knows I’ve been all fucked in the head recently. While she said she understood I also know she was not happy over me backing out of the gala last Saturday, which was made clear when she showed up at my apartment Sunday morning to ream my ass out.
All it took was one look at me for her to realize I was suffering a heartbreak. I ended up telling her everything about Hannah.
She told me I was a dumbass. Warned me that I better figure that shit out soon, because Hannah wouldn’t wait around.
“I’m flying to South Carolina,” I tell her.
“Hannah,” I say with a long exhale. “Going to try to fix this shit like you told me to.”
“Well,” she drawls. Since I can hear the squeak of the shopping cart wheels in the background, I can tell she’s on the move again. “I suggest you do lots of groveling and apologizing.”
“Duly noted,” I say, although I figured that much out. “And I’m sorry I won’t be there, especially about leaving you to deal with Dad alone.”
Christina laughs. “No worries. You’ll just owe me one.”
“I owe you lots more than that,” I say gently. “I love you, sis.”
“Love you too, you big buffoon. Now go get Hannah.”
“On it,” I say and then disconnect the phone.
Next on the list… call the airlines and hope I can get a flight out of here today.