I’d have to get him a Tesla for Christmas. He was a good man.
Chloe smiled at me. “You’re thinking of her, aren’t you?” she asked. “Hannah.”
I swallowed hard. “Who?” I played dumb.
“Hannah with two N’s,” she told me.
The two N’s thing had made me feel pretty stupid at the time, but I hadn’t wanted to buy the girl a restaurant and spell her name wrong on the front sign. Turns out, there’s only one way to spell Hannah, and it always has two N’s, but now I won’t live that one down.
“The one in Willow Harbor you bought the restaurant for? Was she pretty?” Jason asked.
I said nothing, but chose that moment to shove a huge bite of manicotti into my mouth.
Chloe rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone. “Very. She’s got that small-town innocent thing going on. Here, I stalked her social media.”
She handed her phone to Jason, and I perked up. Chloe had Hannah’s socials? For some reason, Hannah didn’t strike me as the social media type.
Jason took one look at whatever was on Chloe’s phone and looked up at me. “Marry her,” he told me, and I took the phone from him with a chuckle.
When I glanced down at the square photo tiles, I swallowed hard. It was an assortment of pictures of Hannah. Some with her mom, others in her town at the lake, or pretty colored backgrounds with Bible quotes. It appeared she only posted about once every few months, so with just a few scrolls, I’d already gone back a few years.
Twenty-one-year-old Hannah holding a glass of red wine with her mom and a few friends.Happy Birthdayhung on a wall behind her. What twenty-one-year-old drank wine on their birthday and invited their mom to the party? Hannah had. And it made the lifeless organ inside my chest start beating again. There was an ache there that hadn’t been before. It had been a long time since I felt anything…
“Earth to Jack.” Chloe waved her hand in front of my face, and I snapped out of it, handing her back her phone, which she’d been reaching for.
“Yeah, she’s pretty, but I don’t have time for a girlfriend,” I told Jason, getting up and placing my empty plate in the trash can before heading back into my office.
Hannah Phillips was the kind of girl who married the high school football star. They lived in a small country house with a white picket fence and had two children and a Labrador. She wouldn’t go for the tech billionaire with a dark past and a felony conviction.
I needed to get my mind off of her and back on work. That’s when I thrived, when I was busy.
I sat down at my desk, intending to do some coding, but my phone buzzed.
My heart nearly jumped out of my chest when I saw that the number was from Willow Harbor.
It was a text.
Hey Jack, it’s Hannah with two N’s. I hope it’s okay that I’m texting…
I quickly added her contact into my phone asHannah with two N’sbecause it was a thing now. I texted her back.
Jack: It’s fine. Is everything okay?
Was her mom okay? Had something happened with the restaurant? My heart hammered in my chest and my palms grew sweaty.
Hannah with two N’s: It’s fine. Better than fine. The new chemo treatment your Seattle doctor has my mom on isn’t making her so sick! She’s able to eat!
I collapsed back into my chair, my hands slightly shaking. I didn’t know why I was so invested in this woman’s happiness, but I was, and that meant I cared about her mom, too.
Jack: That’s wonderful news! I’m so glad.
I set my phone down, thinking that would be the end of the chat, but then it buzzed again.
Hannah with two N’s: Okay, so I have a slightly kindergarten-ish question to ask you.
Jack: Is kindergarten-ish a word?
Hannah with two N’s: It is now, and I know a billionaire who can probably pay to get it put into the dictionary.
