Page 7 of Erik's Redemption
Tell me this is forever. Tell me you and me are forever.
The request should have been simple, right? Easy. Yet Erik hadn’t been able to answer. And that silence, the withdrawal from her…God, it hurt.
She’d wanted to rave and yell. To throw something across the room.
“Hannah.” Taylor came into her office, holding out an envelope. “I was the first in this morning. Someone had slid this under the door.”
She looked down, frowning at her name scrawled across the front of a slim envelope.
“Probably someone else wanting you to sell their mega-mansion.” Taylor nibbled her bottom lip, concern skittering across her face. “I also wanted to check in on you. You’ve been…quiet lately.”
Hannah lowered the envelope to the desk before running her fingers over her charm bracelet, first the cloud, then the angel. “I’m fine.”
God, she was a terrible liar.
Taylor gave a slow nod, clearly not believing her for a second. “Okay, but if you’re not, and you’d like to talk to someone about it, I’m a great listener.”
Taylor was a nurturer. She personified the word mother. But she didn’t need Hannah to dump her problems on her. “Thank you. But I’m okay. How’s Elliot?”
“He’s perfect. And with those clients you passed off to me, we’re doing really well. It’s a relief.”
“Good. I’m glad I could help.”
Everyone was enjoying the sudden abundance of stock. At least some good had come from the bad that had been Angelo Bonetti. Not to mention, the top realtor at a competing company had lost his job once it was discovered he’d been working with James to bad-mouth Hannah to steal her clients.
“You sure you’re okay?” Taylor asked.
Hannah nodded, probably too quickly. “I’m great. But thanks for checking in.”
She shifted her attention back to her screen, forcing her mind to focus on the work in front of her. A couple hours passed, and she was rummaging around her desk for some information she’d printed off when her fingers brushed over the envelope Taylor had given her.
She frowned. She’d completely forgotten all about it.
Turning it over, she noticed there was no return address. Strange. And there was no stamp. Proof that, as Taylor said, someone had obviously hand-delivered it. Quickly, she tore it open, and a single piece of paper slipped out.
I know what you did, Hannah.
She sucked in a sharp breath.
What the hell? Who had written this? And why?
There was nothing overtly threatening about the words, but every part of her still rebelled against them. Against the way the envelope had been left at the office. The lack of signature. The single sentence.
“Hey, Hannah.”
She jolted, the note slipping from her fingers as she looked up at Leo. “Hey.”
“I’m heading over to Black Bean for lunch. Want to join me?”
She slipped the note back into the envelope and lowered it into her drawer. “No, that’s okay. I’ve got so much to do.”
One side of his mouth lifted. “Come on. You can’t tell me you aren’t hungry. I need to make sure my coworker isn’t going to pass out on me from a low.”
Right on cue, her watch vibrated. She didn’t need to look down to know it was her Dexcom telling her she had to eat.
Leo raised a knowing brow. He had a brother with type 1, so he understood.
The corners of her lips tilted up. It was the first genuine smile all day. “Okay. Let’s go get some food.”
