Had he realized that she was there?
She waited, telling herself that if he came outside it was a sign that they should have a drink or dinner. That they should forget their plan to ignore the chemistry between them and simply move on with their lives.
But he didn't step outside, and she'd kept going to her condo. Then continued on with her busy week. A week when she didn't have a single free moment that she could think of him.
And yet somehow she managed.
"So call him," her friend Shelby said, after Hannah rattled off the entire story one morning when they'd run into each other at the downtown Starbucks.
"Look who's completely changed her tune," Hannah said. "Nolan's been good for you. And you're welcome, by the way."
Once a completely straight-laced CPA, Shelby Drake had started dating Nolan Wood, a raucous drive time DJ with absolutely no filter. Hannah took full credit of course, since she was the one who'd convinced Shelby to buy sex toys as a bachelorette gift for a friend, thus sparking a chain reaction of naughtiness that had culminated with Shelby in Nolan's bed.
"I'm serious," Shelby said, pushing her glasses up her nose. "You obviously like the guy. Just call."
"I meant what I said to him. I need to focus on building the practice. I don't have time for a relationship."
Shelby pushed a lock of dark hair behind one ear, then sipped her latte. "Maybe not. But sounds like you want one."
Hannah frowned. She didn't. Truly.
But that didn't mean a few more non-committed hook-ups wouldn't be fun. Friends with benefits was a valid thing, right? And she definitely considered Matthew a friend. Considering how well they got along, how could he not be?
That rationalization lasted all the way to the office. Then she got busy and reminded herself that this was why she didn't do relationships. Or, for that matter, hook-ups.
"It'll slow down," Easton said, leaning against her office door.
"What?" She'd been slouching behind her desk, but now she sat up straight. "I'm fine. Do I look like I'm complaining about the pace?"
He chuckled. "No. I'm just reassuring us both that we're in start-up mode. But it'll calm down."
"I'm not worried."
"Selma is," he said with a wry grin. "She made me promise to not work this weekend. And if I'm taking off, so are you."
She started to protest, but why? Her condo was a wreck. She could use the weekend to sleep and clean. Maybe even get a massage.
And see Matthew?
She frowned, shoving the thought aside.
"What's wrong?"
She smiled brightly. "Just debating between a massage or a body wrap. If you're making me blow off work, I'm going to do it in a big way."
"Good for you." He indicated the briefcase that he'd set at the floor by his feet. "I'm going to finish up at home. See you tomorrow. Casual Friday."
She rolled her eyes. She'd been on the floor going through file boxes most of the day, and she doubted the dry cleaners would be able to get the dust and grime off her favorite black linen slacks.
As soon as Easton was gone, she leaned back in her chair, trying to decide if she should stay or take some of her own work home with her. She'd just decided to go when her office phone
rang, and she snatched it up. "Wallace and Donovan." God, she loved saying that.
"Doesn't that sound wonderful," her mother said. "Sweetie, I'm so proud of you."
"Proud enough to let me have the money from Daddy's insurance?" And wasn't she becoming bolder by the minute? She'd mentioned the money to her mom before she and Matthew had driven back, and her mother had intimated that it was certainly possible, but she needed to talk with Ernest.
"Why don't we talk about it tomorrow?" her mother asked, and Hannah's heart began to hammer in her chest.