She waited.
Still no answer.
Her mother--her own mother--was ghosting her.
Easton found her standing frozen on the sidewalk. "Hey, you okay? He won. He was coming to look for you and got surrounded."
She licked her lips. "Told you."
"What's wrong?"
"I feel horrible. I--I already told my parents that we can't see them tonight. Can you tell Matthew for me? And congratulations. Just tell him I have to go home. I--I feel too sick to stay."
He studied her, his expression giving nothing away. Then he nodded and said simply, "I'll tell him."
As Easton went back inside, Hannah started walking home, hoping that she could make it there before the tears began to flow.
Chapter Thirteen
Matthew didn't have time to bask in his Mr. October title since he was too busy searching for Hannah in the crowd. But with the congratulatory handshakes and requests from women to sign various parts of their bodies with Sharpies, he was having a hell of a time finding her.
Twenty minutes later, he'd still had no luck, but he did find Easton. Or, rather, Easton found him.
"Welcome to the club, buddy," Easton said, making Matthew laugh.
"If it keeps this place open, I'm happy to parade around without my shirt." He glanced around. "By the way, have you seen Hannah?"
"That's what I came to tell you. She wasn't feeling well. Asked me to tell you she was heading home."
What the hell?
That wasn't like Hannah at all, a fact that made Matthew's worry rocket into the stratosphere. She'd be here for him tonight if she could. Which meant that she must feel worse than death.
"Did she go to an ER?"
"Just home," Easton said.
"Thanks. I'm going to go check on her." He clapped Easton on the shoulder as he passed, then kept his head down as he threaded his way to the front door, trying not to be rude, but at the same time working his way out of the bar as fast as he could.
It took another five minutes, but finally he was outside. He started to turn left, then remembered a nearby cafe that surely had chicken soup. Since Hannah probably needed something easy on her stomach, he turned right--and almost plowed straight into Ernest Pierpont.
"Ernest! Sorry. I didn't see you there."
"Obviously." The older man thrust out his hand, and Matthew took it automatically, only belatedly realizing that the handshake wasn't congratulatory.
It was a farewell.
"Sorry it didn't work out," Ernest said, pulling his hand free. "You may not understand that sometimes matches are about more than just attraction. There are other considerations."
"Other considerations?" Matthew repeated, as warning klaxons blared in his head.
"I don't want you thinking that I don't like you, son," Ernest said, ignoring the question. "For some other woman, I think you'd be quite the catch."
Matthew's head was spinning, and nothing seemed to quite make sense. "You're saying that you're not going to give her the money for the lease?"
"It's like I told Hannah. It's just not the right decision at this point. The girl needs to stand on her own two feet."
"You goddamn prick," Matthew said. "You steal her money and you pretend like it's all about her?"