“Give them a call, then, and set something up. You’ll have to tie up with Lisa about timings.”
Meredith squealed into the phone, causing Richard to pull the earpiece away from his face. A small smile tugged at his lips.
“So summer 2011 is the plan, right?” He wondered if he could cope with these phone calls for the next two years.
“Of course, it’s going to take that long to plan everything.”
IT HAD TAKEN a few phone calls, but he’d managed to glean some more information about Buzz Media, and their New York office. The company had been prospering despite the recession, mostly due to their ability to create an interesting website with a limited budget. The expansion in the US was generally seen
as a good move for them.
This was the sort of crap Richard never got involved in. The transactional value was way too low for him to show more than a cursory interest, and all indications showed the company was sound. Which was why he was almost shocked to find himself sitting in the back of the car, on the way to Tower 6, to see why Hanna Vincent was working in Manhattan.
Jack pulled the car up outside the office block in midtown, and Richard asked him to wait, not planning for this meeting to take very long. He wanted a few answers—felt he deserved them—before he could go back to his work, his fiancée, and his plans for the future.
His best laid plans.
The unit let to Buzz Media was on the third floor and had an uninspiring view. It was one of their cheaper offices, and Richard wasn’t surprised by the low-budget fittings and cheerful colors that greeted him as he stepped out of the elevator.
Buzz’s newly hired receptionist took her job seriously, and took a long look at Richard’s security pass before she allowed him through the door. “Miss Vincent is through the second door on the left. I’ll give her a call and let her know you’re here.” She let go of his pass and he placed it back in his pocket.
“No need, I’m an old friend. I want to surprise her, Amanda.” His voice was low and confident. He always found using the receptionist’s name got him what he wanted.
Richard walked around the corner and pushed open the door, smiling as he heard music pumping through an iPod dock. Hanna was standing with her back toward him, leaning over a catalogue, her hair cascading over her shoulders.
His fingers twitched with the tactile memory of those silky locks between them. Trying to ignore his own reaction, he cleared his throat, causing Hanna’s head to shoot up, and her body to whip around.
For a moment, she stood and stared, and he waited for her to respond. He wasn’t sure whether he was expecting a warm welcome or an angry tirade, but he was taken aback when a huge grin slowly spread across her lips.
“You shocked me.” Hanna’s eyes glistened as she placed a hand on her chest, as if to calm her racing heart.
“I didn’t mean to.” His voice was lower than he’d expected, and he cleared his throat again. “I can come back later—”
“Goodness, no.” She walked around her desk and over to him, stopping when she was a few feet away. “It’s lovely to see you.”
“You, too.” He marveled at the way she still looked the same, her soft creamy skin highlighted by her flushed cheekbones, her dark brown eyes looking so alive. She was the girl he had first met all those years ago. He tore his eyes away from her face and tried to remind himself he was angry with her. It was difficult when she was looking so damned enchanted to see him.
“So what brings you here? Did Claire tell you I was in New York?”
“No, you happen to be renting office space owned by Maxwell Enterprises. I decided to come and check you out.” He suppressed a grin at the meaning of his words. “You, as in Buzz Media, not you as in Hanna Vincent.”
Hanna laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear, and sat down on the front corner of her desk. “Are we going to pass muster?”
“I don’t know yet. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?” His tone was nonchalant, but he was beyond interested to hear more. He pulled out a chair and sat down, leaning forward, keen to hear her response.
“I was conned,” she admitted, shrugging her shoulders. “My boss cajoled me until I agreed to come out and set up the New York office. Nobody else was available, they’re all having babies or completely loved up, and I was the only one with dual nationality. Before I’d even had time to think, I was walking through the baggage reclaim area, wondering how the hell I got here.”
Richard smothered a grin at the thought of Hanna standing in the middle of JFK, realizing somehow she had moved to New York despite her best efforts to never do so. The irony wasn’t lost on him.
“Where are you living?”
Hanna started to swing her leg, drawing his eyes to her short skirt, leading to the long, smooth skin of her thighs. “I’m squatting at Steven and Claire’s apartment. I think I might be bringing down the tone of the neighborhood.”
“Too many drugs and parties?” Richard joked, trying to look anywhere but her legs.
“Not enough manicures and haircuts.” They both glanced at Hanna’s torn nails before she moved her hands behind her, trying to hide them from his scrutiny. “And apparently sneakers aren’t the appropriate footwear for a lady over the age of twenty.”
“Have you been talking to Olivia?” he asked, remembering the way Hanna’s stepmother used to criticize everything about her. She shook her head with a grin.