This wasn’t right. She wanted to tell him to go to hell, but she couldn’t move, had no choice but to listen.
“It’s going to be an airport,” Dave went on. “That’s in the contract, stipulation of sale and all that.” He waved it away like she wouldn’t understand the details. “Stephen will head up development and design. I think it’s just the kind of thing he could get creative with, don’t you? I know he’s been looking into new challenges, beyond buildings.”
She took a shaky step back, remembering Stephen’s soft bedroom eyes one morning as they’d talked about the future and those exact words had come out of his mouth. “But I just saw him.”
“That’s right,” Camila said, swatting a fly. “Did you sleep well last night? I always sleep like a baby in that big bed under the skylight.”
But he’d never brought anyone to his house before. Isn’t that what he’d said? Her hand tightened around the wooden handle. “But he was just out here. He wanted to…” Oh, God. He wanted to talk to her. Needed to talk to her. In person.
Dave adjusted his glasses. “It was signed just this morning. Ink’s not even dry. He must have wanted to tell you himself.”
This morning. The business at the door. This woman who knew she’d been there. Who said she’d also slept in that bed. She was going to be sick. Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t swallow, the air hot, and sweat slid down her spine.
She opened her hand, let the rake fall to the ground and started walking. Faster and faster, not looking back.
Chapter 44
Not true.
That’s what Hannah repeated to herself the entire way to Stephen’s office. She’d find him. She’d ask him and he’d tell her it wasn’t true. Because she couldn’t have fallen for an illusion again. She couldn’t have.
She parked, and numbly entered his building. Trace. His glass tower. His most important thing. A tribute to the woman he loved.
Was there anything he wouldn’t do to make it stronger? She scanned the ornate placard for his name and floor, walking past the receptionist as if in a dream. But she wasn’t disconnected. She was painfully aware.
She followed the long hallway, instinctively going all the way to the end.
An older lady at a desk called to her. “Ma’am?”
His office would be the biggest.
“Excuse me? Do you have an appointment?”
Hannah kept walking. “I’m looking for the person in charge.”
“Well, that’s Mr. McKinney, but—”
Hannah didn’t hear the rest. Stephen was in charge. He had the power here. He would know the truth and she’d talk to him and her chest would stop feeling like it was being crushed. Dave was lying. She knew it, had gotten a bad feeling from him the first time she met him.
“Hannah.” Stephen rose behind a giant desk, looking surprised. An entire wall of glass served as a backdrop behind him.
He’d figured a way to keep it from the city. He’d bought it for her. That’s what he’d wanted to tell her. It would be just like him. He’d smile, a little embarrassed, and she would thank him and kiss him and—
“Is it true?”
He stilled where he was coming around to meet her.
Why was he leaving so much space between them? He never wanted space between them. Why didn’t he touch her? “Dave came to see me. Tell me it’s not true.”
“Hannah.” The muscles in his face tensed, his expression pure misery.
“Is it true?”
“He told you.”
Three words, spoken softly, evenly, and her heart broke into a thousand pieces. Just shattered right there on the office floor like a piece of glass. He didn’t even look surprised.
She couldn’t speak. Her head spun. So when Zach appeared in the office doorway, it took her confused mind a second to wonder why.
“Hannah.” Her brother’s voice was firm and he held out his hand. “Come here.”
She shook her head. At her brother. At the truth written across Stephen’s face. Just standing there, eyes fixed on hers. Sad. Sorry. And guilty.
“Hannah,” Zach repeated, his voice unusually hard. Not Zach’s sweet-natured, all-is-good face. Why was he even here?
Stephen finally spoke. “This isn’t a good time, Zach.”
Zach bolted forward, exploding. “Shut the fuck up!”
Already shocked, she jerked at Zach’s reaction. Then she noticed more people in the hallway. Another man in a blue uniform stepped into the doorway, dressed like her brother except for the shield on his pocket.
“Zach? What are you doing?”
“Hannah.” His hand was still outstretched, his face etched with concern like she’d never seen it. “The fire was arson. I’m sorry.”
“What?” Her already spinning mind spun faster. “Who would do that?”
Stephen took a step toward her. “Hannah—”