Hannah rushed out her back door before I finished talking. I hurried after her.
Once we were a few feet away, she jerked to a stop and spun around, eyes widening. “Snapdragons!”
I grinned. On our first attempt at a date a couple of months ago, I’d brought her a single rose. She’d pulled off a petal, then revealed her other flower obsession: making snapdragons
sing
. Nothing in the world would’ve stopped me from trying to make that happen on our first
real
date.
She knelt down in front of them, blinking. Her voice fell to a whisper. “You remembered how much I liked snapdragons.”
“I did.”
Unable to see what she was doing with her fingers, I squatted beside her. She gripped the back joint of the flower and pinched her finger and thumb together. The two halves opened like a jaw. When she released the pressure, they closed.
She proceeded to pinch the flower open and shut to the rhythm of her exaggerated operatic voice. “La, la, la, la, la, laaa.”
I burst out laughing. She looked up at me, pure joy in her eyes.
My heart warmed at how easily she was her raw, true self with me. “Damn, I love you.”
I blinked hard. What the fuck was with my spewing out words without thinking? I blamed the snapdragons.
Yet I did love her. And no part of me wanted to take back the admission.
She gave me a wide smile until her lips twisted into a smirk. Probably because if my expression matched what I felt, I looked shocked as hell at my revelation.
But her gaze held mine. “I love you too.” A whispered confession.
I grasped her hand, pulled her up, and held her tight. “You don’t have to say it just because I did.”
“You seemed surprised you’d said it.” She placed a soft kiss along the side of my neck.
“I was.” It’s what happened when love blindsided a guy enough for him to run at the mouth without considering the consequences.
She pulled back to look at me, tilting her head with a tender smile. “I knew last night. Maybe I’d felt it for a while, but last night, I knew.”
“We’ve come a long way in a couple of months after burning bad memories of our past, in this very backyard, to give us a chance at a future together. And now here we are.”
Shit. Memories of my past. Of Madison.
The only other woman who I’d ever loved was the person who’d shattered my heart. And that same ghost from my past showed up to haunt me the morning I told Hannah I loved her?
The two were unrelated. Had to be.
I focused back on the woman in my arms.
Her smile was breathtaking, but her brows suddenly drew together. “You okay? You look like you’re deep in thought.”
“Yeah. Sorry. Exorcising a ghost.”
She took a deep breath. “Selfish Bitch?”
I gave her a curt nod. “I guess I’m just rattled today. Her call threw me. And it’s not every day I tell someone I love them.”
She stared at me for a beat, her expression turning hard. “You told her you loved her. But what you feel for me is different, right?”
I gave her a fierce stare. “
So
different. Beyond compare. I…I’ve never felt this before.”
The corners of her lips twitched, and her eyes narrowed for a split second. Then she poked a finger into my chest. “That’s right. You
looove
me.”
I smiled down at her. “Yes, Maestro. I
looove
you.” And I did. That she saw me spiraling again and pulled me out with her quirky humor made my heart ache.
Hannah
was
different. Madison might’ve gotten the best part of me back then, but Hannah made me feel like the best version of myself all the time.
She tugged me back up to the house. “C’mon. I need to go make the cupcakes, and you’re going to be late to your meeting.” We climbed her back steps, and she turned around as she opened her back door. “What are you doing tonight? Will you come back later?”
I dropped a serious look at her. “Nothing could keep me away.”
She gave me a devastating smile, then tilted her head to the side. “I had the most wonderful time last night.”
I topped off my coffee as I looked out toward the tent. “Camping à la Cade has a certain appeal, doesn’t it?”
“Not sure I’d want to camp any other way.”
“You ever been camping before?”
She shook her head. “No. You?”
“Yeah. Couple times in college. Group of friends. Keg. Loud music.”
She nodded absently and gazed out the window toward the tent with a sad expression.
“That’s it. We’re going camping.”
“Really?” Her face lit up.
I pulled her toward the front door. “Yeah, really. Talk to those two employees of yours and clear your schedule as soon as you can.”
When we reached her car, she turned and kissed along my jaw until her lips found mine. I deepened the kiss, then groaned when my body decided in firm terms that it wanted to stay.
***
A few minutes later, and after a dozen more kisses that would have convinced me to stay on any other day, I finally eased my motorcycle out of her driveway and headed straight to my bar.
I walked through the back door and into Ben’s office. He glanced up from his desk, then put down his cell phone as he stood. “About time you got here. Was just calling you.”
“Sorry, man. Got waylaid.” Or laid. Repeatedly.
“Don’t sweat it. You’re here. Everyone is except your dad. He said to start without him.”
My dad was a mostly silent partner with Loading Zone. We invited him to the quarterly meetings, which he attended, silent but interested.
Ben paused as a look of understanding washed over his face. “That’s right. Last night was your date with Hannah. How’d it go?”
With a deep breath, I gave a nod and a happy-as-fuck look that said it all. Because words never could.
He grinned and clapped me on the shoulder. “Awesome, man. Hannah is gold.”
“Yeah, she is.” Made a guy feel invincible with the love of a woman like Hannah. I stowed my keys, phone, and electronic tablet in his bottom drawer. “Cool if I steal your office after the meeting for an hour? I’m behind on emails for Invitation Only events.”
He grabbed a stack of envelopes and a single sheet of paper from his desk before we left his office. “Sure. I’m gone as soon as we’re done.”
We headed out to the main floor where everyone had gathered for our fourth quarterly meeting and the first annual report of our fledgling company. Loading Zone had twenty-three employees, from the bartenders to the waitresses, the security team to the barbacks. Even our DJ, Darren, was here. Every face popped up, full of anticipation, as Ben and I walked in from the back. I exhaled slowly, glad to be able to focus on business.
I leaned back against the bar. “As you all know, we decided to do something different with Loading Zone. We undercut the competition and acquired the best staff by overcompensating you. How do you feel about that?”
“I think I love you, man.” Mark, our floor manager and head of security had a dead-serious tone. No one laughed. They all nodded, expressions fierce.
Ben stepped forward right as my dad walked in the front door. “When Cade first suggested sharing the profits with every employee, I have to admit, I thought it was a great idea to incentivize but wasn’t sure how it would work in reality. I’m happy to say, we’ve blown our one-year revenue projections through the roof.”
The room exploded into whistles and shouts.
“Most of you have been with us since the beginning. All of you have worked hard to make Loading Zone an amazing place. I hope you understand how much you all mean to us in being a part of our team. A family, really.”
I nodded toward the envelopes Ben held. “We wanted to show our appreciation for all you’ve done. Each of you has an extra bonus in there, beyond your profit-sharing percentage.”
Hushed whispers and gasps spread across the floor.
“That’s not all. You know how important giving back to the community is to us. Your support at our occasional softball games has been incredible in helping us raise money for charity, but what we haven’t shared until now is that a percentage of every net dollar earned at Loading Zone is also donated.”
I glanced at Ben. He nodded in support before I turned back to the group. “What do you say to our hosting a charity event for Loading Zone’s one-year anniversary at the end of the month?”
Jillian, one of our lead waitresses, stood from the chair she’d been sitting in. “You mean donate our time for the night?”
I tilted my head toward her. “Only if you want to.” Scanning their faces, I saw determination and pride in their expressions. “Each of you can decide. Loading Zone will be donating all the liquor and every penny of profits for the one night. We’d love for you to be a part of it, but only if you can swing it. We totally understand if you can’t.”
One by one they all stood beside Jillian, forming a tightknit group.
Mark spoke for them. “We’ve all made more money in the profits we share here than at any other job we’ve had. A lot of us have been trying to figure out a way to thank you. This is it.”
Without hesitation, they all nodded.
“We’re in.” Darren crossed his arms.
Jillian took a step forward and gave a hard nod. “I’ll even donate all my tips that night too. I’ll work my ass off.”
I smiled at her. “You always do. All of you do. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us, for being dedicated to Loading Zone as something more than just a job you punch in at.”
From across the room, my dad swept his gaze over the animated group before it landed on me. He stared hard at me with immense pride. I gave him a slight nod. Were it not for him, I wouldn’t have had such a passion for business at a young age, when even the wildest ideas seemed possible.
Ben waved his fistful of envelopes at our group. “Time for the fun part.”
He handed me the stack. I called out the names, and as each person came forward, they shook my hand in appreciation. Then Ben read off the sheet of paper he’d brought, rattling off random information about costs and profit. Not that he needed to.
This wasn’t a shareholders’ meeting. The employees didn’t own a slice of the company. We shared the profits with them as inducement to performance. And as Jillian had so eloquently phrased it, they worked their asses off in return. Because when each customer was happy, they showed it with their wallets, which fattened ours, and enabled us to give liberally to those in need.
After everyone left, including my dad, who slipped out the front door before we handed out the last check, I made my way back to Ben’s office.
In the calm silence, I fired off a group email to my three sisters and Hannah about the bar’s anniversary event, formally enlisting the help of Invitation Only. Since Kiki was the artistic one who’d actually been the drive behind Loading Zone’s industrial-grunge vibe, I asked her to create and send out the invitations. I outlined all the details we’d just discussed at the bar’s employee meeting and suggested to Hannah to use them as inspiration for the cake.
After I sent it, I smiled, wondering what Hannah was doing. Probably icing a batch of cupcakes. I imagined her with colored flecks of frosting on her arms and that ruffled apron over her tiny T-shirt and short shorts. I took a deep breath, clearing my head. If I didn’t concentrate on something
other
than Hannah, I’d never get anything else done. I’d race over to her shop, kidnap her away from work, and we’d dive back into her bed. And then neither would she.
I scanned through the several dozen emails in my inbox that had come in since Friday and began replying to them from the top down. A handful were late congratulations to me on my recent graduation from the Wharton MBA program. A couple were from Kristen related to early event bookings in the fall. And the alcohol distributor we used for both the bar and for scheduled Invitation Only events had sent us order confirmations.
Then I reached an email that had been sent four hours ago from another key vendor regarding a high school graduation party scheduled for next week.
“What the fuck?”
Confused as hell, I read it through again. It talked about the forfeiting of our substantial deposit. I grabbed my phone. I sure as shit wasn’t about to email a reply on such an urgent matter.
He picked up on the third ring. “John. I just read your email and have no idea what you’re talking about. We didn’t cancel.”
A sigh on the other end. “I thought it was strange. You’ve never canceled before.”
“Well, I know
I
didn’t call you. And I was the one that placed the order. What made you think we’d canceled?”
“One of your sisters called first thing this morning.”
I shook my head. No way in hell. Unless one of them had an aneurism, we didn’t operate on our own. Group decisions were made. Tasks were delegated and carried out. End of story.
“Which sister?”
“I’m not sure. Kristen I think.”