Love, Utley (Love Letters #1)

Waller laughs. “No you don’t. But for real, maybe quit thinking with your dick for an entire minute and go ask her— straight out— what the hell happened.”

“I do hate you,” I mutter.

“Nah, you just hate that I’m right. Now, do you want to know what I found out about Petals, or would you rather wait and ask her about it?”

I groan. “You word it that way so I’m the jackass if I ask you to tell me.” I can picture his shrug. “But I’ve been on my back foot this whole time, and I’m tired of not knowing what’s going on. So tell me.”

“The business belonged to Ruth Utley. She started it about forty years ago with a Theodore Utley— found a marriage certificate, so they were Mr. and Mrs. But a few years later, it shifted to be just in her name. I looked because I was curious if it was a divorce thing, but instead of divorce papers, I found a death certificate.”

“Hannah’s dad?” Emotion slams into my throat.

“Yeah. If my math is right, she was just a baby.”

“Shit.”

“But the Mrs. did a good job with the business. It was pretty successful. Not enough to get rich off, but enough to raise a kid on. There’s really not much to tell after that, so I jumped ahead to when it closed. It lines up with when Hannah went to the solar industry.”

“I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get? Her take-home pay now is better than what she was making off that store.”

“But that’s what I mean. It wasn’t her store. Maybe her family owned it, but if she had to basically run the place, why leave for college in the first place?” I shake my head. “Something had to have happened. I need to go talk to her.”

“Let me put the phone down so I can do a slow clap for you.”

“This is why I don’t tell you things.” I stride out of the gym and go up the stairs two at a time until I get to the main level.

Waller chuckles, then sighs. “Look, I won’t call her back about this application. But if she randomly applied for the open accountant position at my company, I can promise you she applied for more.”

“I know.” I’m sure she did. She probably applied for a dozen other jobs.

“Welp, I’m not exactly sure what you want, but… good luck.”

I hang up the phone, knowing exactly what I want.

I want to know what happened.

And I want Hannah.

Now I just need to figure out if she still wants me too.

THIRTY-FIVE

HANNAH

“Stick them in the fridge,” I tell Chelsea as I hurry out of the kitchen toward the front door.

It’s Mom’s birthday today, and we just finished making cinnamon rolls to bake after dinner, and our Chinese food delivery is early.

They knock a second time on the front door.

“Coming!” I call out, wiping my hands on the apron I’m wearing over my shorts and a T-shirt.

I snag the cash tip off the bench where I left it and pull the door open. “Here—”

My body freezes at the sight of Maddox.

He’s standing right there.