Page 100 of Fireworks & Forehead Kisses

Hannah’s eyes cut to mine, and they narrowed. “There was a rumor that Mr. Wolfe put a clause in his will that the company would be passed down to whichever heir was married.”

I hoped that my expression didn’t give anything away. Not that it actually mattered. I doubted my brother was going to contest the company going to me. He’d been more than happy about me buying him out, and the last time I saw him when I checked him into rehab, he seemed to be loving his footloose and fancy-free lifestyle. Even if he did, he wouldn’t have a legal leg to stand on. I was married. That was the sole stipulation for me to inherit the business. The validity or length of the wedlock had no bearing on the outcome.

“I wassurethat you married Ashley as a business deal,” Hannah continued. “But now that I’ve seen the two of you together…Iknowthat’s not the case. This is real.”

I wanted to ask how she knew that, considering it wasn’t the case at all. Her first instinct had been correct. This was a business deal. An arrangement. Whatever had caused her to change her mind tonight was incorrect.

Despite it being in my best interest to drop the subject, I was unable to stop myself from asking, “What changed your mind?”

She tilted her head to the side as she considered her response. “It’s the way you look at her, the way you are soawareof her in the room even when you’re not with her. You haven’t gone more than a few minutes, no, a fewseconds, without checking on her. And when you look at her…” She exhaled a soft sigh. “You can just see it written all over your face.”

I thought back to the Thanksgiving I’d spent with the Comfort brothers and Cash, and the day I’d spent in the hospital waiting room with them; I thought about how they all looked at their wives. I thought back to the NSFW text Ashley sent meabout Clyde, saying that all she wanted was someone to look at her like he looked at Bonnie.

Was that how I was looking at Ashley? Surely not. Those men, and Clyde, loved their significant others. I cared about Ashley, but we weren’t in love. I wasn’t even sure I was capable of love.

“She is, bar none, hands down, no question, the best thing that has ever happened to you.Thank God,you found her.” Hannah placed her hand on her chest. “I was really worried about you.”

“Worried? Aboutme?”

Never in my life had someone been worried about me. It was always my mother, who was ill, or my father, who was an alcoholic, or Derek, who was always in trouble in school and then an addict. Never me.

“Yes.” She nodded with an earnest expression.

“Why me?”

“Becauseyouhave horrible taste in women. I mean, until Ashley, that is. I didn’t know Wren, Talia, or Lucia, but from what your grandmother says, they were just carbon copies of Serena, and Serena was… well,horrible. And you’re… well, you’reyou.”

“I’m me? What does that mean?”

“It means you’re great. You’re objectively good-looking…some would even saysexy,” she whispered as she leaned forward. “And you’re smart, witty-ish, rich, hard-working, honest, and loyal, but you’re not very…” She patted her chest and shook her head.

“Not very what?”

“You live in your head. You make decisions based on logic, not emotions. And because of that, you attract the wrong sort of person.”

“What’s the wrong sort of person?”

“Another Serena. Someone who likes thethingsyou can provide for her, the lifestyle. Someone who is satisfied with a shallow and materialistic relationship. You need someone who bringsheartinto your life. Someone who takes you out of your head and opens up yourheart.You need aheartperson like Ashley.” She reached up to touch my chest but stumbled forward.

“How much have you had to drink?”

She picked up her glass and held it in front of her face as she closed one eye and studied it. I wasn’t sure what her pirate stare was going to achieve.

“This is my fourth, nofifthdrink. And then before these, I had a glass of wine and I pre-gamed.”

“Are you okay?” I asked, already knowing the answer to the question.

“Fine. I’m fine. Everything isfiiineee,” she emphasized the last fine.

“Call me crazy, but whenever someone uses the wordfinethree times in a row, they are not fine.”

I knew that Hannah was not a huge fan of the holidays. Over the years we’d worked together, she’d shared that they weren’t happy times in her childhood and that they hadn’t been great in her adulthood either. She’d mentioned that as a single person, this time of year could feel isolating and lonely. I hated seeing her like this and wished I could do something to make it better.

“I just thought that I was going to have myLove Actuallymoment,” she explained.

“Your what?”

“MyLove Actuallymoment,” she repeated as if the second time she said it, it would somehow make sense. When she saw my blank expression, she continued, “You know when Laura Linney’s characterfinallyhooks up with her office crush at the Christmas party. Well, notatthe Christmas party. They go backto her house and then up to her loft for bow-chick-a-wow-wow. But they don’tactuallyend up hooking up because her brother, who has mental health issues and she cares for because her parents are both dead and it’s only them, calls and needs her, but that’s not the point.” She waved her hands in front of her face. “IthoughtI was going to have my moment, and thenhegoes and brings adate.”

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