Chapter Eight

With more control than he would have thought possible, John closed and locked his apartment door when he really wanted to slam it with every ounce of strength he possessed. He headed for the kitchen for a drink of water. Thankfully, the techniques he’d been taught as a kid actually worked. Once he’d grabbed Eddie’s arm and tucked it up behind him while holding the man’s thumb bent at an angle, walking him out the front door of the boardinghouse had been easy. The man blustered a lot about his rights to visit Hannah if he wanted, but the higher his arm was raised, the less he protested.

He had wanted to hit the guy for upsetting Hannah, but violence wasn’t part of his nature. Until now. He knew whatever measures had been needed to protect her today would have been used—and would be used again in the future—if necessary. She was becoming important.

“Who am I kidding? She’s been important ever since I met her.”

The heart thump he’d felt when she admitted telling the other man they were a couple had been an unusual experience, but the instant transformation from shock to chest-swelling pride surprised him more than anything else.

He hadn’t counted on falling for Vince’s daughter.

The thought of another man sniffing around Hannah sent irritation shooting through his system like a car around a race track. Eddie Stone had riled him.

The longer he pondered, the more sure he was that Vince should be notified. Of course, he couldn’t chance Hannah overhearing his conversation, so going to the corner market was mandatory. Without wasting another moment, he strode out the door.

The afternoon was warm with a slight breeze, meaning lots of folks were out walking and kids were playing in the small yards.

“Good afternoon,” the clerk called out when John entered.

“Hi. Can I use the phone?”

“Sure. The booth’s in the back near the canned goods display.”

“Thanks.”

At the back of the market, he stepped inside the small enclosure and closed the red painted door behind him. Again, he initiated the process that finally connected him with the compound.

“Hello?”

He couldn’t believe the don had answered his own phone. That almost never happened. “Hi, it’s John.”

“Hey, boy. Good to hear from you. How’s it going with your new job?”

“Going good. My team is designing a new wing for one of his planes. I’m learning and contributing.”

“Good. Good. How’s the other reason for you being out there?”

“I’m glad you brought that up since that’s why I’m calling. I’d like you to check on someone for me.” He hesitated, scowling as he pictured the way he’d tossed the guy out onto the sidewalk. He never expected to see him again, but a prudent man always investigated his enemy. “Eddie Stone. He works where she does.”

“A problem?”

“No, just an annoyance, but it upsets her.”

“Will do. Give me a little time.”

“And remember, I’m asking that you check out the situation, not remove the situation. Understand?” he added quickly.

“Yeah, yeah. I got ears, boy.”

The static grew stronger for a moment, then subsided. “So, how’s everything else?”

John wasn’t sure what to say. Vince was fishing, but for what?

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just wondering what you think of your landlady?”

“She’s lovely.” The words popped out without forethought, but now he calculated each one. “Smart and kind—and really cares about the elderly tenants.”

“What did Sadie tell her about her father?”

John hesitated. This wouldn’t make the old man happy, but he hesitated to add to his lies—or withheld truths. This truth would just have to hurt. “She gave her daughter a father a little girl could look up to.”

“What do you mean?”

“A policeman, killed in the line of duty.”

Silence.

“Still there?”

“Yeah. Guess I can’t blame her. It’s just ironic.” A heavy sigh whispered through the line.

“Well, I’ve got to go,” John finally said.

“Goodbye, boy. I’ll call if there’s anything urgent you should know.”

He hung up but stood staring at the phone as if waiting for it to ring. Every way he turned, people weren’t happy. He felt guilty for being the messenger of bad news, but Vince had made his choices. The original decisions might have been made with the best intentions, but if the man didn’t like the outcome, at least the results were of his own making.

John left the store, taking a long loop around several blocks on the way back to the boardinghouse. It allowed time to ponder the mess he’d gotten himself into. When he agreed to watch out for Hannah, he never expected to start caring about her. Now, he was lying to her left and right. He momentarily closed his eyes, shaking his head. Well, not outright, but lying by withholding the truth. How could he have been so stupid? And he couldn’t even talk the situation over with his mother. The first words out of her mouth would be, “I told you so.”

John kept walking but glanced toward the heavens. Would there be help coming from above for someone who willfully lied?

He ducked under a low-hanging limb that stretched across part of the sidewalk. Straightening, he rubbed his chest, trying to ease the burning. The turmoil was giving him indigestion, yet the one-sided debate continued. What if he told her the truth, admitting his part in the deception? That thought slowed his steps. What would happen? He turned right, heading for the park bench partially hidden in a cluster of trees.

She might hate me for ruining the heroic image she has of her father.

That was always a possibility, but more importantly, it would shatter the image of her recently deceased mother. How could he do that to her?

He sat on the seat within the cool shade. The choices were limited. Ruin the memories of her mother and the larger-than-life father, or leave her in the dark about the past, sad but content. But what if she found out about Vince sometime in the future and subsequently realized how John had been lying to her ever since he’d moved in?

The groan slipped out into the warm afternoon. He was doomed whichever way he chose to handle the situation.

“I’m clearly behind the eight ball on this one,” he muttered, scratching his cheek.

Either way—continue the lie or confess everything he knew—he’d lose in the end.

John closed his eyes, brows drawn together. That was something he’d have to face at another time. Right now, he had just over an hour until the car would arrive to take them to the party.

What other excitement did the evening hold?

****

Ten minutes before six, John stood at Hannah’s door and knocked. After half-an-hour of self-lecture on setting aside things he couldn’t do anything about and concentrating on having a good time, he was actually looking forward to the evening.

The door opened, and his jaw went slack. His heart thudded, and he blinked several times before opening his mouth, but no words came out.

“Are you okay?” She leaned forward a few inches and reached out a hand toward him.

He cleared his throat, allowing a soft chuckle to slip out into the quietness of the empty hall. “I’m stunned.” He took her hand. “You are beautiful. I’ll be the envy of every man there.”

Her face flushed as she lowered her chin and smiled.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she said, holding up a small clutch purse. “Am I dressed right for tonight’s affair?”

“You’re perfect.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and pulled the door closed behind them. “I thought we’d wait downstairs for the car. It should be along in a minute or two.”

At the top of the stairs, he hesitated, allowing her a moment to put a hand on the railing and prepare to descend the steps in the high-heeled shoes. The dress glistened when she moved, drawing his eyes to the draped front and slinky, blue material that fit like a second skin to just below the thighs before it flared out at the bottom to almost brush the floor. With her hair swept up into a swirl and held in place with a long, black clip, the earrings emphasized her long neck, drawing his gaze and focusing his desire on kissing the smooth skin just below her jaw.

His heart thundered when she glanced toward him, blushed, and then glanced away. She was the most beautiful woman he knew.

“John, you’re embarrassing me,” she whispered.

“Sorry, but you take my breath away.”

He put out his arm, not moving until she had slipped her arm through his, then started slowly down, allowing her to set the pace. They waited near the front door where they could see the street.

When the car drove up, he escorted her down the front steps, helped her into the waiting vehicle, and then joined her, allowing the driver to close the car door and cocoon them in the luxury of deep, leather seats.

They were soon on the way, but John remained on his side, maintaining space between them, as if a line had been drawn down the middle of the seat. Why did he suddenly feel hesitant about holding her hand? Sure, she was Vince’s daughter, but he liked her—a lot.

She stared out the window, while he silently watched her hands fidget with the small purse, opening the clasp and snapping it closed repeatedly.

“Are you nervous?”

She swiveled her head to face him. “Oh, no,” she answered quickly, then took a deep breath that whispered out in a sigh. “Well, maybe a little. I’m around stars all the time, but I’ve never partied with them, and certainly never anyone of Mr. Hughes’ status.”

He pushed away concerns about her parentage and reached to take one of her hands, giving it a little squeeze. “Try to remember he’s just a man.”

“A very rich man—and a very famous man after his recent flight across the country.”

He chuckled, bringing her hand up to kiss each finger. “Thank you for coming with me tonight. The evening should prove to be very interesting.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence until the car turned onto the driveway leading up to the Beverly Hills Hotel.

“Oh, John, look at this place. It’s lovely. I can’t wait to see the inside. Very impressive. Look at the red tiled roof and the porte cochere.”

“The what?”

She turned to glance at him. “The porte cochere? It’s an awning that extends out from the building so cars can pull up and let off passengers without them getting wet. They’re very popular with the movie stars at the studio where I work. They all want one added to their homes.”

He shrugged. “There aren’t porte—whatevers—in Mobile,” he said, adding a chuckle.

She smiled, but her attention had already focused back on the surroundings. When the car stopped, a young man stepped forward to open the door.

Unlike Hannah, John’s attention hadn’t been on the multi-storied building, but all the late-model cars lining the driveway—every one of them able to make him drool and wish to someday own one.

“Good evening, sir. May I escort you and the lady to your party?” The young man bowed slightly as he shut the car door behind them.

“The Hughes’ party?”

“Ah, yes sir. Right this way,” he instructed, leading them through an arched entryway and holding open the main door.

They crossed the marble floor, her heels clicking a cadence that drew his attention. Her profile intrigued him. A creamy complexion set against chestnut brown hair and large, dark blue eyes, demure and graceful—a lady from her head to her polished toenails. Tonight, she looked breathtaking enough to give any one of Paramount’s leading ladies reason to be jealous.

Even as pride swelled his chest at her being his date, he watched her gaze travel from right to left and then up toward the magnificent elevated ceiling. Sure, the building was beautiful with its Mediterranean architecture and furnishings, but it didn’t hold a candle to the stunning beauty digging her fingers into his arm as they made their entrance.

Howard Hughes was tall, several inches above most of the men, making him easily recognizable when they were shown into the ballroom. Familiar faces from the silver screen, as well as numerous others, mingled in a close orbit, but Mae West and Claudette Colbert currently held his focus.

Beside him, Hannah cleared her throat, drawing his attention. She leaned close and lowered her voice. “John, do you know anyone?”

“Only a couple, but come on, and I’ll introduce you to Mr. Hughes.”

She remained at his side when he moved forward, but her silence spoke volumes. He took her hand from the crook of his arm and linked their fingers, giving her a reassuring squeeze that drew her gaze. After a quick wink, he focused on his objective and moved forward.

Like Mr. Hughes, all the men wore suits, but some had chosen to dress more casual and not wear ties. John felt right at home with the wide lapels and crisp pleated slacks of his navy graduation suit—another gift from Vince that his mother didn’t need to learn about.

“Ah, John, I’m glad you could come.” His boss shook his extended hand and then turned toward Hannah. “And who is your date for this evening?”

“Mr. Hughes, this is Hannah Montgomery.”

He turned his full attention on her, reaching out to take her hand. “It’s my pleasure to meet you, Miss Montgomery.”

John watched, silent but seething, while Howard Hughes slowly smiled, then skimmed her body with a dark gaze that ignited an inner urge to protect what was his. With one hand clenched at his side, he instinctively stepped forward and partially inserted himself between the two, requiring the other man to release Hannah’s hand.

“If you’ll excuse us,” he said, glancing between Mr. Hughes and Hannah before pinning the other man with a pointed gaze. “We’re on our way to get a drink before I introduce her around to your other guests.”

“Sure. And welcome.” One brow rose as he grinned. “By the way, how’s Vince doing?”

He clamped his jaws together to keep from showing his utter shock. Was this his boss’ subtle way of putting him in his place for being possessive about Hannah? Maybe. Vince had mentioned the man owed him a favor—had he called in that favor with a request that his stepson be hired, and subsequently included in the prestigious project…because of Vince? Had Vince lied to him?

“Fine,” he managed to get out. “At least the last time I saw him.”

His boss nodded. “Give him my best next time you talk with him.”

The man turned back to the tight group surrounding him and the skimpily dressed woman hanging on his arm.

John now wondered if he should have even come to the party. He had nothing in common with movie stars and directors. He’d rather be at home having dinner alone with Hannah.

Her sigh drew his attention. He turned and gave her a tight smile. “I’m sorry.” He spoke low for their ears only while angling them away from the crowd huddled around the great man and focusing on those standing near the buffet table. “I know he has a reputation with the ladies, but I’m a little surprised he’d give you the once-over with me standing right there.”

She smiled and lowered her chin with a soft laugh. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not important. I’m surprised he even glanced my way.”

“He likes beautiful women, and that definitely includes you,” he couldn’t help but murmur near her ear. When she flushed, he relaxed.

“So, he knows Vince?”

The question came as a surprise, but as they say, the world was getting smaller. “Guess so. Come on, let’s get something to drink, and I’ll introduce you to a couple of my coworkers. Actually, they’re the only other ones I know here,” he added with a soft chuckle.

With his hand barely touching her lower back, he ushered her through the crowd toward a small group of men and women standing near the sidelines. The room glistened with lights reflecting a rainbow of colors off beautiful gowns, but none of the starlets or society women paying homage to Mr. Hughes could hold a candle to his Hannah. With a grace and regal bearing of someone raised in society instead of the working class community she hailed from, she met each person with a demure but friendly smile, instantly putting them at ease in her company.

His chest swelled. Hannah was stunning…and she was with him.

****

Hannah had been standing for almost two hours, sipping a watered-down cola and wishing the evening would end. The shoes that had fit her mother so well pinched her feet, leaving them numb and throbbing.

When John leaned over to whisper in her ear, she tried to smile without grimacing.

“Are you about ready to go home?”

Her shoulders sagged, her weary body ready to weep with gratitude. A nod and a weak grin from her were all it took for him to take action. She’d really liked two of the ladies she’d met, but the rest were superficial, talking about themselves and their success, or the success of their husbands, until she wanted to scream.

“Come on. Let’s thank our host.”

Mr. Hughes smiled as they approached. “Leaving?” When John nodded, he continued, “Glad you could come. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Thank you for a lovely evening, sir.” Her polite comment drew Mr. Hughes’ attention, making her wish she had kept her mouth shut.

He gazed straight into her eyes, nodded his head a fraction, and then smiled just enough to barely move his lips. His mannerisms reminded her of directors telling the actors to smirk as if they know something that the other person doesn’t. She shivered. He wasn’t at all how she thought he’d be. How could John work with this man? He gave her chills down her back.

“Thanks for inviting us.” John’s words drew the man’s gaze off her and back to himself.

Hannah released a held breath when he took her arm and led the way from the room, through the expansive lobby, and out into the warm, summer evening.

While they waited for the car to pull up, he took several deep breaths himself. “I much prefer the smell of trees and flowers out here to the stale cigarette smoke we had to endure inside.”

“I agree. The odor was beginning to give me a headache,” she admitted, then stopped and lowered her chin, looking up at him from beneath dark lashes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” She didn’t want him to think she hadn’t enjoyed their night together.

“Why not? I agree. That room was too warm and stuffy. I’m glad to be outside—and alone with you.”

He leaned over and kissed her cheek just as the car pulled up and the driver got out to come around and open the car door for them. The heat warming her neck and cheeks had nothing to do with the warm summer evening and everything to do with John’s public display of affection. On one hand, she was a little embarrassed, yet inside, her stomach was in knots while pride overruled discomfort at the thought of him not caring who saw them together.

Her first party with the upper crust of society and other than the beautiful dresses, the magnificent hotel, and excited butterflies from John’s kiss, she couldn’t think of much else to put in her diary when she got home. Sure, she’d met the infamous Howard Hughes, but she’d been disappointed—he’d invited some of his staff, but never left the circle of Hollywood and business elites.

In the car, she leaned her head back against the seat, closed her eyes, and allowed herself to drift along with the rhythm of the moving car.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty.”

The whispered words were followed by a light brush of lips on her forehead. She woke slowly, smiling, blinking several times while she remained a captive of John’s intense gaze. Seconds ticked by while her fuzzy mind struggled to focus. Though reluctant to leave the dream of being held in his arms, she found wakeful reality flooded her mind, leaving her heated body throbbing long after he came around to her side of the car, took her hand, and assisted her from the vehicle.

Usually, young men left her on the porch when a date ended, but tonight was different. It felt a bit awkward when he unlocked the front door and ushered her inside the boarding house then followed her upstairs. She couldn’t help but imagine them coming home together after an evening out and entering their apartment as a couple.

The thought sent a shiver down her arms.

“Are you cold?”

“No.” Still, it felt good when his warm hand held hers until they arrived at her door.

“Thank you for inviting me to join you tonight. I enjoyed it.” She pulled out her key, then hesitated.

Will he kiss me?

“You were the most beautiful woman there.”

Gentle fingers slid along her jaw, tilting her head back. In slow increments, she raised her gaze from his shirt collar to his Adam’s apple, then on up to meet his intense stare. Without a word and with the barest touch, he held her captive as he leaned forward to run the rough pad of a thumb along her jaw just before he momentarily hovered, then brushed his lips across hers.

No words were necessary. She leaned into his warmth, sliding a hand up his chest underneath the edge of his suit jacket, blazing a trail that ended when her fingertips touched his neck just above his shirt collar.

His arms slid around to embrace and cuddle her closer. Pressed against him, her body demanded more—but sanity forced its way past desire. She pulled back, instantly regretting the decision, but knowing it was the right thing to do. Her mother’s words filled her head. Men will respect you, but only if you first respect yourself.

“I’m sorry, Hannah. I, um, well…”

She sagged in relief, unable to stop a smile from spreading at the thought of this take-charge, in-control guy being flustered, too. “We’d better call it a night. You’re leaving early in the morning for Alabama, right?”

A heavy sigh whispered into the cool air of the hallway. “Yes,” he admitted, stepping back and allowing his arms to relax to his sides. “I’ll be back late Wednesday night, so are we on for supper Thursday?”

His boyish smile drew her like flowers to the sun. “Absolutely. See you then.”

He raised a hand, as if to touch one last time, but lowered it. “Good night.”

Hannah turned, unlocked her door, and stepped inside, closing it without watching him walk to his apartment. She leaned back against the wooden door and shut her eyes while reliving his kiss. A smile lurked as she considered how the past few minutes would fill her diary page that night, but it was thoughts of the future—a future that now appeared to include John—that she knew would keep her awake late into the night.

Since John moved in, each day brought something new into her life. She almost giggled as she pushed away from the door and headed toward her bedroom. What was in store for her tomorrow?