Chapter 237

Chapter 237
Hannah

Emma took a long sip of her drink, then leaned back in the booth. "That sounds perfect for you. Way better than making lattes at Moonbeam."
"God, yes." I laughed, remembering the early morning rush shifts. "Though I'm keeping that job part-time too. Can't hurt to have extra income while I build my portfolio."
"Smart." Emma grabbed a handful of nuts from the bowl on our table. "What about classes?"
I swirled my drink, watching the lime bob in the copper mug. "Expensive as hell, but worth it. My professor thinks I should enter the Emerging Designers Showcase next spring. It's competitive, but if I can get my collection finished in time..." I trailed off, excitement mixing with anxiety in my chest.
Emma raised her mug. "To Hannah Mitchell, future marketing genius and fashion mogul."
I clinked my mug against hers. "One step at a time. Right now, I'll settle for not embarrassing myself on my first day, Monday."
"You'll be fine. Margot already loves you." Emma drained half her drink in one go. "Besides, you've got natural talent."
Emma flagged down our server. "Two more Copper Mules, please."
I should probably slow down, but the vodka was smoothing my nerves, making the prospect of starting a new job feel less terrifying.
The copper mugs arrived quickly, condensation already forming on their surfaces.
Emma launched into a story about a customer at the bar who'd tried to pay with Monopoly money, and I found myself laughing harder than the story warranted. The alcohol was definitely hitting me now, making everything feel lighter, easier.
"Bathroom break," I announced, sliding out of the booth. My legs felt slightly unsteady as I navigated through the growing crowd toward the back of the bar.
The restroom was blessedly empty, and I took a moment to splash cold water on my flushed cheeks. My reflection stared back at me, eyes bright, makeup still intact. I looked happy. Carefree.
When I pushed back through the restroom door into the main bar area, I froze mid-step.
A familiar profile cut through the crowd near the entrance. Tall, commanding presence, hair perfectly styled. My heart stopped, then hammered against my ribs.
Leonardo.
He was here. In this bar. What were the odds?
I watched as he spoke to someone I couldn't see. Even from this distance, even in the dim lighting, I recognized the way he held himself, the sharp cut of his suit jacket.
He turned slightly, and my breath caught. It had to be him.
Without thinking, I pushed through the crowd, weaving between bodies and tables. "Excuse me. Sorry."
My pulse raced as I got closer. What was he doing here? Had he been following me? Was this a test?
I burst through the front door onto the street, cool night air hitting my flushed face. My eyes scanned the sidewalk frantically.
Nothing.
No Leonardo. No familiar figure in an expensive suit. Just regular people walking past, a couple waiting for their Uber, a homeless man asking for change.
I walked a few steps in each direction, peering into the shadows, checking parked cars. My phone was in my hand before I realized I'd pulled it out, Leonardo's contact staring back at me.
Should I text him? Ask if he was here?
"Ma'am?" A bouncer from the bar looked at me with concern. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," I mumbled, stuffing my phone back into my clutch. "Just thought I saw someone."
I retreated back inside, the warmth and noise of the bar washing over me again. Emma was still at our table, scrolling through her phone.
"Hey," I slid back into the booth, my heart still pounding. "Did you see anyone come in?"
Emma looked up, confused.
"I just..." I grabbed my drink, taking a long sip to steady myself. "I thought I saw Leonardo. Near the entrance."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Leonardo? Here?"
"I know it sounds crazy." I pressed my fingers to my temples. "But I swear I saw him. I went outside to look, but he was gone."
Emma reached across the table, placing her hand over mine. "Hannah, sweetie, I've been sitting here the whole time. Leonardo didn't come in."
"But I saw him," I insisted, even as doubt crept in. "At least, I thought I did."
"You've had three drinks on an empty stomach," Emma said gently. "And you've been stressed about starting the new job. Maybe you just saw someone who looked like him?"
I stared at my drink, watching the ice slowly melt. Had I imagined it? The lighting in here was dim, and I'd been thinking about him earlier when I checked my phone. Could my mind have conjured him up?
"You're probably right," I said finally, feeling foolish. "The vodka's making me see things."
"Or," Emma suggested carefully, "you're looking for him because part of you misses him."
I wanted to deny it, but the words stuck in my throat. Did I miss Leonardo? Our arrangement had ended months ago. I should be relieved, free to pursue whatever I wanted without his control.
So why had my heart leaped at the possibility of seeing him?
"Let's get some food," Emma said, mercifully changing the subject. "Those truffle fries were good, but we need actual sustenance."
"Good idea." I flagged down our server and ordered a burger and fries while Emma got nachos.
As we waited for our food, Emma steered the conversation toward safer topics: her friend's latest dating app disaster, Sofia's promotion at work, and Valentina's upcoming trip to Greece.
But my mind kept drifting back to that moment near the entrance. The profile I'd seen had been so familiar, the stance so characteristic of Leonardo's controlled power. Had it really just been my imagination?
My phone buzzed. I grabbed it eagerly, half expecting to see Leonardo's name.
It was just a spam email.
I set the phone face down on the table, trying to focus on Emma's story about a customer who'd ordered seventeen shots of tequila and then proposed to the bartender.
"Wait, so what happened?" I asked, realizing I'd missed half the story.
Emma gave me a knowing look. "You're not even listening."
"Sorry." I rubbed my face. "My head's all over the place tonight."
"Because of the Leonardo sighting that may or may not have happened?"
"Can we please drop it?" I picked at my napkin. "I was probably just seeing things."
"Or," Emma leaned forward, "maybe your subconscious wanted it to be him. Have you considered that?"
I hadn't. But now that she'd said it, the thought lodged itself in my brain, uncomfortable and persistent.