Chapter 8
Without hesitation, Hannah pushed herself up from the couch. "Send me Miles' flight details. I'll be there in minutes," she said, determination in her eyes as she hung up.
A message pinged onto her phone moments later.According to the message, Miles would be touching down at nine. The clock read eight thirty. Wasting no time, she tossed a bank card to the group of male escorts. "We're done for the evening. Take care of yourselves," she said before waving them out.
Keys in hand, Hannah hurried to the garage and slid into her car, nerves thrumming.
Before she knew it, the airport entrance loomed ahead-barely two minutes to spare before eight thirty.
Crowds packed the VIP terminal, reporters elbowing for space as they waited for a glimpse of Miles.
Hannah kept her distance. Across the sea of cameras and chaos, she spotted a man with his face hidden beneath a cap, flanked by guards. Strangely, Kenneth Adams, Miles's loyal assistant, was nowhere to be found. A hunch told her that wasn't the real Miles out there.
Moving quickly, she made her way down to the parking garage below. Sure enough, the elevator doors slid open to reveal a tall man stepping out, with Kenneth trailing just behind. She called out, her breath still ragged, "Mr. Whitaker, may I have a moment?"
Kenneth immediately stepped forward, shieldng Miles from her approach. "Mr. Whitaker isn't giving interviews tonighnt. You'll have to excuse us."
"I'm not with the press," Hannah replied, shaking her head.
Trying to make herself heard, she peered around Kenneth and addressed the man in the crisp suit, "I represent Nova Tech. I'd like to discuss a partnership "People keep showing up wanting to strike a business deal with me. Why should I waste time with you?" Miles said coolly, his tone distant. He gazed at her briefly before looking away with a frown. "Can't even manage your own clothes, apparently."
Glancing down, Hannah finally noted that her bra strap was on full display, neckline slipping lower than she realized. She must have tugged it out of place in her rush. In a rush, she straightened her outfit,silently scolding herself, "Perfect. Now he probably thinks I'm throwing myself at himn."
One quick signal from Miles, and Kenneth opened the car door to pull out a tailored jacket, offering it in her direction.
Hannah blinked in surprise. "I... Appreciate it," she said, still catching her breath. A glimmer of opportunity sparked in her eyes. "Would you mind sharing a number? I'll return the jacket to Mr.Whitaker later," she said, hoping for a connection.
"No need for that," Kenneth replied with no warmth at all. "Mr. Whitaker doesn't wear anything once someone else has touched it."
Switching her focus back to Miles, Hannah tried again, refusing to let the moment slip away. Whitaker, has Nova Tech ever come up in your research? We're pushing Al into women's safety products.I think-"
She took a step forward, attempting to close the gap,but Kenneth positioned himself directly in her path.
Miles slid into the back seat and said nothing more.
Kenneth's eyes narrowed as he gave her a dismissive look, not bothering to hide his irritation. "I've seen your type before. You're lucky Mr. Whitaker's polite-otherwise, you'd be leaving here with nothing but regret." He then hopped into the car.
With a deep growl, the car's engine started up and the luxury sedan disappeared into the night.
Impulse told Hannah to give chase, her feet already moving toward the exit.
Suddenly, the elevator chimed and slid open right someone else has touched it."
Switching her focus back to Miles, Hannah tried again, refusing to let the moment slip away. Whitaker, has Nova Tech ever come up in your research? We're pushing Al into women's safety products.I think-"
She took a step forward, attempting to close the gap,but Kenneth positioned himself directly in her path.
Miles slid into the back seat and said nothing more.
Kenneth's eyes narrowed as he gave her a dismissive look, not bothering to hide his irritation. "I've seen your type before. You're lucky Mr. Whitaker's polite-otherwise, you'd be leaving here with nothing but regret." He then hopped into the car.
With a deep growl, the car's engine started up and the luxury sedan disappeared into the night.
Impulse told Hannah to give chase, her feet already moving toward the exit.
Suddenly, the elevator chimed and slid open right beside her. Every muscle tensed as Vincent stepped out, another woman by his side, and Bobby lagging just behind them. A pang of hurt raced through her chest.
Bobby, of course, had been here to connect with Miles, dragging Vincent along to keep up appearances. But with reporters flooding the terminal, their plans had shifted to collecting Miles's sister instead.
Catching sight of Hannah in the garage, Vincent was visibly caught off guard. "What brings you here?" he asked, confusion flickering in his eyes.
Only then did a new thought occur to him-maybe she'd discovered his schedule and come here just to see him. So she still cared.
His lips parted, ready to say more, but Hannah didn't give him the chance. Her words cut the air between them. "Another woman already, Mr. Jones? That was fast."