Free Miss You Mad: a psychological romance novel by Thea Atkinson

"Don't hang up. It's me."
    Her voice came in a near whisper. "Daniel?" Her query was a broken sounding one, like a vinyl record with a warp.
    "Say more than that," she said. "Tell me something about the beach."
    "The beach is beautiful."
    She hissed at me. "More."
    "It's a great place to get sick."
    I heard her relief, but I had no idea why she sounded so relieved. "What's wrong?" I asked.
    "Can I meet you for supper?"
    Bulls eye. And I didn't even have to aim.
     
     

I found Hannah sitting completely naked on the immaculate sofa in the hotel lobby. Thick and curling blonde hair teased a nicely erect pink nipple, matching hued hair curled around her crotch. I swallowed hard, remembering the head she had given me in the bathroom of the pub and it took several seconds for me to realize that I was only imagining her the way I wanted her to be. I'd been watching so much of her videos online that I had to shake my head to rid my mind of the image it wanted to see. She wasn't nude at all. Just sitting contemplative on the sofa, staring off into the space around me as though she didn't see me there at all. I jammed stubby fingers into my jeans pockets.
    Hannah actually wore a kerchief around her hair, tied up in front like the pancake box lady. She looked like she had been sitting for a long time. She pulled her fingers through a lock of errant hair that had either come loose on its own or that she pulled from the kerchief. I winced as I watched her tear to shreds her bottom lip.
    I took a few steps toward her, trying to make a show of my presence so I wouldn't scare her.
    "I made it."
    She started, then quickly regained composure. "I'm glad." She stood, pulling at the knot. "I hope you're hungry."
    Hungry? She had no idea.
    "You have no idea," I joked. "I'm more hungry than I've been in months."
    We strolled down the ramp built for those patrons who couldn't manage the three steps to the lower level, I scuffing my toes against the carpet, and she delicately avoiding the hole that had been worn into the edge as we reached the bottom. Despite the well-known tastiness of the hotel's food, the restaurant was nearly empty. She immediately went to the corner table and took the chair at the back.
    "Your paperwork was approved today." I sat and watched her, figuring she'd move out of the fog with the news.
    Hannah's round face did light up. She actually looked relieved and for some reason that made the knot in my own stomach untie.
    "Great," she said. "I really need that money." She threw open the cloth napkin and laid it across her jean-clad lap.
    "It helped that you had the assets in Toronto to back up the loan."
    Again, I watched her. She was giving off weird vibes. I began to wonder what the hell was going on. I began to think it had something to do with her needing the loan. I'd grown incredibly suspicious since the days I come into my fortune. Too many women had given me far too much sex in the hopes of receiving nice long vacations or jewelry or whatever the hell else women wanted and then promptly left me once they realized I was okay with the sex, but not so much with the whoring for it. I'd almost been sick when I thought she might be playing me, and was even sicker when I realized I was relieved that she had the assets to cover the loan.
    Even so, history had made me very wary.
    "Why would you need a loan if you already have loads of money?"
    She rewarded my subtlety with a stabbing look. "Can we at least order first? I've had a rough day."
    The gentleman in me rose to the occasion. " You've had a hard day? Mine was pure hell."
    She chose to say nothing in favour of hiding behind her menu. The waitress came and went; water was poured into our dishwasher-stained glasses before she came up for air.
    "I'll tell you everything, Daniel. Believe it or not, for some weird reason, I trust you. Then again, maybe I'm just desperate. But let me tell you in my own time. I have to breathe."
    I yanked off a bit of crust from the roll on my