Running Deep by Bette Hawkins

Author:Bette Hawkins [Hawkins, Bette]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781642471175
Publisher: Bella Books
Published: 2020-04-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Hannah ran on the treadmill, staring up at the television suspended over the machines. The talking head on the screen, a blond woman with a square jaw, had interviewed her a few times. Reporters always looked so different when you saw them in person.

Over the silent movement of the reporter’s mouth, an Elvis Costello song played through her headphones. While she watched, she mused over the fact that Angie would be at her house again in an hour.

The anger and bewilderment that had lived in Hannah for so long didn’t have a home anymore. All she felt was excitement at the thought of spending time with Angie again.

At her apartment, Hannah rinsed off sweat and chlorine. It was almost time for Angie to arrive and she still had to do something about her hair. It hung around her face, stringy and damp. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d blow-dried it.

She rummaged around in the cupboard under the sink, cocking her head. The bathroom was on the second level, and she thought she’d heard a knocking on the front door at the bottom of the stairs. A moment later there was a gentle tapping.

“Shit!” she said, reaching for the robe on the back of her bathroom door. It had an ugly paisley pattern on it, but it had been a gift from Viv, and she liked the soft fabric. She glanced at herself in the mirror and decided that she looked so bad she could only laugh about it.

As she opened the door, she pulled the belt tighter around her waist. Angie was bright and summery, standing on her small porch in her brown leather sandals and a sky-blue sundress.

“Hey.”

Angie paused, a grocery bag clutched in each hand. Her gaze dragged up and down Hannah’s body, her eyes wide. “Sorry. Did I get the time wrong?”

“No! My bad, time got away from me. Come on in. Here, let me take one of those.”

Their fingers brushed when Hannah took a bag and Angie followed. Hannah set the bag down on the white marble kitchen island.

“Do you mind if I…” Hannah said, gesturing upstairs.

“Of course! Can I get started on dinner? I’m going to make us tofu and sweet potato curry. Does that sound okay?”

“That’s perfect. Help yourself to anything you need. I won’t be long.”

There wasn’t time to do anything about her hair, but she put on some mascara and lip gloss, then dressed in a loose button-up white shirt. She wasn’t used to the noises of someone puttering about in the kitchen, pans rattling and the fan over the hotplate whirring.

“Can you find everything okay down there?” she called.

“I’ve got this, don’t worry!”

She zipped up her jeans. On the steps, she lingered to observe Angie moving around her kitchen, her feet bare. At the island where Angie had laid the chopping board, she sliced onion in smooth strokes.

“Can I help with anything?” Hannah asked, finally descending the last few steps.

“Thanks, but I’m good. Why don’t you take a load

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