“Or, the way she comes off when you don’t really know her?”
I did not want to explain why people called Hannah’s sister the Ice Princess. “I’m sure she’s a nice person once you get to know her.” Not exactly a good conversation for the second time we met.
Hannah laughed, and the light, airiness of it entranced me. “You are not the first person I have heard that from. I think the first was back in second grade, and it was my mother who had said it.” Hannah leaned toward me. “She wasn’t wrong. Not even all these years later.”
“But I bet she never said anything like that about you,” I guessed.
Hannah smiled wide. “Well, no, but I’m sure there are other things muttered about me. I’d much rather not know what those are, though.”
Things were always said behind people’s backs. It normally was best not to know what those things were.
“But we’re not here to talk about that.” She looked expectantly at me.
“Uh, we’re not?” I still had no clue why she was here.
“No. The first thing you need to tell me is what your name is?”
Samson let out a woof from my office and came barreling into the front area.
“Oh my!” Hannah gasped.
“Samson, no,” I called.
Samson didn’t listen. He could sense the same thing I could when Hannah was around. He needed to be as close to her as he could.
I thought for sure she was going to be terrified at the large dog barreling down on her, but she did the exact opposite of running or screaming.
She crouched down and held her arms out wide to Samson.
Samson lavished her with kisses all over her face and pressed his broad chest into her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his white mane.
Samson was a perfect judge of people. He loved up on Hannah Mitcham and reaffirmed my belief that she was the complete opposite of her sister.
“What a good boy you are,” she cooed.
She ran her hands all over his body, and Samson wiggled around until his butt was toward her. She rubbed his hind haunches, and he looked up at her adoringly.
Well, she had Samson wrapped around her finger already, and it had taken only thirty seconds.
Me, too, Samson. Me. Too.
Hannah finally stood and brushed some of Samson’s loose hair off her pants. “I love dogs,” she sighed.
“I noticed.”
She laughed and reached down to ruffle the top of Samson’s head. “He’s such a beautiful, big boy. What kind is he?”
“Sheepnees. Australian Shepard and Great Pyrenees.”
“That explains his coat and his size.”
“Samson,” I called. The big mutt looked at me. “Go lay down,” I ordered.
Samson sighed but turned around and headed to his bed that was by the front door.
I kept my eyes on Hannah, who watched Samson.
She smiled blissfully as Samson turned three circles on the pillow and then finally laid down.
“Hannah,” I called.
Her eyes darted to me, almost as if she forgot that I was there. “Yes?” She waved her hands and shook her head. “Your name,” she blurted. “I wanted to know what your actual name was. Nessa and I got in a bit of a tiff the other night when I mentioned I had given you my number but didn’t know your actual name.”
“My name is Ice.” She knew that.
“I know that’s your gang na–.”
“Road,” I interrupted. “It’s my road name, and I’m in a motorcycle club, not a gang. There’s a huge difference, darlin’.”
Hannah held up her hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just get flustered sometimes, and then I talk without really thinking about what’s coming out of my mouth.” She tapped her head and laughed. “It makes sense up here, but then it’s like it gets lost in translation.”
“Honest mistake,” I murmured.
“I would like to know the name you were given at birth. I have to assume that your mother did not name you Ice when you were born.”
“That you would be correct about.”
She smiled expectantly. “So, what is your name?”
I had gone by the name Ice for the last eleven years. Hell, half of the guys didn’t even know my birth name. It wasn’t anything embarrassing; it just wasn’t what I knew myself as. “This is what you need from me?”
Hannah shook her head but then nodded. “I need help, but I can’t get your help until I know what your name is. Once I know that, we can proceed.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a little confusing, darlin’?”
Hannah shrugged. “A time or two.”
“If I tell you my name, what am I going to get out of it?” I asked.
Hannah tipped her head to the side. “Well, nothing. I don’t have much to offer.”
That was where she was wrong. Looking at Hannah, I could see many things she had to offer. “We’ll figure that out later.” I hitched my finger at her to move closer.
She took two steps toward me and leaned in.
“Kristopher.”
She smiled. “Last name?”
“Darlin’, you sure are asking a lot of me when I don’t know if I’m going to get anything back.”
She bit her bottom lip and looked up at me. “Well, I promise you’ll get something back. Eventually.”
“Nylon.” I shook my head and chuckled. Hannah Mitcham was as pure as I had ever met.
“Like Rose?”
I tipped my head to the side. Maybe Hannah had a screw loose. “Um, what, darlin’?”
Hannah laughed. “I’m assuming you haven’t watched Golden Girls. One of the characters’ last names is Nylon. It was a lame joke.”
“That the show with the old broads?”
“Yeah.” She shook her head. “You might want to catch it in reruns sometime.”
Not something I would do. “Now that you know my name, you want to tell me what kind of help you need?” I asked.
Hannah looked around. “Um, is there someplace we can talk in private?”
“We’re the only ones here right now, darlin’. The rest of the guys are at the job site. Your sister finally got the rest of our steel over to us.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You figured out who I am, huh?”
I nodded and smirked. “Mercury helped me put the puzzle pieces together Friday night. I figured you for a cousin or something, but he said you were Hal’s other daughter.”
“Did you know my dad?” she asked.
I nodded. “We met a couple of times. He always seemed to be hanging around when we came by the fabricating plant. Solid guy.”
“He was.”
I hitched my thumb over my shoulder toward my office. “We can talk in my office if you want. Not fancy, but I got a chair you can sit your butt on.”
Hannah nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
I led the way to my office and motioned to the chair in front of my desk.
Hannah sat, and I moved around to my chair. Samson lumbered into the office and plopped right at Hannah’s feet. “Traitor,” I muttered.
Samson grumbled and flopped back with his head on her feet. Hannah reached down and scratched him behind the ear. “Such a good boy,” she whispered to him.