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Again, she’s unmoved. “Are you working for the government?”
Shit. This is exactly why I haven’t revealed jack shit to any other woman I’m dating. Because I’ve always known one revelation about my work would naturally lead to lots more. I look around to make sure nobody is around and whisper, “Yes. But that’s a detail I’m not supposed to reveal to anyone because of my NDA. You can’t tell a soul.”
“I won’t. I promise.” She tilts her head. “Do you even have your passport with you?”
“I do now. I didn’t when the client called today, but they arranged for a messenger to get it from my apartment and bring it to me at your place.”
Hannah throws up a hand in frustration. “Now see, that’s exactly the kind of story I would have thought you’d tell your girlfriend over dinner.”
I make a face conveying my confusion. “Why? I never talk about my work. Like I said, most of the time, I’m governed by an NDA—or if not, there’s always at least an implied promise to keep my mouth shut.”
Hannah exhales. “But when Josh asked where you’re going, you told him right away. You didn’t say, ‘I can’t tell you that.’”
Again, she’s got a point.
She says, “It’s not that I think you’ve been specifically hiding tomorrow’s destination from me. It’s more that I feel like I’m not first in line to hear your stories. Like you don’t trust me as much as you trust Josh and the other people at that table tonight. I don’t like that feeling, Henn. We’re not acquaintances or buddies. I’m supposedly your girlfriend.”
“Not supposedly. You are.”
“Well, to me, a girlfriend is the person you want to share the news of your life with. Good, bad, silly news. Whatever.”
I twist my mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry won’t fix it, if we don’t figure out what’s going on here.” She exhales. “I don’t think the Munich thing would have rubbed me so wrong if it hadn’t been for the finder’s fee revelation right before that.”
Okay, here we go. Finally, the thing I thought we were coming out here to discuss.
“I respect and admire that you’re a humble, down to earth person,” Hannah says. “You’re not one to brag about anything, and that’s attractive to me. I also fully accept your finances are none of my business. But all that said, it was embarrassing and disheartening to find out from Sarah, and not from my boyfriend, that you’d had such an exciting thing happen to you this week. It was also humiliating to realize that everyone at the table assumed you’d already told me about your exciting thing, which made me feel like I had to play along to save face.” Hannah scowls. “I really didn’t like that, Henn—knowing you didn’t trust me enough to tell me something everyone else already knew. I felt stupid and embarrassed about that.”
I shift my weight. “If it makes you feel any better, we all had to sign a strict confidentiality agreement. That’s probably why Kat didn’t tell you about the money, either.”
“Kat’s not my boyfriend.”
“True,” I say softly.
“Speaking of Kat, it makes perfect sense now that she quit her job today, and without notice. I’d quit suddenly too, if I had a million bucks sitting in my bank account.” She levels me with her big, blue eyes. “What was the finder’s fee for? What did you three find to the tune of a million bucks each? And who made you sign the NDA?”
Hannah’s eyes are searching. Vulnerable. Pleading with me to enlighten her—to let her in and confirm she’s every bit my trusted confidante as the others. All of a sudden, I realize this is a make-or-break moment for our budding relationship. Either I trust Hannah enough to tell her the basics about what went down in Vegas, or I don’t—and if not, then she’s absolutely right: I can’t rightly call myself her boyfriend.
I look around, making sure nobody is nearby and then whisper, “Okay, what I’m about to tell you is highly confidential, so you can’t tell a soul. Not even Maddy.”
Hannah nods solemnly, her blue eyes sparkling. “I swear on my life.”
I look around again. “The reason Sarah felt comfortable talking about this, I think, is that it’s really her secret to tell or keep—not mine. But now that she’s included you in our circle of trust, I think it’s fair for me to tell you the gist of what happened.”
A couple walks past us on the sidewalk, so I wait a minute for them to pass before speaking again. “Sarah found out her employer—a high-end dating agency—was doing some shady shit on the down-low, and she got scared for her safety. Rightfully so, because she was physically attacked by one of their goons.”
Hannah gasps. “What? When?”
“Right before Vegas. She’s okay now. But of course, Jonas went ballistic and wanted to protect her at all costs. So, at Josh’s request, I flew to Vegas to meet with the group—Sarah, Jonas, Josh, and Kat—and we put our heads together and figured out a way to take the motherfuckers down.” I tell her the basics of what our Ocean’s Eleven crew did and explain that my specific job was pilfering information and funds from the bad guys’ online system. “Sarah put all the info into a detailed report,” I explain, “which we then turned over to the FBI, along with a whole bunch of their dirty money. As part of the deal Jonas struck with the feds, we took a small cut of the funds recovered. Plus, Jonas promised I’d help them process all the information and data we’d turned over, which is why I flew to DC after Vegas.”
