by Kat T. Masen
“Amelia’s birthday, right,” I say with a heavy sigh. “I’d love to, but these contracts—”
“It’s not a suggestion but rather a demand,” he states firmly. “Remember who’s the boss?”
“Fine,” I tell him. “But I’m warning you… I’m this close to complaining to HR about your attitude.”
Lex chuckles, easing my worry. “It’ll be good to have you back home.”
Home—there’s that word again.
Our conversation shifts to work as it always does with us. Lex strongly suggests I call it a day and go out to unwind before I end up firing my entire team. He isn’t entirely wrong. I’ve had enough of incompetence, and today is the wrong day to fuck up under my watch.
Emile, my personal assistant, joins me for a late dinner at a small restaurant near the office. The chef is known for his stunning good looks and ability to make any cuisine taste perfect. We order the expensive champagne, laughing as we drink and eat ourselves into a stupor.
“What are we celebrating?”
“Life,” I announce, holding my glass in the air. “No celebrating, just Lex’s orders to go unwind.”
“It’s been crazy the last week. I didn’t get a chance to ask you how last weekend was?”
“Where do I begin…”
Four glasses later, I spilled the entire beans, including my affair with Dominic. It felt good to get it all out, though Emile is stunned at my admission, her big blue eyes becoming wider with curiosity the more I speak.
“Okay, so let’s start with Dominic. What are you going to do?”
“Nothing. There’s nothing to do. I’m not going to be his mistress because Allegra wants me to be. It’s complicated, and it’s not really what I want anymore…”
“You want Noah?”
“I don’t know what I want. I know that when Dominic and I were doing what we did, I felt powerful. He made me feel like a woman,” I say with honesty, knowing the glasses of champagne have something to do with it. “But when I’m with Noah… it’s just…”
“Parfaite?” She smiles while tossing her long chocolate-brown hair to the side.
“Not exactly perfect. We argue a lot.” I grin fondly. “But there’s just something between us I can’t explain. He makes me feel safe, but he understands my passions. I’m not a toy to him, nor a mistress…”
Emile leans forward, placing her hand on mine. Her fingers are adorned with rings and her nails perfectly manicured. “There’s a saying in French, Entre deux cœurs qui s’aiment, nul besoin de paroles.”
“Between two hearts that love each other, no need for words,” I repeat, letting out a sigh. “Love is a strong word.”
“Oui,” she says, her gaze fixated on mine. “Don’t let it slip away because you’re scared. This could be a good thing, Kate. This could be the moment that changes your soul forever.”
***
Charlie’s black SUV pulls up along the curb, followed by an excited wave. I hate LAX with a passion. The traffic jam of cars to the impatient people pushing through and knocking you with their suitcases. It’s been three years since I last stepped foot in California, and boy, do the awful memories come crashing like a tidal wave.
“How was the flight?” Charlie asks after loading my things into the car and giving me a tight hug.
“Exhausting.”
“You better find some energy because I’ve got three girls at home dying to suck the rest of your life away.”
Charlie isn’t exaggerating. The girls are nonstop. They have to show me everything under the sun, and on occasion, I get an “Aunty Kate, watch me!” only to watch Ava do some random jump or hop. I have no clue how both Lex and Charlie do it full-time. I’m utterly exhausted in their presence.
By dinner, I can see their faces grow tired. Amelia wants to stay up to finish watching some television show which Charlie agrees to while Lex sorts out Ava and Addison for bed.
I check my phone for what feels like the millionth time today. Still, nothing from Noah, assuming Charlie or Lex told him I was coming. I equally play my stubborn part, not contacting him because, frankly, I don’t know what to say or even how I feel. After my dinner with Emile, I thought my sentiments came out clearer. It turns out, when the champagne wore off, I was back to square one of feeling confused.
“You know, he’s home if you want to see him?” Charlie raises her eyes to meet mine.
“See who?”
Charlie’s smile fades from wary to pensive. “Noah. He texted me about some movie, asking me if it was a chick flick.”
“Oh… does he live far from here?”
“About fifteen minutes, I can give you his address?”
“No.” I grimace hopelessly. “I’m good.”
We work silently at the kitchen table putting party favors together until the pressure mounts, frustration seeps into every crevice, and I can’t take it anymore. I need closure, finality, something to make me sleep tonight.
“You know what? I’d like that address. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back soon.”
Charlie doesn’t say a word, texting me the address which appears promptly on my phone and hands me the keys to her car.
I type the address into the GPS, then remember that I’m on the other side of the road. My mind is scattered, reverting back to my English driving, giving myself a heart attack as headlights come straight at me. The road to Malibu feels longer than the fifteen minutes Charlie implied, only adding to the anxiety of it all.
The car is parked in front of his place. I hop out immediately, not giving myself time to back out, and my fist bangs on the door, louder than I should’ve allowed it to. Tapping my foot impatiently, I cross my arms until the lights come on. Noah opens the door dressed in his gray sweats and no shirt.
Shit—I’m screwed.
The direction of my eyes falls upon his perfectly sculpted chest to the six-pack of abs cut to perfection. Why does he have to be so sexy? Was he always like this?
“Kate?” His eyes widen in shock. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk.”
“You flew over here to talk?”
“No, I flew over here for Amelia’s birthday. After all, she is my goddaughter. Can I come in?”
He leans against the door in all his glory, extending his hand to welcome me in.
“Isn’t it too early for gray sweatpants season?” I mumble, averting my gaze from the noticeable bulge demanding my attention. Count to ten, take deep breaths. You can get through this.
“Gray sweatpants season?”
“Never mind,” I say while stepping into the foyer.
The condo is nothing short of stunning—a contemporary, modern space with floor-to-ceiling glass windows and, of course, the most breathtaking view of the ocean. It’s not overly large but decorated with simple furniture creating a cozy feel.
“Nice place you have here.” I draw my attention back to him, though keeping my distance. “Why did you choose Malibu?”
“I wanted something near the beach, but close to Jessa. The commute to work is painful but doable.”
Inside the living room, his laptop is open to what appears to be work emails. There’s a beer on the coffee table and some movie on the screen, which is paused on a shooting scene.
All of a sudden, my nerves cripple me. The air is tight, and I’m questioning why I came here. Just breathe. You can handle this.
“Noah, about our call.”
“Yes?”
“You said things…”
“I did say things.”
“And those things you said.”
“Yes?”
“I think you’re confused. There, I said it,” I admit, burying my feelings deep inside. If he knew how my thoughts have drifted to something more, he could use it against me like every other man in my life. “I’m a woman, one who’s in your life. We’re close, and I’m glad we’re close because I’ve missed you. But you can’t go changing things on us. We’re fine the way we are,
and with Morgan gone, I understand it’s only natural to think you have feelings for me when, in fact, maybe I’m just a rebound thought.”
Noah shuffles closer to me, closing the gap between us. My heart rate spikes, creating a frenzy within me and muddling my thoughts. I blame his scent as well as his half-naked body.
“You’re wrong,” he breathes. “Firstly, you’re not just any woman. You’re Kate Hamilton, CEO of Lexed Europe. You’re smart, intelligent, witty, and above all that, you’re beautiful.”
“A lot of women are beautiful, Noah…”
“They’re not you.”
His lips are inches away from mine. A kiss, if this is where it’s heading, can change it all, and that alone terrifies me. We’ll never be able to bounce back to just friends.
I place my hands on his chest, the instant burn inside of me becoming unbearable. I’m filled with regret for touching him, but my hands refuse to move in any other direction.
“Noah, we both need to think about this. You’re not just a fling for me or a quick fuck. There’s too much history between us. If I were with you, we’d be more.”
“I want more.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking…” I trail off as his lips inch closer and graze against mine until the sound of his phone ringing startles us both. Tilting his head to glance at the number, his eyes widen with curiosity.
“I’m sorry, I have to take this.”
He grazes my arm before grabbing his phone and answering, giving me time to gather my thoughts and regroup.
“Is everything okay?” he answers, worried, the tone in his voice panicked. “Shit. How high? Okay, just stay calm and call 911 now. I’ll try to get there soon. If I drive, it’ll take me hours. I’ll see if I get a flight, okay? Bye.”
“What’s wrong, Noah?”
His face has drained, pacing the area in front of him in a daze. “It was Olivia. Nash has a fever, and he’s stopped drinking, plus he’s really restless. I don’t know…”
I take a deep breath and stop him, clutching onto both his arms. “Look at me. You can do this. She needs you to be strong right now. Imagine how terrified she must be with him. Go get changed, pack a bag, and I’ll get the car ready and organize you a flight.”
“But work, and shit, I have to pick up Jessa for the party on Sunday.”
“I’ll get Charlie to sort it out, okay? Now go pack.”
He disappears into the room while I pull up the airlines and find the next flight to San Francisco. After booking a flight which leaves in ninety minutes, I quickly call Charlie and explain what’s happened.
“Oh my gosh. No, leave Jessa with me. I’ll text Morgan now. Does Noah need anything? I’m worried about him.”
“He’s freaked out, of course, but I’ll get him to the airport.”
“Thank you, Kate. Call me when you’re done, okay?”
I hang up the phone just as Noah walks out of the room in a pair of jeans, hoodie, and a duffel bag. We climb into Charlie’s car and race down Pacific Coast Highway at a reasonably safe speed.
“I can’t do this,” he almost chokes when the airport appears in front of us. “What if we lose him? He’s only ten weeks old.”
“You’ll do this, you know why? You have no choice. This little boy needs you. His existence isn’t a mistake.”
“You’re the first person to say that.”
“Say what?”
“That this isn’t a mistake.”
“A child should never be a mistake.” I rest my hand on his thigh to reassure him. “Sure, perhaps the timing wasn’t great, but this is what life handed you. You’re a great dad to Jessa and have so much love to give to Nash even though he may not be close by.”
The departure terminal is straight ahead and surprisingly quiet. With the car at a complete standstill, we both sit in silence until I find the courage to say what needs to be said, knowing what he should hear right now to give him strength.
“I’m here, Noah. Right beside you when you need me. You’re not alone.”
His eyes turn down, avoiding my gaze. Just one look at him, and I know he’s terrified. Noah loves his daughter, and being a father is the most crucial role in his life. Now, he’s faced with the unknown, of being a father to another child under different circumstances. I can see him fall into the dark place Charlie warned me about, my heart bleeding along with this. No matter the mistakes we make, we have to forgive ourselves in order to find true happiness.
Opening the door, he steps out of the car but then leans his head through the window.
“Wait for me, please.”
I simply nod, though not understanding if he means now or forever.
But either way, he needs me.
I don’t want to lose him, and I’ll stand by his side as the friend he so desperately needs because I refuse to let him fall.
As for my own heart, I just need to let the chips fall where they may.
NOAH
It was the moment every parent dreads—a spiked fever prompting a panicked call to the paramedics and a dash to the ER.
I stare into his little face, the face of my ten-week-old son—Nash Alexander Mason—resting in my arms while he manages to sleep without the cries of pain.
It has all been a whirlwind since the moment I stepped off the plane and headed straight for the hospital. My stomach was twisted in knots over the concern for my son and feeling completely helpless. It instills a level of fear every parent endures when their child is sick, especially an infant.
Upon arriving, Olivia is distraught, doing her best to hold it together, but I can see the exhaustion on her face from the lack of sleep to the fear over Nash’s well-being. It’s late, and she’s in her tee and sweats with her hair in one of those messy buns. Since I saw her last, she’s lost a lot of weight, the remnants of her pregnancy weight almost gone.
“Mr. and Mrs. Mason,” the doctor calls as she walks into the room with her chart. “I’m Dr. Lester.”
“No, he’s not my husband. But that’s beside the point. What’s wrong with Nash?” Olivia rushes, panicked.
“Nash has an infection. We’ve tested a range of things, some have come back negative, and other results take longer. We’d like to monitor him overnight. If his fever drops and he continues to stay hydrated, he’ll be able to go home tomorrow. Being that he’s an infant, we won’t be inducing any medication, hoping his body can fight it off.”
“How did this happen?” I question, still rocking him in my arms.
“It could’ve been anywhere. Most likely, he was exposed to someone contagious.”
Olivia bends her neck as her eyes glass over, and her posture falls in the tattered GAP t-shirt she’s wearing. “I take him for walks and to run some errands, but that’s it.”
“Let’s continue to observe him tonight. Both of you are welcome to stay, and I’ll see you in the morning,” Dr. Lester informs us before scribbling something on her chart and leaving the room.
“There was this lady at the post office. She touched his face to squeeze his cheek. It’s my fault. I’m a bad mother,” Olivia cries.
“You’re not a bad mother,” I reassure her, keeping my voice low not to wake him. “I remember when Jessa was one, we took her to the playground, and she caught chicken pox from another kid who wasn’t showing signs of the virus. These things happen, but the important thing is that you followed your maternal instincts and rushed him here.”
Olivia nods her head, wiping away the tears from her face.
“It’s been hard, Noah. He’s a fantastic sleeper during the day, but at night, he’s up every four hours,” she chokes, trying to compose herself. “My milk slowed down for some reason, and I’ve had to switch him to formula. It turns out the formula made him constipated, so then I had to try another brand.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all of this?” I stress, slightly irritated she’s held this information from me. “I told you I want to be a part of his life as much as I can be. That means kno
wing his struggles or changes to his routine.”
“Honestly, Noah, I didn’t want to burden you.”
“He’s my son.” My tone wavers before I clear my throat. “You’re not burdening me.”
Olivia raises her eyes to meet mine. “I promise to share this information, okay? I’ve just been tired. And work has been asking me to come back, and it’s a lot of things.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Nothing. I have no idea how to juggle working as an airline hostess with an infant. My hours are long, it’s not a nine-to-five job, as you know. But I can’t stay on leave forever. There are bills to pay. I’ll have to look for something else.”
“I told you I want to help, split the cost. It’s the least I can do.”
“I know, Noah. You just need to be patient with me. I have no clue what I’m doing, and I appreciate having you help when you can, especially because you’ve done this before. Speaking of which, I meant to ask you, does Morgan know about Nash?”
I nod my head, staring at Nash’s little face. Although he’s so young, his features have developed and look almost identical to when I was his age. At least, that’s according to my mom.
“I told her. She said nothing. Actually, no, she said congratulations with a forced smile and hasn’t asked about him since.”
Olivia’s brows draw together as her face softens. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I remark harshly, frustrated with Morgan’s attitude. “Morgan is difficult, and it’s not your problem.”
“Here, let me take Nash, and why don’t you go get something to eat?”
I hand him over to her, the instant weight disappearing from my arms, leaving me hollow. I tell her I’ll be back, walking out of the room and outside the hospital for some fresh air.
The air in San Francisco inhales much differently than LA. Clearer, or perhaps, it’s all in my imagination. With my phone in hand, I hit dial to Kate, promising I’d update her once I had some news.
“Noah, is everything okay? We’re all worried here?” Kate rushes.
“An infection. They’re doing some further tests and monitoring him overnight. The fever has dropped, slightly.”