by Louise Bay
ELEVEN
Truly
I never understood people who said their hands shook with nerves. It had never happened to me. Until today. I held out my arms, palms down, and then snatched them back and sat on them, not wanting to see how they shook in front of me. There was so much resting on today. The future of the foundation—all those kids at the rehab center. It was like a mountain of pressure and expectation bearing down on my chest.
“Come in,” I yelled at a knock on my office door. I usually kept it open, but I hadn’t wanted anyone to witness my freaking out.
Noah appeared in the doorway and I exhaled, instantly feeling a little better. And then I groaned. Seeing Noah shouldn’t make me feel better. I was trying not to fall down that particular rabbit hole. He was insanely good-looking in his navy suit and a dark-pink tie. Jesus, he never looked like anything other than male model material, but couldn’t he have toned it down for today rather than turn up the volume? For my sake? The blue brought out his eyes and his crisp white shirt emphasized his long, tan neck. He looked like he should be making deals in New York City, not helping out in some tumbledown office in Shepherd’s Bush.
“How are you doing? Do you need a paper bag?”
“No, but if you have a glass of wine, I’ll take it. Seriously, Noah, I don’t think I can go through with this.”
“It’s too late to back out now.” He glanced at his watch. “People will be arriving any minute.”
“Those kids at the rehab center really need our help. If I mess this up—”
“Those kids are the reason you’re not going to mess this up. They’re the reason we went through the presentation a thousand times yesterday. Stop trying to find a way out. Focus on how much preparation you’ve done, and how you know this place better than anyone in that room will. You have it down.” He grinned, and the pulsing in my ears relented and the corners of my mouth turned up. How did he do that?
“Right, I got this,” I whispered.
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” he said.
“Better than what?”
“That sad little smile. These donors want happy, upbeat, and smiley.”
I rolled my eyes. “In other words, they want my sister.”
“I’ve never understood why you always think Abigail is more capable than you at everything.”
Wasn’t it obvious? “Because she is. We are the exact opposites. She’s—”
“Yeah, you’re very different. But you’re not worse than her at everything.”
It was obvious that he was trying to boost my confidence, build me up. But he wasn’t going to talk me out of knowing how my sister and I compared. I had a lifetime’s evidence to fall back on. “No, you’re right. I have an affinity for spreadsheets that she doesn’t share, and I can wipe the floor with her in a pub quiz as long as it doesn’t have too many reality TV questions.”
“You really don’t get it, do you?”
That was the point. I got it and I was fine with it. “Can we just focus on this meeting?”
He took a chair opposite my desk. “Do you have the printouts?” he asked.
I tapped the stack of papers at the end of my desk.
“So, you’re focused on your five goals for today?” His tone was stern and authoritative, and if I hadn’t been so nervous, I might have let my mind wander to whether or not he was like that in bed.
“Smile and eye contact,” I said, reciting the first thing Noah was having me concentrate on. “That really should be two. Because they are completely different things. You can smile without eye contact and make eye contact without—”
“Truly,” he growled as my voice climbed higher and higher. “Be calm. What’s next?”
“Don’t choke.”
He chuckled but I was serious. “And you’re in the meeting, why?” I asked.
“To make sure you don’t choke.”
“Funny. But seriously, how are we going to explain why you’re in the room?” I checked the time. People should be arriving any minute.
“We should just be honest.”
“You think we should tell them that because I’m incompetent at dealing with people, you’re sitting in on the meeting in case I have an anxiety attack?”
“Get up,” he said, as he stood and rounded my desk.
I frowned but did as he asked. He kicked my chair away and walked behind me. “Great outfit,” he said, and I’d have sworn, if I didn’t know better, he was checking out my arse. “Is this what the stylist sent over?”
This pencil skirt seemed far too tight and the shirt—I mean the green silk was beautiful. But it was far clingier than I was used to. I was sure to spill something down it before the end of the day. “I feel like I’m dressing up in someone else’s clothes. Do I look ridiculous?”
“Anything but. You look great.” He swept my hair in front of my shoulders, and I tried not to shudder. Touching me wasn’t part of our deal. What was he doing? He brought his hands to my neck. “Christ, you’re as tight as a drum,” he said as he began kneading his fingers into my bunched muscles.
“What are you doing?” His touch had me stiffening instead of relaxing. He didn’t touch me. That wasn’t the kind of friends we were. Was he trying to force me further out of my comfort zone?
He pressed my shoulders down. “Just relax and let me loosen some of this tension.”
“I really don’t think . . .” I sighed. His fingers felt good. They were distracting and firm, and as he worked, the scent of fresh laundry and lemon body wash hovered around me and I gave in. My shoulders dropped and my mind washed free of anxiety. I shouldn’t be letting him touch me. I was supposed to be keeping him at arm’s length, not allowing myself to think of him as anything but a colleague. I didn’t want to go backward and be that girl with an unrequited crush. But right now, I was saving my fight for the boardroom.
We stood in silence as he continued to knead the knots he found.
“When you let yourself relax,” he whispered into my ear, his warm breath floating against my skin, “you’re better able to focus.”
Noah released my neck and slowly smoothed his hands down my arms when someone knocked on my door. “You’re going to be great.”
Great? I’d be happy to get out alive, but I was so dizzy from Noah’s touch that I’d forgotten to be anxious.
“Remember, you know this foundation inside out and back to front. You understand the charities you help and you care about them deeply. Just be yourself.”
As he spoke, I still felt the echo of his hands, and the noise in my head continued to remain at a distance and my breathing stayed even. Maybe this meeting would be okay.
My assistant popped her head in. “They’re starting to arrive. I’ve shown them into the boardroom.”
“Thanks, Lisa. We’re coming. Are the refreshments in there?”
“Yep, everything’s set up.”
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”
I’d started to stride out when Noah called me. “Don’t you want the presentations? And your notes?”
I winced and headed back to my desk, collecting everything I needed. We headed down the corridor, but as I paused to knock on the boardroom door, Noah grabbed my wrist. “This is your foundation. You don’t knock.”
Shit. Right.
“You have nothing to be nervous about.” His tone was so calm and authoritative, he sounded so sure, it was easy to believe him. I exhaled. “Head up. Smile.”
I lifted my chin and plastered on a grin before walking into the room.
Here we go.
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, I was done. After making chitchat with the donors, I went through my presentation. No one had interrupted, and I hadn’t passed out, but I had barely drawn breath or looked up.
“Is it possible to get an electronic copy of the slides?” one donor asked.
“Of course,” I replied, scribbling down a note for myself. “I’ll send everyone a copy.”
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br /> “It’s impressive how you do so much with what you have,” another donor said.
I smiled, my shoulders dropping as I drew a deep breath. I closed my pack of slides, grateful that I had finished the meeting before passing out. “Just drop me an email if you think of any questions later on,” I said and stood. “And if I don’t see you all before, then I’ll no doubt see you at the winter ball.”
After a couple of awkward goodbyes, I saw everyone out. And just as I shook hands with the last donor, I realized what I’d done—or hadn’t.
My legs were weak and my mouth was dry as I stumbled back into the boardroom where Noah was waiting. “Oh, God—I didn’t ask them to commit to funding next year,” I said, leaning back on the closed door. “How could I have forgotten?”
Noah coaxed me over to sit next to him. “I think it was fine. You made the presentation and connected with the group. That was the hardest part, and you nailed it. Now you can follow up with a personalized email, thanking them for coming and asking them to let you know what they are planning to donate next year.”
I let the heat of his body warm me, and everything seemed a little bit better. “You think I can do that? That’s not what Abigail does.”
“But you’re not Abigail. You’re Truly. You don’t have to be a carbon copy of your sister to do this job.”
“I hate being so crap at this stuff. Abigail is just so—”
“Abigail’s been doing it a long time. Everything gets easier with practice.”
“Well, I’d rather just stick to what I’m good at.”
“Really?” he asked. “Where’s the challenge in that? Don’t you want to master new things?”
“It’s not what comes naturally to me. Numbers come naturally. They never did to Abigail.”
He paused. “So you can only be good at something if Abigail isn’t?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” I’d enjoyed arguing and debating with Noah when we were friends before. But our discussions usually centered on politics or science. I couldn’t remember it ever being personal before. I wasn’t used to him, or anyone, focusing on me and challenging me in such a personal way. “I’m saying, she’s naturally better than me at some things, so it makes sense for her to focus on that stuff. I’m never going to be good at this public-speaking thing, so why force it? If I can’t be exceptional at something, why not put my efforts somewhere where I know I can be the best?”
“Maybe you avoid public speaking because you don’t want people to compare you and Abigail?”
“That’s not fair, Noah. I’ve known Abigail since before we were born. I love my sister, and I have no hang-ups about her being beautiful and confident. People are drawn to her and so am I. I hate to be the center of attention, but she flowers under people’s scrutiny.”
“I know you love your sister. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m asking why you compare yourself so negatively to her.”
“Have you met Abi, Noah?”
He shrugged. “She has her talents and you have yours. You’re both brilliant, beautiful, highly successful women. I don’t understand why you see yourself as being less than her. To an outsider, it makes no sense.”
Beautiful? Did he just call me beautiful?
“And if you keep comparing yourself to her,” he continued. “You might miss out on new experiences if you don’t accept that you might not be great at everything you try.”
“I started running,” I blurted out. “I’m terrible at it. But I tried it.”
“Good for you,” Noah said, nodding his head.
“And I’m going to keep doing it too, so I can get better. But at the same time, I do think it’s possible to spread yourself too thinly.”
“Maybe that’s true,” he said, his brow furrowed and his eyes fixed to the wall. “I just think you have a lot to offer the world. We all have more inside than we realize, and sometimes it takes something like your sister being ill or . . . my accident to bring that out. This is your chance to rewrite and reinvent yourself a little. You might find you’re better at this stuff than you think.”
“Your accident? You think that changed you?”
“It reframed things for me. It showed me the impossible was possible.”
God, here I was whining about giving a presentation when Noah had had to overcome much worse just to be able to walk again. I needed to accept that the next few months were going to be hard, but that with Noah’s help, I’d get to that finish line. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be good at giving presentations and speeches, but for the next few months, I need to accept my fate and get on with it.”
“You’ll relax and improve. Given how nervous you were just a few minutes before you went in today, I think you did just fine.”
“Despite the fuck-up at the end?” My shoulders sagged. “It was a lackluster performance. I need to do better.”
“You’re being way too hard on yourself. This was a major milestone.”
“Next time is going to be a hell of a lot more pressure.”
“The awards speech?”
I sighed. “Exactly. First, I have to stand up. Second, I have to wear an evening gown—I look completely ridiculous dressed up like that. Then I have to give a speech in front of two hundred and fifty people. I can barely manage a seated presentation in front of six people.” My heart began to race at the thought of all those faces staring up at me, all that attention. Perhaps I could break my own leg with a hammer or something.
“These are people who love the foundation. They give up their free time to volunteer and fundraise. They start off on your side.”
“But they don’t know me.”
“They will by the end of the evening. Do you have something to wear? Because we’re not seeing the stylist until afterwards.”
“I can wear what I wore to the winter ball last year,” I mumbled, then glanced up. “But thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you here today. I’m not sure I would have even made it to the boardroom. You’ve been a counterbalance for the voice inside my head telling me I’m useless.”
“If only you had a little more faith in yourself.”
“I mean it. I really owe you.”
“Let’s get through this, and I can think up ways you can pay me back.” He pulsed his eyebrows and chuckled.
How did he always stay so relaxed and laid back? “In the meantime, I have a ton of new experiences to look forward to, whether or not I’m ready.”
“You’re more than ready. And I’ll be right here alongside you.”
That’s all I’d ever wanted from Noah—for him to be by my side—eating Chinese takeaway or beating me at video games, but he was too restless for that to keep him happy for long. Our time together was temporary. It always would be. He wanted new and exciting. He liked a different girl every few months. Always focused on a new goal as soon as the last one was mastered.
Noah was always ten steps ahead, looking to the horizon, while I was happy staying in one spot, staring at my feet.
TWELVE
Noah
I closed the door of my newly purchased Range Rover and headed to the door of Truly’s building in my tux. It seemed strange that she still lived in the same flat. Since I’d last been here, I’d moved between continents, built a business, and was now on my third apartment in that time. It was almost as if we were exact opposites in so many ways but then again, sometimes when we talked I’d never felt so similar to someone.
I pressed the buzzer. No answer.
I waited a few moments, but when I didn’t see her coming down the stairs through the partially glazed doors, I buzzed again. I’d never known her to be late for anything.
“I feel ridiculous,” she replied through the intercom.
I had to bite back a grin. “Do you want me to come up?”
“No, I’m on my way. Will you tell me if I look like a crazy person?”
“Truly, you’re not going to look ridiculous.” Truly was an attractive girl, and although she r
arely made the most of herself, I was sure she looked perfectly fine as long as the dress was appropriate. “Get down here or I’m coming up and we’ll be late.”
She blew out a deep breath and the intercom went dead.
Instead of waiting in the car, I hovered at the door. Perhaps she’d changed her mind about wearing the dress she had worn to the winter ball and had decided to wear something a bit mental.
I cupped my hand over my eyes and peered through the glass. The lift doors opened and Truly stepped out.
I barely recognized her. She wasn’t just attractive, she was a complete bombshell. The breath left my lungs. She looked incredible. The red dress perfectly showed off her hourglass figure, and her dark brown hair fell in glossy waves around her shoulders.
Jesus, was this what she was covering up with baggy jumpers and yoga pants? I’d always known she was attractive. I’d hit on her when I’d first met her—and I’d gotten a hint of it when she wore that pencil skirt at the presentation—but I hadn’t realized quite how gorgeous she was until now. Or I’d forgotten, if that was possible.
She grinned at me through the glass, a wide, unselfconscious smile I knew was genuine. One she reserved for the people in her life she really liked. I felt like the luckiest guy on earth.
The lock released and I opened the door. “You look beautiful,” I said, wanting her to believe it.
“Noah,” she admonished, dipping her gaze to the floor.
“I mean it. Really beautiful.”
“Well,” she said, glancing at me. “You don’t scrub up so bad yourself.” She lifted her hand as if she was going to touch me, then snatched it away.
“We should get going,” she said. “We don’t want to be late.”
I guided her down the stone steps to the car, my hand in the small of her back. As I touched her, she glanced at me. “Truly stunning.”
I needed to remember this wasn’t a date. She wasn’t my date. We were friends. I was just helping her out. I was here to calm her nerves and nothing more.
I held open the car door and took her hand as she climbed in.