by Louise Bay
“And you’re going for drinks with each other, and he’s taking you home. And just then? You were so . . . aware of each other. So . . . like you’re both only thinking about each other.”
There were serious disadvantages in having a twin sister. Why couldn’t I have had an oblivious older brother? I took a long glug of wine to avoid answering.
“Truly, I’m not trying to pry.” She paused. “Well, I’m totally prying, but I just want you to be careful.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nothing’s going on. Things are . . . professional. . . .” Ish.
“Do you like him?”
“Of course I like him. We’ve always been friends. You know that.”
“You know what he’s like, Truly. I’ve never met one of his girlfriends twice. He’s not your type of guy.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know. Far too good-looking.”
“Pft. It’s not that. You are totally gorgeous but far too lovely to be used and thrown away by Noah Jensen.”
She must be worried if she was throwing compliments around so easily. Gorgeous and lovely were adjectives used about my sister. I got “bookish” and “interesting.” “Seriously, Abi. It’s not like that. Not even a little bit.”
“You’re a terrible liar. Tell me what happened, or I’ll just call Noah up here and ask him myself.”
“Abi, please. Just—” There was no point trying to convince her to drop it. She was like a dog with a bone, and I had no doubt that if I didn’t tell her, she’d ask Noah in front of me and I’d likely die of shame on the spot. “Nothing really. I was on such a high after the speech went well . . . We went for drinks. And, I don’t know. He kissed me. It’s not a big deal. We were both a little drunk—on adrenaline and tequila.” There was nothing more to it than that. “It’s not like we slept together or anything.”
She sighed and rubbed her belly. I wasn’t sure if she was soothing her baby or herself. “But today there’s so much—I don’t know what—between you. That kiss wasn’t nothing. I’m worried—”
I sat on the edge of the bed, and she shuffled back to make room for me. “Don’t be. It was a one-off. I know that men like Noah and girls like me don’t mix.” And I was telling the truth. The way he looked at me, touched me, held me today—I needed to keep my heart safe.
“You’re a beautiful soul who doesn’t know how not to give something or someone everything you have. I’m worried for you. Men like Noah . . .” She shook her head.
She was worried he’d hurt me. She didn’t realize that it was too late for that. An unrequited crush was the worst type of heartache. But I was over that. This was different. It was an alcohol-fueled kiss and it was over. “Don’t worry. My heart is safe.”
“Maybe you just need to take positive action to make sure that remains the case. Call up an ex-boyfriend. Join a class. Do some online dating. Just don’t get caught up in . . . him.”
She’d never known how caught up I’d been all those years ago. But this time was different. I understood the risks. I knew Noah—what he was capable of, who I was to him. That knowledge was inoculation. Against falling in love. But perhaps an insurance policy wasn’t such a bad idea.
Maybe Abigail was right, and I needed something else to spend my time on. I’d kept up with my running, but it wasn’t the distraction I’d hoped for. If anything, it gave me more time to think. I needed something that would stop me from thinking about Noah when I wasn’t with him. Something that would stop me from looking forward to the next time I saw him.
I needed him in the just-friends box. And then I had to nail the lid shut, just to make sure that’s where he stayed.
SIXTEEN
Noah
I needed a drink. I knocked on Rob and Abigail’s front door and saw Rob’s silhouette through the glass before he opened the door.
“Hey, you know I’m not cooking, right?” He shoved a beer into my hand and headed back toward the kitchen. “You’re far too used to my culinary skills. When’s the last time you cooked dinner?”
“What a welcome.” I chuckled. “I’m here for a drink, anyhow.” I took a long swig.
Rob collapsed onto the sofa in their family room, and I took a seat next to him. “We can order Chinese.”
“Sounds good.” I didn’t care about food. I’d been in meetings all day, and I was exhausted. Rob hadn’t been my first choice of company, but Truly hadn’t returned my call or answered my text. It had been days since I’d seen her and nearly a week since I’d last touched her.
“So, why are you in such bad need of alcohol?” he asked.
I frowned at the footsteps on the stairs. “Is Abigail allowed up?” I lifted my chin toward the sound.
“That’s Truly. She wanted Abigail’s opinion on shoes or makeup or—how the fuck do I know? She’s freaking out over some date.”
My body went icy cold, and I took another swig of beer, trying to hide my shock. A date? A fucking date?
Perhaps Rob had it wrong and it was dinner with a donor. Or a friend or—a fucking date? Seriously?
“I’m off,” Truly said, appearing in the doorway and almost gasping when she saw me, as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
I got a weird sense of satisfaction from the fact that seeing me was so unexpected.
She looked incredible. She wore her long black hair in loose, glossy waves over a fitted blue dress that was cut low enough to tease but not low enough to look easy. Where had that come from? She hadn’t bought it from the stylist. Her lips were a blush pink, and I’d never seen her in such high heels.
“Hi,” she said, smiling at me.
“I called you,” I said, and regretted it. I sounded like her dad, chastising her for not checking in.
“You did?” She pulled out her phone. “Sorry, I—”
“Doesn’t matter. You look nice.”
She glanced down at herself and then looked up with a grin. “Really? Thanks.”
Why wasn’t she saying anything about the fact she was going on a date? Was this a regular thing? Had she dated since our kiss? Kissed someone else since me? Was she fucking someone?
Jesus, I needed to snap out of it.
“Did you need to speak to me about something?” she asked.
I shook my head and took a swig of beer. What was I going to say? I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out, have a beer. I wanted to know if I could kiss you again. “Nothing. I had a suggestion for one of the new donor presentations, but I’ll email you.”
“Okay, well I’m off.” Her gaze bore into me, but I had to keep focused on my beer or I was going to do something I’d regret.
“Make sure you message Abigail before the night is out, or she’ll keep me awake all night speculating about how it went,” Rob said.
Fuck. Who the bloody hell was she going out with?
Truly rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Bye.”
“Have a good time,” Rob called.
Have a good time? Whose fucking side was he on? Wait, was I a side to be on? Was I competing for Truly?
Truly headed out with a wave, and I finished off my beer.
“Jesus, you drank that fast,” Rob said as I stood and headed over to the fridge for another.
“Thirsty I guess.” I knocked the fridge door shut with my elbow and skulked back to the sofa. “So, who’s Truly going out with tonight?”
I looked up when he didn’t answer.
“No idea,” Rob replied. “Why do you care?”
I sighed and tilted my head back against the cushion. “Just curious, I guess.” The thought of her being with someone else tonight, letting someone else touch her, churned in my stomach.
“So she’s not dating someone regularly?” I asked.
“Is this you being just curious?”
“Fuck off, Rob.”
Rob sighed and put down his beer. “Look, I don’t think she’s dating anyone regularly. I know Abi bugs her about it, so I think I’d know if she was seeing any
one seriously. I do know tonight is a first date.”
A sense of relief settled in my gut. A new guy. No one who knew her like I did. Someone who’d never kissed her. But that might change tonight. If she liked the guy.
“You can’t say you’re not bothered and then ask me a thousand questions. Be straight with me—do you like her?”
I took the first sip of my new beer and tried to figure out how I felt. “I’ve always liked her.”
“But as friends, right?”
“I’ve always thought she was hot. And . . .” We’d had some kind of connection, hadn’t we? That’s why we’d become friends. Closer than I was with most people. She made me laugh, stood up to me, listened to me. She was so fucking fascinating I could listen to everything she had to say on a loop.
Rob flipped the channels, pausing at women’s hockey. “Right.” He was clearly expecting a better response, but I wasn’t sure I had one.
“I don’t know. I didn’t want her to be one of those women I used to fuck, you know?”
“One of your three-month cycle women. Abigail would have your bollocks.”
Perhaps it was because women got more serious around two to three months, and after that something shifted. Maybe I got bored. Or everything became a bit too comfortable. I had no idea, but no one ever made it past three months, and I didn’t want to ruin my friendship with Truly and then not have her in my life.
“Truly’s great,” Rob said, eyes pinned to the television.
I knew that. There was nothing I didn’t like about her. “She is.”
“If you decide to go there, you’d have to turn into a hardcore relationship guy. You wouldn’t be able to fuck it up, or I swear, Abi will ban you from this house. We’d have to break up, too.”
I chuckled, but I got it. Truly and I had kissed, shared moments, but it was nothing we couldn’t row back from. If things were to go any further, Rob was right, losing Truly wasn’t worth a three-month fling.
It was good that Truly was on a date. It just didn’t feel all that good right at this moment.
SEVENTEEN
Truly
It was the first time I’d prepared for a presentation and didn’t have a bin by my side in case I got the urge to throw up. I paged through the Artemis presentation again. It was good, even if I did say so myself. It sounded less factual than I would ordinarily approach something—more emotional. It just felt right. But I wouldn’t be comfortable with it until I found out what idea Noah had wanted to talk to me about. If he’d just sent me the email he’d promised, I could have incorporated it and practiced the changes. I was giving the presentation this afternoon. That wasn’t enough time.
I swiped the screen on my mobile. Still no response to my message asking him what the suggestion was.
“Ready?”
I jumped when Noah strode in. He’d offered to come in to do a final run-through before I went to Artemis’s offices.
“Well, I would be if you’d sent me the idea you had. It’s freaking me out that this thing isn’t finalized with only hours left.”
He frowned before taking a seat, but didn’t respond.
“Noah!”
“What?” he asked as if he hadn’t heard a word I’d said.
“When I saw you at Abigail and Rob’s on Saturday, you said you had an idea for the Artemis presentation that you wanted to talk to me about.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Saturday. How was your date?”
“It was fine. What was your idea? You said you’d email it to me.” Noah was always on his phone. I didn’t understand why he hadn’t replied to my messages.
“Fine? What does that mean? On a scale of one to ten where was it?”
Why was he talking about Saturday night when he was supposed to be helping me prepare for the presentation?
I wanted to forget about Saturday night. Seeing him just before I was going off to have dinner with another guy had been weird. It wasn’t as if anything was happening with Noah. Sure, there’d been the kiss. And the . . . situation in the changing room. But nothing since. It wasn’t as if he’d suddenly decided I was the woman for him and declared his love for me. In fact it had irritated me more than it should that he’d had almost no reaction to me going on a date at all.
So why was he so interested now?
“It was a solid seven. Now, please, can you tell me what’s wrong with this presentation?” I wasn’t sure seven was an accurate number. More like a five point two, but I figured a higher number would discourage questions.
“Seven. Okay.” He slid forward and took the presentation from me. He rested his ankle on his leg and flicked through the pages, scanning each one from top to bottom. “So seven must mean there’s going to be a second date.”
“Are you playing the big-brother card?”
He looked up at me from under his brow. “I think you know that we’d both be in jail if I was your brother. So that’s a yes to a second date?”
“Why do you care?” I asked. Part of me, a big part of me, was hoping he’d ask me not to go out on any more dates.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” he muttered and leaned forward, smacking the presentation down in front of me and pointing to page three. “There. A missing full stop.”
“Are you kidding me? A bloody full stop? That’s what you had me panicking about?”
“Grammar is important, Truly. And I always had you down as a perfectionist.”
“You’re an arsehole.” I’d already spotted the missing full stop and asked my assistant to make the changes to the copies I’d take with me. Noah needed a new job if this was the kind of thing that was making him call and message me on a Saturday.
He chuckled. “Your mouth has gotten dirtier.” He pulsed his eyebrows up, and I ignored the somersault my stomach did.
I shook my head. “Shall we do a run-through in the boardroom?” I rounded my desk.
He stood and took a step toward me, standing a little too close. “You look pretty today.” He lifted my hair behind my shoulders, exposing my neck.
“Noah?” I stepped back, and his hands fell away. He’d kissed me. That was it. It had been a moment of madness, which was over.
Abigail had been right. I needed to date instead of spending all my time thinking about Noah. I’d been there before.
“Let’s go through the presentation. I can’t afford to mess this up.”
“You know you’re going to be fine,” Noah said as he followed me out. “You’re getting so good at this stuff, you’re not going to need me soon.”
I came to an abrupt halt at the door to the boardroom. “Are you saying you don’t want to do this anymore?”
He stood so near that I could feel his breath on my cheek, and his body heat at my side. “I’m here for as long as you want me.” His voice was low and serious, and a tiny part of me I kept hidden from daylight wanted to believe he meant in my life and not just to help me with the foundation while Abigail was away.
I took a breath and opened the door. “I’m not ready for you to leave. Not yet.”
The problem was, the longer he stayed, the less likely it was that I’d ever want him to go.
Maybe it was time to admit defeat. Or at least come up with a new strategy.
EIGHTEEN
Noah
I liked making decisions, felt comfortable when I was in charge. So it felt good to be back in a suit and behind a desk.
“Is the meeting with the healthcare guys set up?” I asked my assistant. In my head I called him Earnest George, as he had a habit of nodding so hard it made me wince on behalf of his neck.
“Yes, and you have various potential investee meetings.” He pulled out a sheet of paper from his file and placed it in front of me. “In fact, I’ve printed off your calendar for next week and synched it to your phone.”
I nodded, scanning the next week of appointments. Walking away from New York and my company with nothing but fifteen million dollars hadn’t been difficult. There were fifte
en million reasons that made it easier. My challenge now was to figure out what I wanted to do next, but I was finding my feet.
“Are any of the Harbury Foundation appointments cancelable?” George asked. “It’s been difficult to fit in your flying lessons and your skydiving course.”
“No. None of them are cancelable. In fact, I’d like to set up a meeting with the clinical head at the rehab center. He or she is bound to have contacts and know a lot about what’s going on in the industry.” George nodded vigorously and noted down what I’d said. “Did you research epidural stimulation and other treatments?”
Since my accident and recovery, I’d built a wall around what had happened, relegating the memories to the depths of my mind. I hadn’t wanted to lurk down there, feeling sorry for myself. I’d wanted to move on, get the most out of life—relish the things that I’d nearly lost. But after visiting the rehab center with Abigail, seeing the state of the facilities and hearing about their fundraising goals, I found myself willing to go there again. Perhaps knowing I could help other people get through the suffering I’d endured made the experience more bearable.
George set three memos in front of me. “I’ve emailed this to you as well. The first one is just on the epidural stimulation. There’s background research, how it was developed, and the outcomes data you requested. I also included information on when and why it’s used, as well as when it’s not used.”
I flicked through the pages.
“The second report is on other cutting-edge treatments—and the third is about alternative, non-medical therapies.”
“Great,” I said flipping open the page. I’d been fascinated by the use of kung fu I’d seen at the center and wanted to see if there’d been studies about it.
George winced. “There’s actually not much scientific data in terms of outcomes and results . . . but there’s a lot of anecdotal data from people who’ve had great experiences. And it’s not just the kung fu. It’s mindfulness, visualization. Even some stuff in there about essential oils.”