Sugarbaby

by Crystal Green

  “High school,” she said, not as enthused about my answers now. “How long ago was that?”

  “Mom,” Noah said.

  She batted her eyelashes. “I’m only curious.”

  “You’re always curious.” Noah smiled at me. “Jadyn’s like that, too, though. Questions and more questions.”

  “I only enjoy meeting Noah’s friends.” Her voice had a slight tremor to it. “And you seem like a nice friend, Jadyn. I like when they’re nice.”

  Oh, yes, I’m very sweet. You should’ve seen how nice when I was with him in the gym.

  A man in white strolled over with a small paper cup in one hand and a Dixie cup of water in the other. “Mrs. Reeves?”

  The orderly—because that’s what he had to be—presented both items to her, and she offered a smile to him, then elegantly took her meds.

  Exhaustion. That was how rich people and movie stars explained deeper problems, like major depressive disorder or anxiety. She’d gone through a lot with her husband’s shaming and death, then her son’s business ouster.

  Little by little, I realized the real reason Noah had brought me here. To make his mom happy, yes, but he was doing that by showing her that he was hanging out with a responsible college girl who wanted to be a doctor. He wasn’t out partying or destroying himself in the aftermath of his scandal.

  I was his safety belt during this wild ride he was on, and he wanted his mom to know that. I could see this sentiment clearly as he watched his mother, devastation lurking in his gaze.

  There was something else there, too, something haunted, and as always I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  The orderly left us after Mrs. Reeves thanked him, then dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a fingertip. “I’m so happy you returned me here, Noah. That place in Miami was awful, just awful.”

  Miami? Had Noah been there to relocate her to a new home? He hadn’t just been jet-setting and partying all over the U.S.?

  “Anything for you,” Noah said, reaching over to take one of her hands in his.

  My heart stretched at the way he looked at her, so caring, so worried. But I also saw the darkness tapping at him as if wanting a way back in.

  “Your father would’ve been very proud of how you’re taking care of me,” she said. “His other sons and his brothers killed him, and I’ll never forgive that.”

  Noah glanced at me, as if he wished his mom wouldn’t talk this much, but I was his “friend.” I was part of the crew now, I guessed. In a faux way.

  “They thought they were doing what was best for the company,” Noah said. “I told you Thomas is already having a change of heart.”

  “All of them,” she said on a bitter note, “are misguided, even Thomas. And that’s a kind way of putting it.”

  She huffed out a shaky breath, and Noah squeezed her hand, his voice softening.

  “Mom, it’s okay. It’s going to be all right. I’m taking care of everything.”

  As he kept holding her, she nodded, pressing her lips together as if she were fighting her emotions. My sympathies gathered, unfolding in my chest as mother and son looked at each other, two survivors who were doing their best.

  I glanced at Simmons, but he was watching the ground, probably used to this scene.

  I heard Mrs. Reeves take in a deep breath, sighing. When I looked back to her, Noah was still anchoring her.

  After a few more moments, she looked at me, sending me a smile as if we hadn’t experienced an intermission. “I would love to hear about your life in Texas, Jadyn. What was the name of your hometown again?”

  “Aidan Falls,” I said, relieved that things were back on track.

  Doing my best to make her happy.

  ***

  I spent the next couple of hours chatting with Catherine over the tea service an orderly brought out. She asked me about my deceased parents and how my great-uncle had taken over my care, asked me about my ambitions. She didn’t seem to want to talk about herself or her family now—once her emotional moment had passed she’d shut that down—and I had the feeling she liked hearing stories about other people. She enjoyed being around them, and at the very least, she told me that this was why she preferred being at this home, with others, instead of having private care in her own residence.

  Meanwhile, Noah received a call, and he left us, keeping to the borders of the lawn, stalking it while I tried to keep Catherine’s attention from him. Whatever he was hearing on the other end of the line wasn’t good.

  When the croquet players invited her to join them for a late lunch, we said our good-byes. She hugged me and told me she hoped she would see me again.

  Yes, I said, I hoped so, too. But privately I didn’t think the odds were good.

  As she went inside with her friends, waving a cheery farewell, Simmons stood by my side.

  “Well done,” he said.

  “She’s great. I’m glad Noah wanted to introduce me.”

  Simmons headed me off before the questions could come. “Theo’s waiting if you’d like to take the car and go shopping.”

  I eyed Noah, who was stiffly shaking his head on that phone on the other side of the lawn. “I might be the only female on earth who doesn’t enjoy shopping that much.”

  Simmons seemed taken aback. “Are there more like you in Texas?”

  “Probably. Gee, Simmons, it almost sounds like you have girlfriends who spend their time boosting the economy with their own sprees.”

  “I haven’t had a girlfriend in . . .” He caught himself, realizing who he was talking to—the temporary titillator. “It’s been a long year full of travel.”

  Sometimes I forgot Simmons was an actual person, but this proved he had feelings. I wanted to take advantage of that. “Would it be okay if I rode with Noah, wherever he’s going? I’d love to catch up with him.”

  Simmons thought about it, then nodded. “I’ll ask.”

  I pressed my advantage. “It looks like his phone call isn’t a good one. I thought you said his meeting with his brother went well.”

  “It did, and Thomas was going to approach one of their uncles, Silas, this morning. I wonder if that didn’t go as successfully as it should have.”

  “Damn.” I wished I could help, but what could I do?

  Keep him occupied, I thought. And I wouldn’t be doing it for diamonds or pretty dresses or a shopping spree. I wanted to see Noah’s dimple again.

  He’d clicked off his phone and was staring in front of him, his body tense. As we watched from a near distance, he slowly pieced himself back together, a man of steel once again as he strode over the lawn toward us. Simmons went to meet him halfway, and they spoke in such low tones that all I heard were punctuated words, contained anger.

  Even when they were done there was still a black cloud hanging over Noah as he walked toward the mansion, raising his finger to me as he entered. That was his way of telling me that he wanted to say good-bye to his mom.

  Simmons went with him, and I spent the time checking my phone. It’d buzzed a couple times with texts, and I returned a message to Carley, telling her New York was wonderful while not mentioning anything about my fake “visit” with my cousin Delroy. I had another text from Evie, who wanted to know how things were going with my so-called gift-giving god. I answered vaguely, thanks to the non-disclosure agreement.

  When Noah and Simmons returned, that cloud was still with Noah, looming, and it was as if he was trying to outrun it before it opened up and really let loose.

  Then he was standing in front of me, and I offered him a smile. When he smiled back, it seemed as if he was losing his grip and doing everything he could to keep a hold of himself.

  I didn’t mind that Simmons was standing nearby as I went to Noah, taking his hands and winding my fingers through his, putting us body to body.

  “Let’s go,” I sa
id.

  “Gladly.”

  Simmons ended up in Theo’s town car while Noah ushered me into his own. I imagined he usually took a limo everywhere, but these days, a town car was lower profile.

  The driver raised a shield between her and us, giving us privacy.

  Without warning, Noah hauled me over toward him until I was against his side like we had been at his makeshift drive-in movie, and I laid my head on his shoulder.

  “Need to get something off your chest?” I asked.

  He wound one of my curls around a finger. “It’s the same shit. Thomas is on my side, but when he talked to Silas, my uncle balked. He wants to be one-hundred-percent assured that I’ve secured the support of the majority before he announces his stance, so I’ll be calming his nerves today. Dammit, he’s always been . . .” He searched for a description.

  “Chicken,” I said.

  “Exactly. And it means more work for me.” His sigh was ragged. “And I’d entertained hope that this would go smoothly.”

  I was nearly giddy that he’d confided in me. Progress! “You’ve got everything in hand. It might not be going as quickly as you’d like, but you’ll get there.”

  “Will I?” he asked.

  It was as if he was talking about more than business now. Was he thinking of how he wanted all of me, too?

  When he slid his hand down my arm, stroking the cashmere, I thought I could be right.

  “Thank you for being there today,” he said. “My mom thinks you’re quote-unquote, ‘delightful.’”

  “That’s why you wanted me to visit her, right? To delight her?”

  “I was entertaining high hopes about that, too. She’s an introverted social butterfly, if such a thing exists. She might not be the life of the party, but she likes the sounds of laughter around her, of people talking and living. It’s only gotten more pronounced since Dad died.”

  “His accident must’ve been a shock.”

  Noah gripped my arm before his fingers loosened. “My father . . . God, what a waste. He liked his bourbon—he always did—but, dammit, he fully disappeared into that bottle once Harry Diamont started showing his true colors. I told Dad that he needed to stand up to him, but it was as if my brothers and uncles had already broken him apart and he had no will to fight back anymore.” He laughed cuttingly. “Caesar, stabbed in the back by Brutus. Dad never saw it coming, and he tried to dull the slow death with drinking. Still, when he fell down that stairway and broke his neck, I blamed Harry Diamont for it. But most of all, I blame him for what he’s done to my mom. She was always . . . sensitive. His betrayal sent her over the edge.”

  I risked a glance up at him, and when I saw the pall in his gaze, I rested my hand on his chest, half expecting to feel no heartbeat, just a still sense of loss. But there it was, a soft thud . . . thud, barely there.

  He didn’t say anything for a bit, and I didn’t push it. It wasn’t until the city loomed into view, spangling under the afternoon light, that I spoke again.

  “Your mom was in Miami with you, wasn’t she?”

  “In a home I thought she’d like. I wanted to get her out of the city, away from memories of Dad. But she hated it there, so I moved her back to this house. They’re good with her, and she loves her friends, even if she doesn’t take part in their croquet or card games.”

  “She likes watching,” I said. “She likes feeling a part of things, like your life.”

  “Thank you for making her feel that way today, Jade.”

  He pressed his lips to the top of my head, and I went dizzy. But I had to ask him about the real reason he’d brought me to meet Mom.

  “Was I supposed to be your girlfriend today?”

  He paused, then held me away from him. It was as if I’d thrown a sucker punch to his gut. “Is that what you think?”

  “I’m not sure what to think. You told me before that you’ve never had time for relationships, but I wondered if you were trying to make your mom happy by showing her that you had one—a fake one. Moms worry about their kids less if the kids have someone in their lives.”

  At least, that was how I thought it worked. I hadn’t had a mom for most of my years.

  Now I could read confusion in Noah. The deep black centers of his eyes had expanded, almost like the same holes were inside of him.

  “Jade,” he said, tucking my hair behind my ear, “do you think that all I can manage is a fake relationship?”

  “No. I’m just not sure what we do have.”

  He framed my face with his hands, his gaze intensifying. “The day you accidentally texted me, I looked up your number. I saw a picture of you, and I thought you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.”

  My head, swimming wildly now. My heart, flapping, trying to take off.

  “At first,” he said, “my curiosity overwhelmed me and, yes, I needed a distraction, something to lift my spirits. As I told you, I needed some normal, or at least what my idea of it was. And you gave it to me.”

  “I thought you needed the peace that the country could give you.”

  “Yes, but then I met you, learned about you, fell for you.”

  He leaned down, kissing me, and it was like that day in the gym when his entire heart and soul had been in his kiss.

  I’m his peace, I realized. He hadn’t been looking for a place to find it—he’d been looking for someone to bring it.

  As we held each other, lost in kisses for the rest of the ride, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Simmons had told me earlier.

  Don’t be something you’re not.

  Once again, I wished I knew what I was and wasn’t so I could follow his advice.

  16

  The rest of the day dragged, mostly because I couldn’t stop thinking about what was happening with Noah. Would his uncle Silas switch sides soon? Or would everything fall apart like a house of cards?

  Even wandering the cobblestoned streets of SoHo and then among the polished displays of Bloomingdale’s couldn’t divert my focus from Noah. To tell the truth, I couldn’t bring myself to spend the money he’d given me, anyway, even if I knew it would please him. Ever since I’d had that thought about being on his payroll, the cash seemed cheap.

  All I bought were a few absolutely ridiculous rainbow-haired troll key chains from one of those guys who hung out in Times Square, peddling his wares. One for Noah, one for Simmons, one for me. Maybe the ugly doodads would make us all laugh . . . except for Simmons. If I got a smile there, I’d be tickled.

  When I got back to the penthouse, I expected Noah to still be out and about on business, but he wasn’t. No, he was standing in the dimly lit room by the dusk-hushed window that overlooked Central Park, and the sight of him made my steps slow.

  He was wearing black pajama bottoms and nothing more except for a towel draped around his neck; he held onto the ends as he stared at the view, his usually styled hair wet and ruffled. I’d never seen him so . . . I supposed “askew” was a good word.

  It was as if he hadn’t heard me come in, so I quietly took one of my new key chains out from my purse and put my bag on a table. I eased off my long coat and laid it over a velvet-lined chair.

  “Noah?” I asked softly.

  He lowered his head, then used one end of the towel to dry his hair as he turned around. It almost seemed as if he wanted to look as if he’d been busy.

  “How was your day?” he asked in a voice so monotone that my stomach clenched. I dreaded what might’ve happened today with his uncle Silas.

  “Great,” I said carefully, moving toward a standing light, turning it on so the room would be a little brighter. I lifted up the key chain. “Lucky you—you’re now the proud owner of a freakishly hideous troll with spastic hair. I snagged three of them. Simmons is going to love his, I just know it.”

  He scanned the room, as if checking to see if I’
d brought in any packages with me. “All that time and that’s what you bought?”

  “It’s all I wanted. It’s a gift for you, Mr. Man Who Has Everything But a Troll, so accept it graciously. Who knows, though—you might even have one of these hidden somewhere.”

  Usually, Noah might’ve teased me for being reluctant about spending all the money he’d given me, but he didn’t do that. Even from here, the shadows in his gaze were ominous.

  He lifted his hand as if he wanted me to toss the troll to him, so I did. He caught it easily, inspecting it. “Thank you.”

  Still so monotone. “Don’t mention it.”

  He inspected his new prize. “Simmons is going to contact Dr. Egoyan at NYC Grace, the hospital my mother mentioned. He’s going to set you up with an internship.”

  The sudden news blew me back a step, and so did the implications of it. I didn’t live in New York, so why was Noah trying to relocate me? It was almost as if he wanted me to be around him long term, but that couldn’t be true.

  He’d relocated his mom, too, taking her to Miami and out of her beloved first group home. Was I wrong in thinking that he was moving us around like chess pieces in his personal life to compensate for not being able to do the same in business? Maybe I was just jumping to conclusions again.

  “Let’s sit down and talk about this,” I said lightly.

  He ignored my request. “Are you still bent on an internship near Aidan Falls instead?”

  “That would suit my situation better, but . . . let’s talk.”

  He walked toward a baroque table and laid down the troll. “I thought you wanted to get out of there, Jadyn.”

  My full name. It put me at a distance, put me on even higher alert.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “I can tell there’s something going on, and it’s not about an internship.”

  He was drying his hair again, avoiding my gaze, stubbornly refusing to move off the subject. “The schools you could go to here are top-notch and—”

  He stopped, noticing how I was shaking my head. He meant well by going out of his way to arrange an internship for me, but it didn’t feel right.