Chapter Nineteen Noel
Chapter Nineteen
Noel
“Noel? That you, bub?”
I smile. It’s exactly how she greeted me when I arrived five weeks ago.
“It’s me, Lou Lou,” I call out to her, taking my shoes off. I pad through the house, unsurprised to find her sitting at the kitchen table. “What are you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” She shrugs, then lifts her coffee mug—the one I made for her that says Word’s Best Gran —to her lips. I forgot the L and was so upset over it, but she just laughed and said it made the gift even more unique than it already was. It’s the only cup I’ve ever seen her use. “The better question is, What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were staying with Parker until you had to leave.”
“I do have to leave.”
She glances up at the clock that hangs on the wall. “Oh. Well, shit. I guess it is about that time, huh?”
“I have a few minutes still.” I head to the coffeepot, grab a mug from the cabinet, and pour myself a cup. I don’t care that it’s the worst coffee ever. Right now, it’s exactly what I want—one last moment with Gran and her terrible coffee.
I settle in the seat across from her, barely hiding my grimace as I take a drink of the piping-hot java.
“So, what’s on your mind, bub?” Gran asks, pulling her pink robe tighter around her shoulders.
“Nothing.”
She flattens her lips into a straight line. “Noel Benjamin, you can’t bullshit me.”
I cough out a laugh. “All right. Fine. I’m going to miss Parker.”
She nods. “I kind of figured that.”
“And you too.”
“Well, no shit.”
I laugh again. “And I guess ... I guess I’ll miss this town too.”
“It does tend to sneak up on people. What else?”
“What else what?”
“What else is on your mind? Because I know it’s not just that.”
I pick at the floral tablecloth that Gran is always switching out for holidays and seasons. “I want to ask Parker to come with me but I’m scared she’ll say no again.”
“Would that surprise you?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.”
“She has a life here.”
“I know.” I sigh. “And I have a life back home.”
“You do.” She sips at her coffee. “Did you know your parents did the long-distance thing before they had you?”
My brows pull together. “They did?”
“Sure did. Your dad got a job offer in New York, and your mother didn’t want to leave Washington. She was going to college in Seattle.”
“Dad lived in New York?”
She nods. “For two years.”
“I’ve never . . . I didn’t know that. That’s . . .”
“A hell of a lot farther away than California?”
I swallow, understanding what she’s getting at. They made it work with much more distance between them, so why can’t Parker and I make it work too?
Because it’s still a lot to ask her to give up, and a lot to put her through. I’m not just working some job in a different state, I’m traveling all over the world, practically unreachable for days at a time, thanks to shooting schedules. It’s not just some job . Asking her to come to LA with me ... It would be throwing her into the lion’s den, and I can’t do that to her.
“I know your situation is different,” Gran says. “But I also believe your love is strong enough to withstand whatever comes your way. You two kids ...” She shakes her head with a smile. “You two have always been something together. I was heartbroken when you couldn’t make it work after you left, but I understand why. You were young. You didn’t know any better. But now ... now I think you know exactly what you want, and you’re just too scared to go after it.”
She’s not wrong. I am scared, and I know Parker is too.
“Can I confess something to you?” she asks.
“You can tell me anything, Gran.”
“I’m the reason you’re here.”
I tip my head, not following along. “What do you mean?”
“That anonymous donor? The one who wanted the theater named after you? It was me. I donated the money for the renovation.”
My jaw slackens. “No fucking way.”
“Yes fucking way.” She grins, looking smug.
And I guess she has a right to it. She fooled us all. I would have never thought in a million years that it was Gran who donated that money. I know Parker knows nothing about it, either, or she’d be having words with Gran right now.
“Why? How? Why? ” I repeat that last question because it’s that damn important.
“Why? Well, part of it was for purely selfish reasons. I missed having you here and knew you would have to return for the ceremony. How? I’m old, Noel. I have money squirreled away that you have no clue about.”
“I ...” I shake my head. “I can’t believe it.”
“I’m immensely proud of everything you’ve accomplished in your short life, bub. It astounds me every day. But your fame ... your career ... None of that matters to me. None of that changes how I feel about you or how I still see you—that little boy who looked at me with tears in his eyes at his parents’ funeral. The little boy I love. I want you to be happy. And I fully believe that Parker is a key to achieving that.”
“But she and I hadn’t talked for ten years. How did you know that we ...?”
“Because you’re you.”
She says it with such conviction, like she believes it with her entire being.
It’s almost enough to make me believe it too.
“Look, bub, I know you’re scared. I know Parker’s scared. But how will either of you know you can make it work unless you try?”
Deep down, I know she’s right. But that doesn’t change the fact that I still have to leave.
That Parker still wants to stay here.
I glance at the clock. I have just a few more minutes to spare before I need to hit the road to make it to the airport on time.
“Can you do me a favor?” I ask her.
“Anything.”
“Can you get me the information for the restoration committee?”
“Sir?”
I look up to find the flight attendant staring down at me with pinched lips.
“Did you need a refill on your drink?” she asks impatiently, making it clear this isn’t the first time she’s had to repeat this. “This is the last call.”
I had no idea she was even standing there, I was so lost in my thoughts.
I hand her my empty glass. “Yes, please. Another scotch.”
“Sure thing.” She gives me a tight smile that tells me she’d rather be anywhere else than catering to me right now.
I don’t blame her. I’d rather be anywhere else than on this plane right now too.
It’s early as fuck, and I didn’t sleep a wink last night.
How could I? It was my last night with Parker, and I wasn’t about to miss a single second of it.
Luckily, Gran’s terrible coffee kept me awake during my drive to the airport. I raced through security and made it just in time to board.
I hoped to catch a few hours of sleep, but it eludes me now.
All I can think of is Parker.
Parker and her auburn hair.
Parker and her hazel eyes.
Parker and her laugh.
Her smile. Her sense of humor. Her general badassery.
Parker, Parker, Parker.
“Sir?”
I shake myself from my stupor to find the flight attendant back, that same frustrated expression on her face.
“Sorry.” I take the scotch from her outstretched hand. “Thank you.”
She gives me another tight-lipped smile, and I don’t miss her rolling her eyes as she walks away.
Normally, I’d do something to try to fix this because it inevitably leads to a blowup on social media, but I don’t care, not today.
Not with my mind back in Washington.
I can’t believe Gran was the one who donated the money for the theater renovation to reunite Parker and me. Either she’s a genius or completely delusional.
Since I’m currently sitting on a plane, flying away from the woman I love for who knows how long, I’m going with the latter.
If Parker wanted me to stay, why didn’t she ask me to?
The thought stays there throughout the rest of the flight and even when we land.
I slide into the car Vince has waiting for me and close my eyes as the driver navigates us toward the studio.
We sit in traffic—because there’s always fucking traffic—and I do my best to try to block out the noise from all the honking horns and loud cars.
Fuck, has this city always been so noisy? Has it always been this overstimulating? Or did I just get far, far too used to the slow pace of Emerald Grove while I was there?
Almost an hour later, we pull into the studio lot, and I’m escorted inside the big gray building where Aaron is waiting for me in the equally gray lobby.
“Noel!” he chirps, rising to his feet to greet me. “You made it!”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
My words come out much harsher than I intend, but I guess that’s expected when I haven’t had any sleep or food and am running on shitty coffee and scotch.
Aaron’s brows lift, but he doesn’t comment on my demeanor. “Right. Well, we should probably go over a few things. Ensure we’re on the same page before heading in there.”
We sit, and he pops open the briefcase he was holding. He pulls out several papers, shuffling them around.
He begins going over timelines, salary, and script changes.
I nod along with all of it, not really paying attention.
I should be fucking ecstatic to be sitting here. I know at least ten other actors who would kill to be in my shoes right now.
But I can’t muster a single ounce of enthusiasm for some reason.
Maybe it’s the lack of sleep or overdoing it on the caffeine. Or maybe all the travel I had to do this morning, the traffic I had to sit in on the way over here, or these gray walls making me more and more miserable by the second.
Or maybe it’s just that I miss Parker, and I think I left half of my heart back in Washington.
“Noel?” Aaron asks. “Are you still with me?”
“Hmm?” I scratch at my scruff, which is steadily turning into a full beard. “I’m good. It’s just been a long day already.”
He frowns. “This is why Vince had you flying in yesterday so that you could be rested for today. But no. You wanted to stay in your crummy little town until the very last second.”
I grind my teeth, barely holding back all the words I want to sling at him.
It’s probably not a good idea, especially since he’s worked so hard to get me here and I’d basically be spitting right in his face.
He snaps his fingers at the employee sitting at the front desk. “You. Can we get some coffee, please?”
They roll their eyes but rise, then walk to the coffee bar near the elevators. They make a big deal out of putting the pod in the machine and pressing the start button. When it’s finished, they bring it over to us, stomping and sending the coffee sloshing out of the paper cup the whole way.
Aaron takes the coffee with a groan and then hands it to me.
“Thank you,” I tell them. “You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.” I smile, trying to ease the apparent tension my agent has created.
They give me a curt nod, then walk back to their desk.
I take a sip from the cup, not caring that its contents are hot enough to burn my mouth, and it’s good.
I hate that it’s good.
I want lousy coffee, peppermint kisses, and a town that’s too nosy for its own good.
But all I have is good coffee, a gray waiting room, and my agent, who won’t stop talking.
I’m fucking miserable.
I yank at the collar of my dress shirt, then tug my tie loose. Why the hell is it so hot in here? I rake my hand through my hair.
“Mr. Franks? Mr. Carter?” the receptionist says, saving me from Aaron droning on and on. “Mr. Plume will see you now.”
We rise from the chairs and follow them down a long corridor to a hidden second set of elevators.
We pass by a restroom, and Aaron points at it.
“You want a moment to collect yourself?”
I shake my head. “I just want to get this over with so I can sleep.”
He presses his lips together, clearly displeased with my answer, but nods anyway.
We step into the car and take it up to the thirtieth floor, where we are led down another long hallway that feeds directly into a conference room.
Aaron sticks his arm out, halting me.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” he whispers. “This is a big deal. You know that, right? They only invite people here when they’re planning to woo them. Is that something you can handle today?”
“I’m fine,” I bite out.
“Really? Because your clothes are a wrinkled mess, you smell like scotch, and you look like you’ve run your hand through your hair twenty fucking times.” He steps closer, his brows pinched together. “So I’ll ask again: Are you good?”
I fully understand what he’s asking: Can I trust you in there?
I nod. He can trust me. I don’t plan on messing this up. I flew all the way here and left Parker behind. I’m in this.
“I’m good,” I tell him.
He nods. “All right. Let’s go in there and get this deal done.”
We walk inside the conference room, and all the men at the table rise.
“Mr. Carter!” the man at the other end of the room booms, rounding the table to meet me, his hand sticking out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise, Mr. Plume.” I shake the CEO of Plume Pictures’ hand firmly, giving him my best smile. “Thank you for meeting with me today.”
“Oh, of course. Aaron and I go way back—we were old drinking buddies from our college days. When Linus”—he gestures to the man sitting next to him with thin wire glasses perched on his nose—“pitched this idea and said he wrote the script with you in mind, I knew we had to do everything we could to get you in here. It’s a good thing I had a connection with Aaron.” He releases my hand, then pats the back of my agent. “Good to see you, old pal. How have you been?”
“Good. Great. Even better now that we’re here.”
Mr. Plume laughs heartily. “Always were the straight-to-business kind, weren’t you?” He waves his hand toward the chairs. “Please, gentlemen. Have a seat.”
Aaron and I sit in two empty chairs as Mr. Plume rounds the table, giving introductions to the other men seated around us.
I nod to them all, and we get down to business.
“So, Mr. Carter. Aaron here tells me you once refused to do any superhero roles. Why the sudden change of heart?” Linus, the writer and director, asks.
“Please, Noel is fine,” I tell him. I clear my throat. “I won’t lie, I’ve never really enjoyed the superhero stuff because I find it stale. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s the same thing recycled over and over. But with your script, it felt different. The hero was complex, the villain felt authentic, and the romance aspect of it was subtle. I liked that I wasn’t waiting for the kiss at the movie’s end.”
“We were quite proud of that,” Linus says. “And I’m glad you liked my fresh take on the role. Are you worried about your character’s growth at all? Because we’re planning for a three-film saga, where he turns bad in the second film and his redemption arc will conclude in the third.”
“I’m fine with that. It shows his human side. We’re all flawed, aren’t we?”
The director smiles widely. “You get it. God, I’m so glad you get it. Please, please, please tell me you liked the script so much that you’d consider changing your stance on superhero films?” he asks hopefully.
I nod, feeling a spark of excitement despite myself. “This is a project I’d be proud to work on.”
“Excellent. We’re happy to hear that. In that case, we’re pleased to offer you a contract. Marty, you got that ready?”
“Of course. Here you are,” Marty says, sliding a paper Aaron’s way.
“Hmm. I see,” my agent says, looking it over. “But right here, line ...”
I tune them out as they all begin talking among themselves.
This part doesn’t pertain to me.
It’s all legal mumbo jumbo and details that I’ll be reminded of a million times later.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out.
Gran: It’s drunk
Gran: Damn tit
Gran: No tit
Gran: D
Gran: O
Gran: N
Gran: E
Gran: Hate this damn phone
I smile. She’s still not yet mastered the art of texting.
Gran: U know she is gonna B mad
Me: Let her be mad then.
Gran: Brave man
She can be mad all she wants. I’d rather she be mad and still think about me than forget me.
Gran: How is your meat
Gran: Meat
Gran: U know what I mean
Me: Good so far.
Gran: Proud of you
Gran: Love you
Me: Love you, too, Gran.
I look up, and Aaron is standing over Marty’s shoulder, still reviewing the contract.
I turn my attention back to my phone, my fingers hovering over the name of the person I’d kill to have next to me.
I read over the last texts we sent yesterday while I was grabbing breakfast.
Parker: If you’re walking past Fran’s, can you grab me a slice of apple coconut? Pretty please?
Me: You know I have to walk past Fran’s to get to the café. This feels like a setup.
Parker: Oh, do you? I never really thought about it.
Me: Uh-huh. Sure.
Parker: Please? I’ll be your best friend.
Me: You already are my best friend, Peter. You’re stuck with me.
Parker: I hope so.
I hope so.
At the time, I took it as playful banter and nothing else. But looking at it now ...
Now I wonder if she really does want to be stuck with me.
Because I want to be stuck with her.
I want to be stuck with her right now. Back in her bed that’s almost too small for two people. Back in her house that’s small in a cozy sort of way. Back in Emerald Grove, where everyone talks too much about other people and smiles back when you smile.
I want to be there. Full stop.
“Noel?”
I whip my head up at Aaron. He’s standing over me, holding a piece of paper in his hand.
“Care to take a look before we sign this thing?” he asks.
I take the paper as he sits, then read over their offer.
There are a lot of zeros behind that number, and while that is very appealing, the shoot time isn’t.
Six months.
And it doesn’t include reshoots.
They want to shoot all three films back-to-back.
It would mean six months away from Parker—six months of grueling work, and six months that I absolutely do not want to spend on set.
I look at Aaron because I know I’m about to do the one thing I was sure I wasn’t.
I’m going to mess this all up.
“I can’t.”
Every head swings my way, their expressions ranging from shocked to confused to furious.
“Pardon?” Mr. Plume asks.
“I can’t do this project.”
Aaron shoves to his feet. “Give me a moment with my client.”
He grabs my arm, hauling me from my chair and dragging me out to the hallway and away from the conference room.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he hisses at me. “This contract is unbelievable. You can’t turn this down. I’m not letting you.”
“I have to, Aaron. I can’t do this. It’s too much work. Too much time away ...”
“Away? Away from what? You’ve never had an issue with a schedule like this before.”
“Because I didn’t have her!” I explode.
He blinks up at me. “What are you ...” Realization dawns on him. “You met someone.”
“No. Yes. Sort of. It’s ... it’s complicated.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t believe you’re turning this down for a piece of ass.”
I take a step toward him, then another. I back him to the wall, my nose just inches from his. His eyes are wide with fear, and his breath hitches in his throat.
“Parker is not just some piece of ass. She’s everything to me. And I am not walking away from her again.”
Aaron swallows. “Are you good?”
I back away. “I’m good.”
He pushes off the wall, straightening his jacket. “I’m not asking you to walk away from anyone. I’m asking you to give this a shot.”
“It’s six months, Aaron. At minimum . Do you want to take six months away from your family?”
“I ... Well, no. Not particularly.”
“Then how can you ask me to do it?”
“It’s a huge opportunity, Noel.”
“I know that!” I yell. “I fucking know. But I can’t. I can’t commit when I ...”
I can’t commit when I left my whole heart back in Washington.
Before signing anything, I have to figure out what’s happening with me and Parker. If there’s a chance for us to work, I want to take it before I sign away six months of my life.
“I’m sorry, Aaron. I am. But I have to go.”
I turn on my heel.
“Go?” he calls to my retreating back. “Go where?”
I ignore him.
“Noel?”
I press the button for the elevators.
“Don’t walk out,” he warns. “I mean it.”
I step into the elevator.
“Noel!” he yells just as the doors close.
I know I just screwed up. I know I probably just cost myself the biggest deal of my career. I know it’s likely the most foolish thing I’ve ever done, but I don’t care.
I’m going back to Emerald Grove.
And I’m going back for Parker.