Chapter 35 Sienna
THIRTY-FIVE
SIENNA
Aiden: Sienna, what are you doing today? Want to go to Disney?
Aiden: Hello?
Gavin: Maybe she’s sleeping.
Aiden: Do you want to go to Disney with me?
Gavin: No.
Brooks: LOL
Beckett: I’d go to Disney with you if I was there. Remember that. I’m the best of your brothers.
Gavin: Ass.
Brooks: You can have the best brother title. I’ll take the extra sleep.
Beckett: Sienna, call me. I want to talk to you about designing a dress for Liv for the Josie Gala.
Brooks: War said Josie is psyched. It’s a great thing you’re doing, brother.
Gavin: Agreed.
Aiden: Do you custom-make suits? I’d definitely rock a pink one to match Lex.
Aiden: Sienna?
Aiden: That’s it, I’m going looking for her.
I close out the text thread and quickly navigate to Aiden’s name in my list of contacts. I left without my phone and missed a whole slew of messages. Hopefully Aiden hasn’t sent out a search party already.
“Where the hell have you been?” he booms.
I wince. The tone is so unlike my happy-go-lucky brother.
“Sorry, I left my phone in my room.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
I don’t know how he’ll react if I admit that I spent the day with Noah, but since Ollie was with us, I can’t lie about it. With as much as he talks, I can’t imagine he’ll keep that factoid to himself. “Ollie invited me to go fishing, so I spent the day with him.”
“And Noah?” he asks, his voice full of confusion.
“I didn’t just steal his kid for the day, if that’s what you’re asking.” I huff a breath, going for annoyed when, inside, I’m squirming.
“Are you guys like, friends?”
Friends. That’s what we agreed on, but why does the word feel so wrong? “He’s my neighbor, and he’s a player on the team, and he’s Hannah’s brother—”
“I’m aware of his many roles, Sienna.”
“Okay.” I drag out the word.
“It’s just weird, I guess.”
I cringe, but I tamp down the anxiety his questioning brings. “Why is it weird? His kid asked me to hang out, and I said yes. I say yes to everyone else’s kids, so why not him?”
Aiden sighs. “Sure, whatever. What are you doing now?” he asks, blessedly moving on. “Want to come to dinner with Brooks and me? Gavin’s going out with Ezra.”
My mood sours at the mention of our GM. I really don’t like him.
But I push those thoughts aside and focus on the topic at hand. “Oh, I’m, uh, grabbing dinner with Ollie,” I stammer.
I don’t know why I leave Noah’s name out. It’s idiotic.
My brother clearly thinks so too. I can envision exactly how his brows jump to his hairline. “Just Ollie?”
“Well, no. And his dad and his…grandpas?” That’s what the little guy called them, so I roll with it. Plus, this way, there’s no implication that I know the guys.
“You’re going to a family dinner with Noah?”
“Ollie,” I correct him. “Ollie invited me, and I said yes.” Knee bouncing, I exhale loudly. “Sorry, I really have to get ready. Talk to you later?”
“Yeah, okay. Give me a call when you aren’t so busy with Ollie.” He’s teasing me now. I’ll take it over the suspicion any day.
I laugh, feeling slightly more at ease. “Will do.”
Next I message Beckett.
Me: Does Liv want me to design a dress for her, or is this one of your harebrained schemes to make me feel better?
Beckett: Liv’s been looking for a dress for a month, and she says nothing she tries on is made to fit her curves.
It’s driving me nuts. The woman seems to think there’s something wrong with HER rather than the dresses she’s looking at.
So no, this isn’t a scheme to make you feel better, though if this helps with that, then I really am a genius.
I snort. My oldest brother may be ridiculous most of the time, but he’s got a big heart.
My initial instinct was to say no, so I’m glad I asked him to clarify.
What he’s doing for Liv is sweet, and maybe it’ll be good to design something again.
It’s not a violation of the agreement because I won’t profit from it.
I worry my lip as I respond and hit Send before I can talk myself out of it.
Me: Okay. Make sure Liv is all right with it, though. If so, I’ll have some designs for her to look over when I get back.
Beckett: You’re the best.
Me: I know. You’re not so bad yourself.
Beckett: We’re Langfields. Of course we’re the best.
Chuckling, I set my phone on the nightstand. I need to focus on getting ready, but more than that, I need to prepare myself for another few hours with Noah.
I pad into the bathroom and turn on the shower. As I step back, I catch sight of my butterfly tattoo. Standing in the middle of the tile room, I survey it.
Does Noah really have one like it? He must, since Ollie is the one who mentioned it. And I’m dying to see it.
I shouldn’t be. I promised myself that I was done seeing any and all parts of that man unless they’re visible when he’s clothed.
Though there’s a voice in the back of my head, one I try my best to ignore, calling me out on my bullshit, insisting that before long, I’ll be breaking that pact.
“I never thought we’d actually find you,” says the man with a shock of white hair. “But you are just as pretty as I remember. I’m Ernie, by the way. Figure it’s been a few years. Though I am pretty unforgettable.” With a wink, Ted Danson’s lookalike leans in and kisses my cheek.
The man beside him is a little rounder, a little shorter, and bald. But he’s got the biggest smile. “And I’m Bert.”
I give them an awkward little wave. “I remember.”
We were a few minutes early, so while we waited for Bert and Ernie to arrive, Ollie pitched his summer trip idea to Noah. From what I gather, the two of them take a trip after school gets out, and this year, he wants to try horseback riding in Montana.
Bert claps Noah on the shoulder. “Woulda been nice to know we could stop checking dollar bills.” He eyes me, his lips kicked up on one side. “Six years we’ve been looking for you.”
The confession knocks the air from my lungs
Before I can recover, Ollie’s voice snaps me out of my stupor. “What are you talking about?”
Noah stands, patting his son on the shoulder. “Remember how there are grown-up things we don’t always explain? This is one of them.”
Ollie scowls. “You said it’s rude to talk about secrets and not share them.”
Noah nods, his hands on his hips. “You’re right, bud. We’re sorry.” He ruffles the little guy’s hair.
He embraces both men, exchanging words I don’t catch.
Maybe if I weren’t so thrown off by Bert’s confession, they’d register.
And by being in the presence of these men all these years later.
Noah fits so well in the world I’ve just slipped back into, with my brothers and hockey and my new career, but as I watch him interact with Bert and Ernie, I’m hurtled back to another time.
A time when Noah was not a threat to my happiness, but the source of it.
The two days where my world began and ended with him.
A world in which only the two of us existed.
That’s what made it feel so mystical, almost as if I’d made it up.
But I’d forgotten about Bert and Ernie, and if what they are saying is true, that Noah truly looked for me for years, it makes that encounter feel less like a fantasy and more like my true past. And damn, is that doing a number on my heart.
We settle at the round table so I’m flanked by Ollie and Ernie, with Bert on the other side of his friend and Noah almost directly across from me, giving me the perfect angle to study his every reaction.
Unlike the man I met years ago, this one doesn’t hide many of his thoughts.
He’s no longer guarded. He laughs openly and often, and he’s affectionate, squeezing Ollie’s shoulder, rubbing his head when he cracks a joke or makes a sarcastic comment.
And he’s kind when he has to correct the little guy when he tells Bert that if he wants to see seventy-five, he should probably reconsider the dessert.
I spend the meal laughing at stories the older men share of the time they’ve spent with Noah and Ollie over the years and sniffing back tears when I realize just how genuine the affection they all share is.
“You like this new job?” Bert asks as he digs into the berries and whipped cream the server brought out for him. He listened to Ollie and went with the healthier option.
I take a sip of my espresso while I consider how to answer. It’s not nearly as good as what the cafés in Paris serve, but it’ll do. “Honestly, this isn’t what I thought I’d be doing with my life, so transitioning hasn’t been all that natural.”
Noah frowns, worry radiating from him. I don’t know why he’s so surprised. He can’t honestly think this is what I had planned for my life. Though I suppose that since we’ve barely spoken since coming back into each other’s lives, he knows very little about me.
“What’s so unnatural about it?” Ernie asks, his tone and expression earnest, caring.
Every person at the table, including Ollie, looks at me with genuine interest and concern.
As I look from face to face, I find that being honest with them doesn’t feel so scary. “I don’t know hockey,” I admit. I set my cup down and lay my hands flat on the table. “Like, at all.”
Noah tilts his head, studying me. “But your brothers have played their entire lives.”
I shrug. “And while they did that, I was doodling designs. I didn’t think I needed to know any of the terms or how the business was run.
I was focused on my own thing.” What I don’t say is how I hate not being successful at something, that the frustration has only made the transition more difficult.
It’s better if I stay focused on the job rather than on how I feel.
As if he can hear that thought turning over in my mind, Noah gives me a gentle nod.
“Your brothers knew that when they hired you, didn’t they?” Ernie prods.
I hum. “My brothers are great. And they hired me for my business acumen, not my knowledge of the sport. But the GM, Ezra Bardot…” His name leaves a bad taste in my mouth, so I pick up my water and take a small sip. “Ezra,” I continue, “doesn’t believe I have what it takes to run the organization.”
“Ah.” Ernie lifts his chin. “So he’s a real pri—” He darts a look at Ollie and winces. “He’s a jerk.”
Ollie nods. “I don’t like him.”
Noah squeezes his son’s shoulder.
“So you need to brush up on your hockey knowledge so you can prove to him you belong,” Bert says evenly, like it makes all the sense in the world.
I blow out a breath. “I’m trying. I go to all the games. I’m studying the players’ files”—though I’ve avoided Noah’s thus far—“and I’m trying to find ways to use what I know about business to help the organization.”
“Noah can help you,” Ernie offers.
Ollie nods. “Yeah, Dad can help. He knows hockey better than anyone.”
Noah grins down at his son, his eyes shining with pride. “Thanks, bud. I wouldn’t go that far, though.”
His little guy blinks up at him. “But you’ll help her, right, Dad?”
The gorgeous man across the table looks at me, his lips tipped up on one side. “Of course. I can teach Sienna everything I know.”