Chapter 43 Sienna
FORTY-THREE
SIENNA
Cat: The fabric just arrived. Oh my god, you are going to be obsessed.
Me: Ah! I can’t wait to get my hands on it. Do the tailors have all the measurements?
Cat: Yes, I confirmed this morning. Stop by at lunchtime. I’ll make sure they have everything set aside for you.
Me: You are the best.
Cat: Don’t I know it. So what are the chances of me being your boss in the not-so-distant future?
Me: LOL. It’s been less than twenty-four hours. I asked for time.
Cat: I know, but you can’t blame a girl for being excited.
I’m excited too. There’s no denying it. About her job offer. About Noah. About the status of the settlement. After months and months of hell, things are looking up.
The thought of setting my hands on silk again, of turning a piece of cloth into a piece of art for someone I care about to wear, sets my blood on fire. My fingers can’t stop twitching. All I want to do is get ahold of that fabric and start sewing and cutting and creating.
I just have to hold out for two more hours.
Knee bouncing with pent-up excitement, I turn back to my computer screen and click on the email from our head of marketing regarding the bedazzled jerseys I suggested.
Then I respond to the one from Beckett about family dinner.
There are also five emails Gavin forwarded with information about the next series of games that I have to review and one from Ezra that details the new players he’s interested in drafting.
The number of players he’s researched is a little alarming. It’s like his goal is to build a new roster. With the already incredible team we have—a team headed for the finals, in fact—it’s absurd, really.
The last email he sent focused on the high cost of keeping our first line versus drafting a new one. Is the man insane? War—the team’s captain—my brother, and Noah make up the first line. Does he really think I have any interest in removing even one of them from the roster?
Noah’s agent may be demanding a contract that would make him the highest-paid winger in the NHL, but based on his stats, it’s worth considering.
Yes, his age is working against him, but the idea of him leaving Boston is unconscionable.
So I have to convince Ezra that keeping him is our best option. And I have to convince my brothers that he’s worth the investment. And I have to do it without alerting anyone to my motives. Because they aren’t the least bit professional. I can’t risk losing him again. Not when I just got him back.
My cursor is hovering over Ezra’s email when a knock sounds at my door and I find Garreth standing at the threshold.
Like always, he looks dashing in an expensive suit.
Nervous energy radiates through me. After last night, I don’t know how to act.
Fortunately, he gives me a soft smile, putting me at ease. “Have a minute?”
I stand and motion for him to come in. “How did Beth let you by without alerting me?”
He grins. “I came to see Beckett, but I saw you sitting at your desk and thought I’d pop in.”
“Oh.” I suppose that makes sense. And it’s a relief, really, to know he didn’t come to search me out specifically.
“About last night,” I say. At the same time, he murmurs, “Nice office.”
Cheeks warming, I shrug. “Thanks.”
We’re silent then, and awkwardness grows as we stare at one another, neither knowing how to move forward.
Finally, he clears his throat. “Does your brother know?”
I frown. “Does Beckett know what?”
“About Noah. Sienna’s Noah.” His lips quirk in amusement as he uses Noah’s words from last night.
I sit back, thrown by his reaction, my protective instincts flaring to life. “There’s nothing to know.”
Eyes narrowed, he tilts his head. “We dated for two years, Sienna, and you didn’t once look at me the way you look at him.”
My cheeks heat in earnest this time. I shouldn’t be surprised that he noticed. The way I feel for Noah is unlike anything I’ve ever felt for another person. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
His expression grows serious. “It’s okay.
Honestly, you showed me what I’ve been missing in life.
I’ve been so focused on repairing our family business that I didn’t even notice our relationship was missing such an integral part.
I enjoyed our time immensely; I hope you know that.
Seeing you like this, lit up and glowing, happy—despite how bad things have been for you professionally—is all I could hope for.
It’s good to see you smile. Don’t let him go. ”
I tip my head back, fighting back tears. He’s right. Despite everything, I’ve never been happier than when I’m with Noah. Even if I never got to design another piece, I think I’d still be happy. Because of him.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
With a nod, he heads for the door. Halfway there, he turns around, holding up a small package, and strides toward my desk. “I forgot to give you this last night.”
The blue paper the package is wrapped in is familiar, as are the gold stitching and the name of the bookshop imprinted on it. “I stopped at that shop you always loved after my meeting regarding your settlement. The shop owner told me you’d want this.”
My chest tightens and my breathing goes shallow. There’s no way.
Though I feel as if my soul has left my body, I manage to thank him. Once he’s gone, I turn away from the door, not wanting to share this moment with anyone, and tear into the paper.
As it flutters to the floor and the cover of the book in my hand is revealed, I gasp. The black background is one I recognize, and I’ve memorized just about every detail of the gold font and the simple design.
I run my thumb along the worn cream-colored edges of the pages and close my eyes.
For a moment, I just breathe. And when I finally work up the nerve to flip open the cover and scan the title page, my legs nearly give out.
Because there, right below the block letters, is Noah Harrison’s name, and there’s a number below it, along with a message.
One day you’ll fly back to me, butterfly, and I’ll never let you go again.