Noel. - TWO WEEKS LATER.
Noel.
TWO WEEKS LATER.
“A RE YOU READY to order?” I kept my eyes on my phone, swiping mindlessly through emails, when I heard Simone’s voice.
The Coleman Group was supposed to let me know their decision by the first of the year. It was the second week of January, and I still hadn’t heard anything. Part of me was hopeful that no news was good news, but deep down in my core, I was well aware that they had elected not to bring me on as their interior designer. I really needed that job.
“I already ordered. Endless mimosas,” I murmured, and in my peripheral, I saw the menu Simone was holding lower to the table.
“Food, Noel. You can’t just drink mimosas.”
I grinned but kept my eyes on hers. “Can’t I, though?”
“You can, but it’s not smart, considering you’re a lightweight. Now, pick something, or I’ll order for you. I can’t treat you to brunch if you don’t eat.”
“Chicken and waffles.” I briefly lifted my eyes to hers, wrapped my hand around the base of my champagne flute, and took two uncouth, hefty gulps of my mimosa.
“Thank you.”
A few minutes later, she was flagging over our server and rattling off our order, my chicken and waffles, and her caprese salad with added grilled chicken. I wasn’t sure how the conversation went because an email caught my attention, or rather, the subject line.
Updated Website For Review.
I assumed it was spam because I hadn’t made any updates to my website, and the company that sent the email wasn’t one I was familiar with. It wasn’t anything these days for companies to use creative marketing, such as sending an email that says, “Your order is ready to ship,” and then for you to click the email thinking you had been hacked only to find a prompt and a link saying, “You’re a few clicks away from finding a prospective product.”
A sales tactic that often worked. I’d fallen victim a few times, getting the same email from a few of my favorite companies where I hadn’t shopped in a while, and ended up placing an order after their fake order email.
But this wasn’t that. The more I read, the more my face and body grew tense.
Greetings, Ms. Anderson.
I apologize for the delay, but considering the rush order, the site took a little longer than planned. Please take a look, and if you have any questions, let me know.
The links attached will take you to the visual of what your new site will look like. I’ve offered several versions of the template for you to choose from. Once you have selected, please forward the information I’ve requested below so that I can transfer it to your domain. The graphic team was able to pull most of what was needed from your original site. Please verify the information is up to date and valid. If you need any changes, please email them to me as soon as possible, as I’m sure you’re eager to launch your new site.
The design package Mr. Joseph purchased on your behalf is a complete design with three years of maintenance. Any changes, updates, and certifications are included. Please allow forty-eight hours for all changes or additions that you request. You can contact me personally, as I have been assigned to service your account.
Sincerely,
Spencer Lowery
Kanton.
“What the fuck,” I mumbled, and Simone leaned in to see what I was looking at.
“What’s wrong?”
I ignored her and clicked the first link. My eyes narrowed on the clean, organized layout with all my information, photos from previous work, and mockups.
“How?”
“How what, Noel? What’s wrong?”
“This . . .” I shoved the phone at her, and she took it from my hands, slowly scrolling, tapping, and moving her finger across my screen.
“This shit is the bomb, Noel. When did you get a new site?”
“I didn’t.”
“What?” She looked at me in confusion.
“I didn’t do that . . .” I pointed to my phone, and she frowned.
“But all your stuff is on here. Shit. Did someone hack you?”
“There would have to be something worth hacking for that to happen, so no.” I shook my head. “Well, maybe, but I wasn’t hacked in a bad way.”
“Girl, what the hell?” She frowned harder.
“Kanton.”
She tilted her head to the side, peering at me. She and I had discussed my time with him. Well, not everything because she didn’t get a play-by-play of that fantastic sex, but she, in fact, knew it was amazing. To her dismay, she also knew that I missed Kanton and was struggling not to pick up the phone and call, but reaching out would be crazy, right? He left. He didn’t offer any inclination that he wanted to be in touch.
“He made you a new website?”
“No, but he paid someone else to. And it comes with three layouts to choose from and a three-year site management budget based on what the email said. I have my own personal web tech who has been assigned to me.”
She lifted her eyes and grinned. “The sex was good for both of you then.”
I rolled my eyes and snatched my phone. “This isn’t about sex. He offered to help with my business before sex happened.”
“Mmhmm, but do you know how much web design and site management cost? A lot.”
“He’s rich. He can afford this, and he probably enlisted somebody he already has on his payroll, so doing this was just another layer of business for the guy.”
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
She narrowed her eyes, communicating what she meant.
Stop downplaying this man’s efforts to justify my fear of wanting something with him.
“The site is bomb.”
“ My site was bomb.” She nodded, sipping her mimosas but not responding. “You didn’t like my site?”
“I loved your site. It was very colorful and creative, which is basically very you, but . . .”
“But what?”
“It wasn’t as professional as it could have been.”
“What the hell, Simone? You’re just now telling me that?”
“I kind of already told you, but you didn’t hear me.”
“You did not .”
“I did. When you asked what I thought, I said it’s creative.”
“That’s good. I’m a creative.”
“Creative is good, but when it comes to business, you need that . . .” She pointed to my phone. “It’s still very you and creative but organized, clean, and professional.”
“Again, why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugged. “Because it was just after you had that argument with Evan where he told you designing was a hobby unworthy of a business venture. You were so determined to prove him wrong. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, and you loved the site so much.”
“You’re a shitty friend.” I narrowed my eyes as the lie left my mouth. She wasn’t a shitty friend. My feelings were hurt.
“I’m a good, supportive friend, and it wasn’t terrible, just a little chaotic. But problem solved. Kanton fixed it for you. You should fly to New York to personally thank him with your lady parts.”
I burst out laughing. “My lady parts ? Who the fuck says that other than a gynecologist.”
“Me, when I’m trying to be proper in public.”
“Please don’t ever say that again.”
“Fine, so are you going?”
“I most certainly am not.”
“Why? The dick was good, the man is fine, he obviously is interested in your career goals. Based on that and—”
“And he was just doing me a favor. He made a promise, and he’s keeping it. This . . .” I held up the phone. “. . . does not mean anything other than he’s a man of his word.”
“Can we talk some real shit for a minute?”
I knew it was coming.
She allowed me two weeks of hardcore denial.
“Yep . . .” I said nonchalantly, lifting my mimosa. I needed it for what was coming.
“You really like this guy, Noel. Why aren’t you doing anything about it?”
“Because there’s nothing to be done. The week was fun, and then it ended. He left.”
“And you let him.”
I snorted, rolling my eyes. “I didn’t let him do anything. He’s a grown man.”
“He was feeling you, and you were feeling him. Did you even consider the prospect of something more?”
“No, but neither did he.”
“Men are stupid. How many times do we have to acknowledge something that will never change? You watch enough of those dumbass movies to know the happy ending only happens when someone forces them to see what they know but refuse to acknowledge.”
“True, but that’s in a fictional world. My life is very real.”
“Okay, so then, let’s acknowledge another realism. Kanton is not Evan.”
I frowned hard, narrowing my eyes her way. “He’s nothing like that asshole. It’s disrespectful for you even to put them in the same sentence. Evan never cared about me. He liked the idea of this quirky, weird woman who he could dress up and show off. The woman who he could brag about to his friends, telling them how he made me better, like I was some fucking charity project and not already the most amazing woman he would ever have the pleasure of meeting. He made me what he wanted me to be—a clone of all the women he was fucking behind my back. But the thing is, I would never be them—an ego stroker and submissive. His fragile ego couldn’t handle my refusal to look pretty and shut up, so he got bored and found other women to occupy his time. He was too much of a coward to admit that we didn’t work. He never knew or saw me because he didn’t want to. Kanton and Evan are not the same.”
When I finished my rant, she sat quietly, smiling in victory, and I realized she set me up. Sure, thinking that Evan and Kanton were somewhat similar was a red flag. I didn’t want to be another “project” for a man who had his life together, only for him to get bored, and I would be left feeling inadequate again. I knew I wasn’t. I knew my worth, but holding firm with what I knew was sometimes hard when others kept knocking me down.
“I don’t want to travel down that road again,” I said quietly.
“You’re not. You just gave me all the reasons why this time could be different —will be different. He has money, sure, and he has his life together, but he sees you, Noel. Not once did he try to change you into something you’re not. Hell, if anything, you tried to change him .”
“Showing someone that Christmas is the most glorious holiday of all is not changing someone. It’s a duty on my part and theirs.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s you being you, and he allowed you the space to do so, and based on what you told me, he loved every minute of it and you. Isn’t that proof enough that you should at least consider something more?”
Yes.
But...
“I need to focus on my business. I can’t fail. Distractions are the last thing I need.”
“A distraction that understands how important your business is might not be such a terrible thing.”
“It’s just a website,” I argued, running out of valid points.
“He made you pancakes.”
Oooh, she’s playing dirty.
“He’s not my father.”
“God, I hope not. That would be . . . eeeh, but he is a version of the man that loves your mother. Tell me you haven’t considered the obvious. He made you pancakes, Noel.”
“He made me pancakes.” I closed my eyes and released a sigh. “He also hasn’t called or texted or—”
“He made you a website. Other than Christmas, that’s pretty much your only other love language.”
“It’s not.”
She narrowed her eyes, and I rolled mine. “Okay, it is, but that’s not the point.”
“That is very much the point. He’s trying to get your attention. At the very least, you should reach out to say thank you. Did you ever consider that maybe he’s second-guessing too? It’s not like you called or texted.”
“I don’t have a reason to.”
“Well, now, you do, but if I were you, I would take this a step further. You could get a round-trip flight to New York pretty cheap or possibly even free. I have miles.”
“And why would I use your miles? I could simply send an email in return to say thank you.”
“You could, but you won’t. Sending a simple email is not who you are. You’re a ‘grand gesture’ kinda girl. The ‘catch a flight and show up unannounced to say thank you for my website. Now, let me thank you with my lady parts’ kinda girl.”
I shot her a stern look, and she grinned. “Did you really want me to say pussy out here while in the presence of all these lovely people?”
“You just did.”
“Oh well, you get my point.” She lifted her phone. “Now, am I finding you a flight or not? You know, ever since I’ve known you, you’ve been dying to live out one of those movies.”
I have.
“Okay, fine. Find me a flight but with an open ticket just in case I get there, and we called this all wrong.”
I really wanted us to be correct and that the site was his way of asking for my attention, but . . .
“I forgot how little you travel. Open-ended tickets no longer exist. That was a ’70s to ’80s thing when there weren’t a gazillion people traveling. But I can book a business class for you. The dates are much more flexible, and some airlines don’t charge a fee for changing the dates if you book for business and not personal.”
“Problem solved then,” I muttered, knowing there was no way out of this.
I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.
“ And when this works, just remember there’s a rule about you naming your firstborn after me.”
“That is definitely not a rule.”
She lifted one shoulder into a shrug while tapping away on her phone. “Well, it is now.”
Simone came through with the plane ticket, and since she is the most amazing best friend ever, after brunch, we got mani and pedis before she drove me back to my building to pack. I would have to do something really nice for her when I could afford it.
My flight was at 1:45 the following day. I showered and polished my body, grooming enough to make myself feel presentable, tossed a couple of things in a carry-on, and then settled onto my sofa with a glass of wine. My tree was still up, far beyond its expiration date. The needles were falling off daily, but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. Doing so felt like bringing closure to the time I spent with Kanton. So, yeah, maybe I was an optimist and sad at the same time.
I quickly pulled up my photo gallery and began swiping through the photos I hadn’t been able to bring myself to look at since he left. It felt like torture revisiting something I couldn’t have, but tonight was different. Who knows, I might have new photos to add to the collection by tomorrow.
The smile that crashed my face while viewing the video of Kanton hanging lights along the mantle because I was unreasonably lusting over the way his sweats hung low on his waist, not to mention the way his shirt stretched and flexed with every movement he made . . . So, yeah, I captured the moment. A moment the universe didn’t want me to enjoy. Or maybe it was a warning that this was a horrible idea. My phone rang, and I was so annoyed that I didn’t think twice about answering the call and growling into the phone.
“What?”
“Well, hello to you too, Noel. I see much hasn’t changed.”
I rolled my eyes at Evan’s sarcastic tone. To think that voice used to bring a smile to my face . . . Now, it had two reactions: either rage or a strong desire to vomit.
“Why are you calling me?”
“You have something I need.”
Not possible.
“I’m pretty sure you dialed the wrong number. Delete me and try again.” I was about to hang up, but his following sentence halted me.
“My golf clubs are there. My very expensive clubs, and I need them.”
“They’re not. You took everything that belonged to you.”
“Not the clubs, remember? I tried to get them several times, and you were conveniently unavailable.”
Shit.
He was right.
They were here, and the reason they were here was because I didn’t want to see him. So, each time he reached out, I made an excuse about being unavailable. The guy was rich. He could buy a new set. I should have sold them.
“Right. I can leave them with—”
“Are you insane? You will not . They’re worth a lot of money. That’s a Bentley Graphite set with cart bag. I’ve promised them for an auction. They’re rare, and I don’t trust minimum-wage security guards handling my property.”
Wow!
“Lewis wouldn’t steal from you or anyone else.”
“I’m not saying he would, but he might mishandle or lose them—a risk I won’t take. I’m sure you have no intention of seeing me any more than I have of you, so we can make this as painless as possible. I’ll be in town in a few days. I can swing by and get them. In and out. You don’t have to talk to me.”
“Sorry, but I’m heading out of town.”
“I need those clubs, Noel.”
“I’m sure you do. You’ve made a promise to someone, and we both know you would like to show off.”
“Is that necessary?”
Very.
“I won’t be here, but I will tell Lewis to expect you. He can bring you up and get the clubs for you.”
“Just give me the code. I’m sure it’s changed by now. I can get them myself.”
“No. I don’t want you in my place.”
“You’re being childish.”
“And you’re being an ass. I’ll let Lewis know to expect you. It’s that or nothing.”
“Fine.”
He hung up, and I rolled my eyes. For a split second, I thought about Kanton. Evan was a different person when we met. Charming, funny, attentive . . . and then things changed. Everything I did annoyed him. My thoughts were childish. My dreams were dumb, and he tended to spend more time traveling for business than with me. He had even refused to meet my family—a clear sign that he had no intention of being a real part of my life.
But Kanton wasn’t Evan. I felt that in my soul, so I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind and finished my wine. I was catching a flight to New York, and that was that. If I were lucky, I would be taking flight with some much-needed orgasms not long after I landed.
“How was your flight?”
“Good. It pays to have friends who are willing to share their miles. They bumped me up to first class too.”
“Oh wow, that never happens to me. I’m a little jealous.”
“Good, as you should be. You’re the reason I’m here. I could have called or sent a text. I’m in a filthy city with pushy people about to surprise a man who very well may not want to see me.”
“He wants to see you too. You two are just too chicken shit to be honest about what you want, so you’re welcome.”
I grinned as I navigated out of the airport toward Rideshare. Thank goodness I didn’t check a bag. That whole scene was very chaotic and very scary. The way people were shoving each other and their luggage around to get to their bags or to get to where they were going gave me anxiety.
“What’s the plan? You going to his office or his house?”
“Not sure. Maybe I should just call him. I’m here now . . .”
“No, absolutely not. The element of surprise always wins. If you call, you’ll give yourself time to back out if he says even one thing that makes you second-guess being there.”
She knew me, and she was right.
“Office then. Besides, I don’t have his home address. The one used for the Shared Space booking was his office.”
“That won’t work. Now that I think about it, if you go to the office, he’ll have the opportunity to put you in a hotel while you’re there. If you show up at his house, he’ll have to let you stay.”
I paused my steps. “Wait. So you’re anticipating that he won’t want me to stay? What happened to you fully supporting this trip?”
“I do fully support the trip. I’m the one who gave a gentle push to get you there, but again, men are stupid, and you’re not me. I would demand what I want. You’ll dance around it.”
“More like hard shove—not gentle push. You really have no faith in me. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You are . . .” Her tone elevated. “And I’m so proud of you for going after what you want. First Design Dreams, and now, Mr. Fuck Me. Me being you .”
My smile expanded as I peered across the surrounding area, locating the Rideshare station. “I love you. You’re the best friend anyone could ever have, so thank you for this. I have to go. I need to schedule my ride and mentally wrap my head around what I’m doing.”
“You should have already done that.”
“Schedule my ride?”
“That too. You’re in New York, Noel, but also wrapping your mind around getting your man. You better not back out.”
“I won’t. I can’t. I’m here, and you’ll never let me live this down if I do back out.”
“Good. At least you know. Text me after your first round of orgasms and tell me everything. I mean it. Love you.”
She ended the call while I shook my head, happy and horrified that she was my best friend. While standing at the Rideshare station, I scrolled through my phone and found the listing for Kanton on my Shared Space app. After locating the phone number listed, I stared at the digits for what felt like forever until someone bumped into me, almost launching my phone from my hand.
He didn’t bother to say a word. Not even a simple look of sympathy. Instead, he glared at me like I was the one who had plowed into him when, clearly, I was standing still, and he had been moving. Carelessly. I tugged my carry-on closer to my side and made the call. After several rings, through which I held my breath, someone answered.
“Thank you for calling Global. How may I direct your call?”
“Uh, I’m trying to reach Kanton Joseph.”
“Hold, please.”
After a short pause, she was back.
“Mr. Joseph is in a meeting. I’ll transfer you to his office. Have a good day.”
I opened my mouth to speak but wasn’t given the chance. The phone rang again, and another voice was flowing, but not his—a female.
“Kanton Joseph’s office.”
“Hi, I’m . . . uhh. My name is Noel Anderson.”
“Yes, and?”
I frowned at her tone. It wasn’t rude, but not exactly friendly. “I’m a friend of Kanton’s, and I’m visiting—”
“ Here , in New York?”
Strange. Her voice did a thing.
“Yes, I wanted to surprise him. I was thinking about stopping by the office to see him . . .”
“He’s in a meeting.”
“Oh, well then—”
“ But he shouldn’t be long. However, he’ll be leaving immediately after. It might be best to surprise him if you met Kanton at his apartment instead of here at the office.”
Shit.
“At his apartment?”
“Yes, you have that address, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t. We haven’t seen each other in some time and . . .”
“Are you sure you’re friends and not some crazy ex from his past trying to seek revenge for crushing your heart years ago?”
She sounded amused, like she was possibly making a joke, but I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure.
“No, not a crazy ex. Just friends, that’s all. Maybe I should just come there to meet him instead. If he knows I’m coming, I’m sure he would wait.”
Or run.
“I had to ask. Do you have something to write with?”
“What?”
“I’ll give you his address so you can surprise him at his apartment. I’m sure he’d much rather you meet him there.”
“Oh, sure. Hang on. Let me put you on speaker. I can type it into my phone.”
She rattled off the address, and I typed it in notes, immediately removing the phone from speaker afterward.
“Got it. Thank you. How long do you think he’ll be?”
“It’s four now. He should be there no later than six.”
“Six?”
“Yes, six. There’s a quaint little café in his building. Why don’t you grab a bite to eat until then? That is, if you want to surprise him.”
More like an ambush.
“Okay, thank you.”
“When you’re ready to head up to his place, go straight back to the elevators on the left. You’ll have to key in a code to get to the twenty-first floor. Use 1943.”
“Got it. Thanks again.”
“You’re very welcome, Noel, and welcome to New York.”
She ended the call, and I frowned a bit. That was too easy.
Maybe she’s setting me up.
Or maybe I’m just looking for an excuse to sabotage this.
Clearing my thoughts, I keyed in the address she gave me to schedule my ride, and a few minutes later, they were pulling up.
Here goes nothing.
By 6:00, my nerves were all over the place. I sat in the café enjoying a turkey and Swiss while working on a few new designs for my site. But I kept looking up the entire time, expecting to see Kanton walk into the building.
I didn’t have a vantage point of the entrance from the café, but that didn’t stop my eyes from wandering each time I noticed a body in my peripheral. Whoever the woman was that answered his line had mentioned he’d be there no later than six, so I decided to stop stalling and do what I came here to do.
Get the guy!
Hopefully, the guy wanted to be got .
Stop it, Noel.
I cleaned my table, packed up my laptop, which I shoved into my travel tote, and dumped my trash on the way out. After navigating to the elevator and following the instructions I had been given, I stepped inside and keyed the code that would provide me with access to the twenty-first floor.
As each number illuminated, making it painfully clear that I was getting closer, my stomach knotted and tensed. My nerves were frayed, but deep down inside, a bubble of excitement blossomed. Once I stepped off the elevator, my eyes scanned the first door I could find, giving me directions for where I needed to go.
21-A.
Inhaling deeply, I knocked and waited. My anxiety kicked in, but I plastered on a smile that dropped immediately when a woman and not Kanton greeted me. A woman wearing a skimpy dress, her feet bare while she held a glass of wine in one hand and a lacy piece of lingerie in the other. She lifted a brow, taking me in, but smiled smugly the minute the question flew out of my mouth.
“Who are you?”
“Jordan. Who are you?”
Jordan. His ex.
Or maybe he lied, and she’s not his ex. Now with her here, dressed like that, sipping wine, looking very comfortable in his apartment . . .
Of course, he lied, but still...
“Is Kanton here?”
“No, but I’m guessing he should be any minute.”
“How did you get inside his apartment?” I frowned at her again, taking in her appearance. She was here, comfortable, drinking wine, and holding lingerie she was likely about to wear for him.
“With my key, and you didn’t answer my question. Who are you?”
My spine straightened, and I closed my eyes briefly, getting a grip. This was precisely why I didn’t want to come here.
“No one. Sorry to bother you.”
I turned to leave, but her voice followed. “You’re not bothering me. If you want to come in and wait—”
“No, thanks,” I muttered. This was my fault—not his. He didn’t ask me to come. I shouldn’t have, and now, I was taking my ass back home where I belonged and forgetting about Kanton Joseph.
Or at least I’m going to attempt to.
While in the back of my scheduled ride, I pulled up outgoing flights to Atlanta. There was one leaving in an hour. If I was lucky, I could be on it. If not, I would have to stay the night and catch the first flight out in the morning. Spending another minute in this city wasn’t an option, so I sent up a prayer that I could be on that flight and leave behind this city and the man who brought me here.