12. 2
Since Hazel brought up the subject herself, it was as good a time as any to address the idea of entering a relationship with Noah while on the trip.
Plus, resolving this item on her to-do list would relieve Hanna of some of the turbulent feelings disrupting her emotional peace.
Returning the glass to the table, Hanna lifted her gaze.
“So, if Noah and I did start dating, you would not be upset?”
A broad smile split Hazel’s lips, happiness beaming from her pores.
“Upset? Hell no. You should know that by now. There is nothing I would love more. When I first met you, I knew you would be a great fit for him. You two have many things in common: your love for organization, food, and need to protect those closest to you. But you also have qualities that Noah needs in his life, your ability to take chances and live life to the fullest. Noah’s kept himself closed off for too long, and I am beginning to suspect that you might have too.”
Knowing that Hazel thought so fondly of her caused a new prickle behind Hanna’s eyelids.
“But you hired me. You do not think it would be…wrong for me to be with Noah?”
“Not when I’ve been trying to push you together. If you were being sneaky or secretive, I would have thought differently, but it speaks well of your professionalism that you came to me even though I was vocal in my support before. Plenty of people meet at their place of employment. You can’t fight who you fall in love with, and I’ve lived long enough to know that when you find love, you need to grab hold of it with both hands and not take a moment for granted.” The wistful look on her face made Hanna wonder if Hazel was remembering her husband, Marcel, or if it was memories of another love that danced behind her steely eyes.
Her heart pounded loudly in her chest, tugging as if on one end of a string trying to pull her towards the other end.
“Don’t you think it is a little premature to call it love?”
“Is it?” Hazel tossed back with a quirk of one silver eyebrow.
“That’s for you and Noah to decide. Life is what you make of it, and it’s far too short to spend crying in hallways over a broken heart. Want to tell me about it?”
With a resigned sigh, Hanna recounted the conversation with her parents.
Hazel only interrupted with a few clarifying questions, and Hanna found herself sharing more of her personal life than she ever had with a guest. Evershams must emit some sort of truth serum, it was the only explanation why Hanna opened up to them so easily.
Although she did not share as many details as she had with Noah, Hanna talked about the pressure of growing up in a family of exceptional people, trying to find her place when she never measured up.
Moving from place to place, always forced to leave, and not being a good enough reason to stay.
“So many people needed help, and I am so proud of my parents and siblings for dedicating their lives to helping others, but I feel like I got lost in the mix. My siblings were over a decade older than me and I was expected to follow along and keep up. I know I should be grateful that I was raised in some of the most beautiful parts of the world, with dozens of the smartest, compassionate, and inspiring people helping to raise me, but all I ever felt was…”
“Alone?” Hazel’s face tightened with understanding.
“You can be surrounded by hundreds of people, but that means nothing if they do not love and support you.”
Relief and guilt waged war in Hanna’s heart.
“They do love me, I know they do. I just hoped that they would finally understand. See what I accomplished and be proud of me, not view my business as a distraction from what really matters in life.”
Setting aside her fork, Hazel leaned against the curved arm of her chair.
She regarded Hanna thoughtfully, taking in the defeated set of Hanna’s shoulders, the tight draw of tension in the corners of her mouth.
“You should be damn proud of what you created. Building a business from the ground up takes work, and you’ve put in years of effort to build your base and learn the ins and outs of the industry to create a solid plan. And as a woman, there are more than enough hurdles for you to get through without worrying about approval from people who don’t deserve it.”
If anyone knew how difficult it was, it was Hazel.
Married when it was still legal to prevent a woman from owning her own bank account, Hazel lacked access to open her business until later in life.
“Have you talked to them about how you are feeling?”
“Not specifically. Whenever I bring up the business, the conversation pivots to how worried they are about me and all the stable options I have waiting for me. I just told them that I do not want to speak to them again until they can support my choices. That’s when you found me.”
“That must have been incredibly difficult for you. For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing. Relationships are never easy, but keeping your feelings hidden only lets them fester and wound deeper. Remember that you get to decide how much of your life they are part of, and if they are smart they will work to be part of it.”
Brushing away the tears that escaped, Hanna gave Hazel a shaky smile.
Now that she placed the boundary, Hanna needed to reinforce it.
If her parents called again, Hanna knew that she needed to talk to them about how she was feeling so she could move past it.
Hopefully, it would also help her parents understand and support her better, as long as they respected her boundaries.
Rubbing her thumbs against the tension gathered in her forehead, Hanna let out a resigned laugh at her predicament.
Open communication about her feelings was shaping up to be the theme of the day.
And she needed to talk to Noah.
As they leisurely finished their breakfast and tea, Hanna started to relax.
Hazel talked about her life in Belgium before her family moved to the United States and her subsequent marriage to Marcel, a family friend.
With a full belly and warm sunshine relaxing her, Hanna asked Hazel why she was up so early and not dining with her friends.
Hazel straightened as if remembering something.
“Oh, I promised to meet Noah this morning. He has a few business meetings today with potential clients and such, and wanted to go over his pitch with me. Even though he runs the company now, I still like to keep a hand in things, and Noah indulges me, getting my opinion before any major deal.”
For someone who’s default facial expression was a frown, the man oozed sweetness.
Knowing what she did now, Hanna’s heart squeezed at the thought of him including Hazel, not only because he cared about her opinion, but also as an attempt to make up for his perceived mistakes.
Looking at Hazel now, Hanna wished Noah could see what she could.
That Hazel did not hold anything against Noah, the pride and love in her eyes making it clear that she trusted and believed in him.
Noah’s unwavering commitment and care to those he loved was obviously learned from the woman seated at the table.
Like one end of a magnet drawn toward another, Hanna saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned, instinctively drawn to the presence in the dining room doorway.
Dark hair contrasted the cream suit molded to the curves of his muscles.
An olive green shirt popped against the lighter fabric and drew focus to the crystalline quality of his eyes.
Noah looked powerful in his suit.
Not in the way that signaled he would crush anyone in his path, but that he would do anything to protect those within his inner circle.
When he saw where they were seated, Noah strode towards them, eyes darkening and scowl deepening as he tracked Hanna’s tear-stained face.
He barely glanced in Hazel’s direction as he approached the table, lowering himself to one knee so that he was face to face with Hanna.
Strong hands cradled her jaw, thumbs swiping at the now-dried tears.
“What happened?” Noah’s voice was a rasp.
“Are you hurt?”
Cupping her hands around his, Hanna leaned into his hold.
A muscle twitched in Noah’s jaw, his body tense with anticipation, poised to jump to her aid.
Knowing that if she asked for it, Noah would give whatever help she needed, reassured Hanna like the comfort of a weighted blanket.
The desire to let him help shoulder her burdens was strong, but this was not the time for Hanna to talk to him.
Not with his grandmother and who knows how many strangers watching them.
“I’ll be okay.” She squeezed his hand.
“Just a rough phone call with my parents.”
Noah peered into her eyes, watching every emotion that flickered across them, looking for signs of distress.
“Can I help? Do you want to talk about it?”
“Later. We have some other things that we should talk about too.”
Desire and what looked like hope flashed momentarily across the clear pools of his irises.
“Let’s talk now then.”
“Noah,” Hanna said and chuckled, as she sent a pointed look in Hazel’s direction.
The older woman smirked, not attempting to hide the way she watched them like they were her favorite reality tv show.
“Don’t mind me. You two have your talk.”
Mirth bolstered her spirits and Hanna gently pulled Noah’s hands away from her face to rest against his chest. “You two have to talk business and I have things to take care of for tonight.” A white lie.
Their reservation for dinner was booked months ago, but Hanna needed an excuse to freshen up and decompress before she hopped back into tour guide mode.
“Fine,” Noah grumbled, helping Hanna from her chair.
“But we will talk.”
“Later,” Hanna promised before walking out of the room.
Later ended up being the next day.
Noah’s business meetings ran late, one of the hotels he was working to secure a contract with offering to take him out for dinner and drinks after, something that Noah texted Hanna about, looking for an excuse not to go.
She laughed at his impatience, reminding him that good business was built on relationships and he had to do something to counteract his grumpy attitude.
He replied with a close up of his face, a pout pulling at his lips in a way that sent a rush of pleasure down her spine.
Hanna nearly melted on the spot.
Even stepping outside the jazz club and letting the breeze blow over her body did not cool the flush of her skin.
Hanna thought that sleep would relieve some of the need coursing through her, but her mind was so tangled up in visions of Noah that she dreamed about him.
Vivid, technicolor dreams wove seamlessly together in a full-length feature film starring Noah and his soft lips.
By the time Hanna woke, sheets twisted around her overheated body, she knew she had to relieve some of the tension before she spontaneously combust when seeing him again.
Of course, Noah ruined her attempts to douse the desire raging in her blood by showing up to breakfast the next morning with his shirtsleeves rolled up his forearms, dark hair curling against his skin.
Hanna dug her fingers into her thigh to restrain herself from moving towards him, they did not need an audience for what she wanted to do to him.
Hazel, Lillian, Mai, and Daphne greeted Noah as he grabbed a plate and headed towards the sidebar set up with light refreshments and beverages.
Given the early hour, the full kitchen was not open, and the hotel provided plates of pastries, sliced meats, and cheese for guests looking for something light to start the morning.
Today, that included their entire group, the planned visit to Sainte-Chapelle necessitated an early departure so that they could make the sunrise reservation Hanna scheduled.
It was the one time in the tour that Hanna insisted the group get up before the sun, since the unique experience of watching the first rays of sunlight spear through the stained glass was an ethereal moment that should not be missed.
Noah was the last one downstairs and there was a hint of dark shadows under his eyes.
Had he not slept well the night before?
Hanna knew he was out late for the meeting and worried that asking him to get up early was too much.
A protective urge swept over her, wanting to bundle Noah up and give him time to rest. Most days, the group had time for a midafternoon nap, and Hanna would encourage Noah to take advantage of that time.
Watching him bring back his plate and two steaming cups to the table, Hanna looked for any additional signs of strain.
Noah placed a cappuccino in front of Hazel, leaning down to kiss her cheek before moving around the other side of the table with the other cup in his hand.
Picking at the fruit on her plate, Hanna watched him greet the rest of the table as he selected a tea bag and placed it in the steaming cup of water.
“Cream and one sugar?” He placed the cup of tea in front of Hanna, surprising her.
Looking up from her plate, Hanna’s eyebrows drew together as she replied quizzically, “How did you know?”
“You make it the same way every day.” Noah shrugged as if it was nothing and not one of the most thoughtful things someone had done for her.
That noticing her preferences and saving her a trip to get a refill were insignificant.
But for Hanna, those small gestures were everything.
“How thoughtful, Noah.” Hazel took the words right out of Hanna’s mouth.
Swallowing around the thick swell of emotions currently lodged in her throat, Hanna accepted the cup from Noah, their fingers brushing with a zap of energy.
“Thank you.”
While Noah finished his food, Hanna answered questions about the history of Sainte-Chapelle from Mai and Daphne, the two most alert members of the group.
Two cups of coffee in and still only perfunctorily awake, Hazel and Lillian listened to the conversation without contributing much of their own input.
While Hanna forced her brain and body to function at full capacity no matter the hour, her preference was to sleep in and take at least an hour, and one espresso, before she wanted to deal with the world.
Compromising meant giving up the extra sleep and enjoying her espresso in her room before coming downstairs and switching to tea, a concession to her mother’s worry about how the caffeine would impact her heart.
For his part, Noah limited himself to one cup of coffee, though Hanna barely considered it coffee with the amount of milk and sugar he added in.
Sharing breakfast with Noah was quickly becoming Hanna’s favorite part of the week.
When Hazel stated that she and her friends would take breakfast together in their suite as a way to spend time together, Hanna thought nothing of it, but with each consecutive morning finding Noah alone at a table, she suspected matchmaking, not bonding time, was behind the decision.
In the solid hour of uninterrupted time together, Hanna and Noah talked about everything and nothing.
At first, the comfortable silence surprised Hanna, expecting the impulsive need to fill the silence and dazzle Noah with her expertise to take over.
Instead, the silence became an invitation for two people to lower their guards, show their truest selves, and learn to deeply understand and appreciate one another exactly as they are.
A calm comfort settled over Hanna in those moments, like she knew that there was all the time in the world to learn every facet of this man.
Hanna felt a small kernel of resentment that their morning ritual was interrupted, which was unfair because Hazel and her friends deserved Hanna’s attention just as much.
But it meant that she could not talk to Noah like they usually did.
Sighing internally, Hanna knew that she had to be patient.
There would eventually be time to speak about their potential relationship.
The promise of later could not come fast enough.
Tall pillars of stone greeted them in the gloomy morning light as Madeline pulled the car up to Sainte-Chapelle.
Hanna ushered the small group under the arched doorways, sculpted figures tracking their movement into the sacred space.
Footsteps echoed through the chapel, the limited number of visitors allowed in for this private viewing, whispering and snapping photos of the upper chapel while they waited for the sunrise.
They gravitated towards the middle of the room, surrounded by all fifteen towering windows, the muted colors dull in the grey light of pre-dawn.
Having already suggested a few viewing locations based on what her group wanted to see, Hanna watched as the four women separated to wander on their own.
They knew when and where to meet when it was time to leave, but otherwise Hanna gave them the freedom to explore on their own.
A few other guides strolled through, maintaining a steady stream of conversation with their guests that Hanna found distracting.
Places of worship or spirituality were the few locations Hanna refrained from giving a scripted tour, not wanting to detract from anyone’s connection to something so deeply personal.
Sliding her phone out of her bag, Hanna angled the camera towards the painted floor tiles with one foot placed in front of the other as if she were mid-step, thinking of the perfect caption to go with the photo.
Thank goodness for scheduled posts.
They made it easier to maintain her social media presence while on tour.
“Do you have a secret job selling photos of your feet online?”
Laughing loudly would definitely not be appropriate and Hanna placed a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound that bubbled up her throat.
Noah was full of unexpected comments and it delighted her.
It was impossible to look at the mischievous twinkle in his eye and maintain a straight face, so Hanna turned her head to catch her breath.
Once her laughter was under control, Hanna gave him what she hoped was a flirtatious wink.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He returned her wink with one of his own, managing to look sexy and dorky at the same time.
“Of course. I want to know everything about you. Especially if I need to be jealous that other people are paying to see your feet.”
“You have a thing for feet you need to tell me about?”
Noah’s smile flashed bright in the space.
“No.” He gave her a heated look.
“But I have a thing for you.”
Liquid heat melted Hanna from head to the very feet that started this conversation.
A conversation that was slowly spiraling out of her control.
“So.” Noah leaned over to look at her phone.
“Why are you taking photos of your feet?”
“Because it's the opposite of what everyone else takes a photo of here. Obviously, looking up gives you a stunning view, but I want to remind people to pause and look at what is right in front of them. Millions of people walk across these floors every year, bringing their hopes and prayers, seeking connection to something beautiful and bigger than us, guided by the history of people who walked these floors before us. The steps we take in life determine where we go, who we become, the places we visit and the home we return to.”
“And where is home for you?”
With that question, Hanna did look up, contemplating the vaulted ceiling. Searching, always searching, for the answer to that question. “I don’t know,” she said softly.
Noah was silent, moving to Hanna’s side, his presence beside her like a steadfast soldier. Neither of them said anything. They did not have to. Though no part of them touched, Noah’s proximity reassured Hanna, giving her the space and support to find the answer on her own. With Noah, not knowing what came next was okay. She was used to people trying to force her into a decision, Trips Ahoy with their relentless pursuit to get her to work for them, her parents and siblings to choose a new career. But not Noah. Never Noah.
When she thought of what home meant to her, Hanna pictured a place where she felt safe, welcomed, and loved unconditionally. Somewhere she could be herself, return to after a long day, and grow in the comforting embrace of people who supported her. She may not have that now, but it no longer seemed like an impossibility.
Together, they stood side by side, watching as tourists streamed back into the center of the room as the sunrise started.
“Isn’t this view worth it?” If Hanna was a character in a romantic movie, this was the moment where she would look over at Noah and see him staring back at her. He would look at her fondly, lips lifted in a soft smile as he raised a hand to cup her face. Then, he would murmur something suitably cheesy, like “yes, it is,” while maintaining eye contact to drive home the point that watching her was better than any view.
But her life was not a Netflix holiday special. Instead, she saw him gazing at the picturesque view in front of them, eyes fixed on the first rays of sunlight piercing through the stained glass. His face was divided into swatches of color. Red over his left eye, yellow along his forehead, green over one cheek and blue over the other like an abstract painting. Lips parted in awe, Noah watched as the room filled with color. A burst of longing struck Hanna, so intense she could almost reach out and touch it, wanting to freeze this moment and keep it with her forever.
A picture would never accurately capture the reverence in his gaze and like all beautiful things, it was fleeting and over in minutes. She had seen this view hundreds of times, but it felt brand new experiencing it with Noah. Just as Hanna was about to walk away, giving Noah a moment alone, she felt something warm and soft brush against her hand. Holding her breath, Hanna remained perfectly still and waited.
There it was again, a tentative brush against her pinkie finger. Looking down, Hanna was transfixed as Noah’s fingers curled around hers, feeling the simple touch in every cell of her body. Drawing her gaze up from their joined hands, Hanna looked into Noah’s eyes.
“It is,” he whispered. “But this view might be my favorite.”