8. Edward
EDWARD
“Who is it?” I call out.
The doorknob turns, and Noelle walks in.
The sight of her in my office at this hour feels almost illicit, especially as she isn’t in her usual corporate clothes.
Instead, she’s wearing a cropped hoodie, shorts, and Converse.
It’s a casual, alluring look that feels entirely too titillating given the current state of affairs.
“Hi to you, too, I guess,” Noelle says, her voice cutting through the fog of my thoughts.
I realize I’ve been staring. I snap back to reality, reopening my already packed briefcase just to give my hands something to do. “Hi. Sorry. A little late to be out and about, no?”
She doesn’t wait for an invitation before plonking down in the visitor’s seat. “I have news that can't wait.”
“You could have called.”
She spots my phone at the corner of the desk and reaches for it. I instinctively hold my breath. There is a sudden, jarring casualness to her actions that feels dangerously close to something intimate—like a lover checking a partner's phone.
Noelle holds the device to my face, waits for the soft click of it unlocking, then turns the screen toward herself.
"Call logs," she murmurs. "Here." She flips it back to face me.
I see it. Noelle Carter (10) in bold red.
“DND?” she asks.
“DND,” I admit, offering a small, sheepish smile. I feel caught. “Why didn't you email?”
“I did. At least, on the channel we use.”
I hadn’t opened that inbox all day. My day had been a gauntlet of damage control, ensuring Vanessa knew what the fuck she is doing, especially since my brother was noticeably absent after lunch.
Additionally, I’d spent hours convincing key managers that Noelle’s departure wasn’t the start of a domino effect, though many were skeptical that the company could so effortlessly discard its best talent.
After a day of corporate firefighting, more work is hardly what I want as I settle in for the night. I’d been dreaming of a quiet house, a long, hot bath, and a stiff drink.
“It’s been a long day,” I say with a shrug.
“Hence why I came to see you.” She drops the phone back onto the desk and slides it toward me. I catch it and slip it into my briefcase. “So, what is it? Not an emergency, I hope?”
“That depends on your definition of emergency.” She sits up straight, her expression hardening. “Graham showed up at the office today.”
A scowl forms on my face. “What did he want?”
“Me.”
Heat flares up my neck, followed by a sudden spike of irritation. I swallow hard. “Well?”
“He offered me my job back. Asked that we get back together because he’d,” she makes air quotes with a look of pure loathing, “gotten it out of his system.”
“And?” I ask, heart racing.
Noelle looks disgusted by the question. “And nothing. I asked him to leave.”
I exhale audibly. “I'm sorry. Emotions tend to complicate things.”
“Right.” Her frown eases slightly. “He said you told him.”
“I told the board. They deserved to know.”
She nods slowly. “How did they take it?”
I lean back, the memory of the meeting triggering a smile on my face. “Not well. Someone tried to hit him.”
Noelle does her best to hide a smile of her own, pursing her lips and looking away.
“They weren’t pleased he dismissed their moneymaker,” I say. “They were more interested in the bottom line and the potential for a lawsuit.”
“And?”
“I told them I had it handled.”
“Do you?”
“You're here and not in Graham's arms, aren't you?”
“Touché.” She stifles a yawn. “Try and keep him away, will you?”
“Certainly.” I nod. “We're doing sensitive, important work.”
“I should head out.” She starts to stand, but I stop her with a question.
“How did you know I’d be here?”
“Educated guess.” She settles back. “I used to work late, too, occasionally. We were usually the last two in the building.”
“I didn't know that.”
"Ivory towers tend to be far from the ground." She gestures vaguely at my office.
I chuckle, then change the subject. “May I buy you dinner?”
The amusement vanishes from her face, replaced by wary surprise. “What?”
“Not in a creepy way,” I clarify, clearing my throat. “I have a proposal for you, and I’m starving.”
Four days later…
I’m pacing the length of the courtyard, my eyes glued to my watch. My driver has been gone for thirty minutes. At this rate, they won’t arrive until the gala is nearly over. I consider calling, then decide against being pushy.
Noelle hadn’t exactly been ecstatic about my proposal of attending the board’s gala as my date.
It’s an event designed to placate shareholders after the recent upheaval.
I’d framed it as a strategic move: the board would be reassured to see her there, since litigants rarely mingled with those they sued; and her showing up on his arm might just make Graham unravel.
A bonus, as far as Edward is concerned..
Noelle didn't see it that way. She said she had no interest in going to war with my brother beyond exposing his role in the J I don't need to be there as long as she’s here.
“No,” I mumble, my brain momentarily failing me.
“What was that?”
“You look amazing.”
“I know,” she says with a shrug.
“Most people say ‘Thank you.’” I chuckle and offer my arm.
“Most people don't look this good.” She takes my arm, allowing me to lead her into the ballroom.
The ballroom is breathtaking: a soaring glass dome ceiling that frames the night sky above white marble floors. Massive chandeliers hanging overhead, ushers in white tuxedos weaving between guests as a jazz band plays and couples drift slowly across the floor.
“May I have this dance?” I ask. “Or would you like a drink first?”
“I had champagne on the ride over. Drinks can wait.”
“Perfect.”
I lead her to the floor. As we move to the music, my hand resting on the small of her back, I catch her scent: a burst of fresh flowers and pineapple. She looks ravishing, and smells even better.
When I surface from my thoughts, I find her watching me. I hold her gaze, our faces mere inches apart. The music and the room and every other couple dissolves around us.
The spell of the moment is broken by a hand on mine. It’s heavy, gripping, pulling us apart.
I look down, then trace the arm back to an angry face.
“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Graham’s voice carries over the music.
The band falters and then stops. The dancers go still. Heads turn, eyes darting toward us as someone turns the house lights up.