13. Sienna
13
SIENNA
“ O f course, journalists can’t reveal their sources.”
The silence following that comment made me realize Lucy was waiting for my response. I had been staring out the window, remembering my most recent visit to Club Caramel and wondering if I should go back while my senior staff member got me up to speed on the finer points of Noah’s account.
Looking her way, I felt guilty for not giving her my full attention. “We need to keep digging,” I insisted. “Unless we learn who made these allegations, we can’t guarantee they won’t make more.”
Her mouth screwed up in an expression of uneasiness. “On the other hand, everything’s going according to plan on our end. They’re going to see that what they did had a little lasting impact. What’s in it for them, doubling down? They’ll look ridiculous if they keep this up.”
Normally, I might have agreed with her point. This client was anything but normal. “What’s more important to them? Not looking ridiculous or making sure the world hates Noah Goldsmith? ”
“We’ll keep digging,” she promised, making a note. “Otherwise, his entire social media presence has been cleaned up, and we have some nice throwback posts scheduled. The family photos he sent over, that kind of thing. Reminding the world he’s just a normal guy.”
A normal guy with a massive trust fund and a nearly billion-dollar company. So relatable. But that was the nature of the business. “Excellent. I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear about that when he comes in.” The mere thought made me quake inside.
She perked up like a freshly watered plant. “I would be more than happy to speak with him if you want.”
Why was there a sudden, stabbing sensation in my chest? Considering Lucy’s team had taken over most of the work pertaining to Noah, it made sense for her to meet with him rather than taking time from my busy schedule.
Memories of that interview in his penthouse and the flirting that took place made up my mind. “No, that’s fine. We need to catch up, anyway.” It hadn’t quite been a week since we’d faced off on Park Avenue with Jacob waiting for me inside the restaurant, and since then, Noah had kept his distance. I should’ve been glad and grateful, but then so little about our relationship went the way it should have. Rather than thank my lucky stars he was busy bothering somebody else, I was almost irked by his silence. I couldn’t win when it came to him.
Rather than let him flirt shamelessly with Lucy, I would face him like the adult I was. I had good news for him, positive developments to share. With any luck, it would be a good, short meeting, and we would leave feeling satisfied.
Amazing, the things I told myself.
It was clear when Noah entered the room a few minutes after Lucy left that this would not go how I hoped. It wasn’t that he came in guns blazing, throwing his attitude around, but quite the opposite. He was quiet, reserved, almost surprisingly polite as he greeted me. “I thought I would check out my social media accounts to get an idea of what your team has been doing,” he explained after taking a seat, arranging himself in the chair across from me. Rather than his typical suit, he wore a charcoal turtleneck snug enough to outline his muscular arms and shoulders.
Good Lord.
We were barely a minute into the meeting, and I needed a cold shower.
I swallowed hard. “I’m glad you’re happy. I understand we’re posting your family photos soon. It was nice of you to send them over and to grant the team access to your accounts.”
Lifting a thick shoulder, he said, “It’s the least I could do.”
What the hell was happening? He wouldn’t stop staring at me while wearing something halfway between a knowing smirk and a full grin—he look of a man who was in on a joke. The only problem was it was one I was unaware of.
He looked away for a second, and I looked down at myself, expecting to find a piece of food on my boobs or something like that. I even ran a quick hand under my nose, then touched the corners of my mouth in case something lingered there from breakfast.
“I wanted to talk to you about the sports clinic.” Because we were here for business, not for me to question every choice I made this morning, thanks to Noah’s strange attitude.
I knew better than to expect an apology for his bullshit tantrum last week, but this about-face made my skin crawl in an eerie way. Maybe somebody had talked sense to him, convinced him to be an adult. It occurred to me I could ask him straight-out, but I didn’t want to give him the impression I was too hung up on every little thing he said and did. It would be better to let it go and move forward.
I slid a folder across the desk. “Most of the information is in there. I made arrangements with a Boys and Girls Club in the Bronx. A group of kids ranging from ages ten to twelve will be participating. It’s a one-day event. We’ll have a handful of baseball, football, and basketball players spending time with the kids. The first half of the day will be dedicated to throwing the balls around, that sort of thing. After lunch, the guys will talk about sportsmanship, dedication, mindset, and that sort of thing. At the end of the day, you’ll present a check to the Boys and Girls Club representative and get photos with the kids.”
I was talking to a wall. He nodded slowly, and I watched his eyes move over the pages as he flipped through the information packet, but he may as well have been a robot, completely without reaction. Something about it left me jittery. “We are also looking into the source of that article if you’re still interested in that,” I ventured in a louder voice. Something had to get a reaction out of him, right?
He snickered, at least. “I’m telling you, look no further than Drake Thomas. It had to be him.” But even that didn’t carry any emotion. Noah had barely kept himself from throwing blows with Drake at the foundation gala, but now he didn’t seem to care.
It wasn’t long before I couldn’t take it anymore. “Is everything all right with you?” I blurted out. “Or is there a problem with the family? With Rose, maybe?”
This time, he reacted, his brows drawing together and his head snapping back in surprise. “Where did that come from? Everyone’s fine, as far as I know. What, do you know something I don’t?”
“Generally, yes.” And I didn’t know what was worse. The fact that I blurted it out before I knew what I was doing or his reaction. The Noah I thought I knew would have growled at me or muttered some snarky response. This Noah, the bizarro version who could be an alien replacement for all I knew, merely chuckled.
“I’ve turned over a new leaf.” Closing the folder, he left it on the desk, settling back and wearing an easygoing smirk. “I guess I have you to thank for that.”
This was all wrong.
The ugliest flashback hit me at the worst possible time. I was fifteen again, standing at my family’s apartment door while he smirked down at me. He was in on the joke, and I was about to be caught in the crossfire. Was that what was going on now? Could I afford to take a chance and assume good intentions?
I bristled, rolling my shoulders back. “You’re going to have to explain yourself because I’m not liking how this is going.”
Then I stood, crossing the room to grab something cold from the mini refrigerator in the corner. I was entirely too warm, too unsettled. And it gave me the opportunity to collect myself while he wasn’t staring into my face.
“Exactly what am I doing wrong?” he asked. “Trying to patch things up so we can have a good working relationship, and you’re still treating me like a fuckup.” Even that came off wrong since he sounded like he was making a joke. There was no growling, grunting, or grinding of teeth.
“Out with it already.” I twisted the cap on a bottle of green juice, glaring at him over my shoulder before taking a swig of the drink. I barely tasted it. It may as well have been sawdust. After swallowing, I announced, “You’re fucking with me, and I don’t like it. I also don’t have time for it.”
My heart lodged itself in my throat when he stood, unfolding his impressive body. He moved slowly toward me, his hands in his pockets and his eyes flicking over my face before skimming over my form-fitting dress. “Why does everything have to be a fight with you?” His voice was softer, deeper, and it did dangerous things to my pussy while also kicking my instincts into high gear. “I’m trying to be decent to make up for the shit I already put you through. Is that a crime?”
No, but it was all wrong. Did he forget we hadn’t just met? “You know, an apology would work just as well.”
Scoffing, he muttered, “I don’t do apologies.”
“Wow. I’m shocked.”
“Besides. What are words?” He looked me over again, pulling his hands from his pockets and making me wonder what he planned on doing with them while he stepped up close enough to give me a whiff of his toe-curling cologne. “I’m much more into action. And I think you are too.”
Sexy cologne or not, this was entirely too unnerving. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but?—”
A wicked smile flashed across his face before he touched a finger to his lips. “Shh.”
No.
It wasn’t possible.
All the air left my lungs in a rush before nausea twisted my stomach. So this was how it felt when the entire world came crashing down like cold sweat prickling on the back of my neck while I fought with all my might to deny what was in front of me.
Once again, I was back where I started—at a loss, fumbling around in my head, panicking while he stood in front of me, practically on the verge of laughter. At least, that was how it looked while I fought to keep down what I had just drank.
It was impossible.
It couldn’t be true.
Yet when I looked at him, when I truly saw him, it was painfully obvious. His height, his physique, his mouth and eyes. All of it. It was him. It had been him all along, and he knew it.
“Get out.” My voice was shaking, but I didn’t care. Fuck, he had already seen me in the most intimate, almost embarrassing moments. What difference did it make now if I showed a little emotion? “Get out of my office and never come back.”
His smile slipped, and he had the nerve to look surprised. “Wait. That’s not how this is supposed to be.”
“I don’t give a damn what you think this is supposed to be,” I spat. I could barely hear my voice over the roaring in my head.
How could he? How could he know and make a joke about it? How long had he known? The entire time? Why wouldn’t he say anything?
I didn’t have it in me to demand answers and wasn’t sure I could bear hearing them anyway. Not when I was on the verge of a screaming, sobbing fit. How could he do this? How could he take advantage of me that way? I could’ve died from shame then and there while he gaped at me in surprise.
“Do I need to call security?” I whispered, shaking, on the verge of tears.
“This isn’t right,” he insisted. “It wasn’t supposed to?—”
“I said go. Now, Noah,” I insisted, thrusting a shaking arm toward the door. “Or I will have you escorted out. Your choice.”
A range of conflicting emotions washed over him, playing across his chiseled features before those features hardened into an unreadable mask. “Right. Whatever you say.” He had the nerve to scoff as he turned away and crossed the room, shaking his head the whole way.
I barely managed to hold myself together until he was gone. Once the door closed, I staggered to my desk, leaning against it with one hand on my chest. Every breath took effort while my heart raced out of control, and the room spun around me.
It was him.
It was him all along.
I had been fantasizing about him, touching myself to the memory of him, wondering if I would ever find anyone to make me come the way he did or if I should’ve asked who he was so we could reconnect.
And even as I broke down and let the tears fall, I didn’t know why I was crying. Was it that he had found a way to make a fool of me again or that I knew this meant our last encounter was the last encounter?
Because I would never leave myself vulnerable to him again as long as I lived.