Chapter 30 A Grave Betrayal
The remainder of the flight is spent in our own seats, hashing out some guidelines—mostly surrounding work—and avoiding eye contact with Maggie when she comes to check on us.
Noah is happy to oblige my no nonsense at the office rule, and eases my fears about having to disclose to HR for any reason.
He promises, should this thing implode next week, we will figure our way through a working relationship and my job will be safe—no question.
Because this is such a delicate thing, feeling like an unpinned grenade in my hand, I am grateful to have some semblance of boundaries to fall back on.
He convinces me to stop for a quick bite before dropping me off at home and has the driver drop us at a bistro near his apartment so we can take his car when we’re finished.
I’m halfway through my plate of chicken carbonara before I remember the weirdness with Megan yesterday.
Curious if it was just an over reaction due to feelings I was refusing to acknowledge or something to explore further, I mull over the best way to bring it up.
Like most things, however, it plops out with no grace whatsoever.
“So, your lunch date yesterday.”
“It wasn’t a date,” Noah clips, reaching for his ice water and giving me an unamused glance.
“Whatever. That’s not why I’m bringing it up. You mentioned it was terrible.”
“It was.”
I hesitate, unsure I want to hear about it at all.
“Was it awkwardness with your ex sort of terrible, or something else?”
He frowns. “What are you getting at?”
Twirling my fork through the remaining noodles, I try to explain the exchange I had with her while he was on the phone. His face continues to sour, giving me the distinct feeling my worrying about it was valid.
“Does she have any involvement with Flourish’s contracts?”
He shakes his head and takes another bite of his salad.
“No. She did a little social media marketing for us last year, but she’s not officially on payroll. It was more a favor to me while we were involved.”
“Is she close with anyone else on the board, or in upper management?”
“We ran in the same circles.”
It’s not a confirmation or denial, and I chew on my bottom lip, trying to piece it together.
“Why?”
I shake my head. “I’m not sure. She was asking what felt like loaded questions. Like she was looking for a certain answer. And from what you’ve told me, she’s never been interested in the business practices before. She mentioned brunch with your mom. Is she close with your parents?”
Noah stiffens. “No. She and my mom were friendly while we were together, but after I ended things my mom cut ties. She never liked her much anyway.”
“And your dad?”
“Wouldn’t have seen the need to get to know her. She wasn’t useful to him.”
His comment nudges the seemingly random pieces and they start to shift into place.
My pasta loses its flavor and I take a sip of my water to try and wash it down.
How the hell am I going to skirt around this one?
I’ve seen firsthand the kind of hurt his father has the capacity for doling out.
Still, not mentioning it feels like its own brand of cruel.
“What is it?”
“It’s just a hunch. But is there any way her value to your dad might have changed after you left?
He seemed kind of bitter, and his blatant ask of me for any weakness doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence that he wouldn’t try his hand at anything.
It just feels weird, is all. Her showing up there, the casual mention of trouble with contracts. ”
Noah sits back against his chair, his face still frosty. “I suppose it’s possible, but I’m not sure . . ..” His voice trails off, as if he’s just remembered something. “Fucking hell.”
“What?”
He holds his hand up to signal the waiter that we’re finished, but then, as if he can’t wait any longer, stands and pulls his wallet out. He drops a hundred dollar bill on the table and helps me out of my chair.
“At lunch. Megan kept asking about the contracts, like she was trying to ensure everything was fine. It was weird, but after I mentioned Brad’s stay in rehab has at certain times delayed his end of things, she stopped asking. I figured she just got bored of shop talk.”
We step out into the spring afternoon, but the sun isn’t touching the chill running under my skin. Megan didn’t get bored, she figured out the information she needed. Question is, how does that information impact us now?
Back at Noah’s apartment, he makes a few phone calls to try and track all of the contracts and the various moving pieces. Everything with Scented Acres is fine and with a quick call to Spencer, we confirm that all of our inhouse work is on schedule and under budget.
I’m sitting on his black leather couch, feeling useless as he paces on the balcony. He’s on the phone with the other Flourish owner, Matt.
His apartment is exactly what I would have picked for him—clean lines and modern decor. I’m tempted to go check his sock drawer, to confirm my suspicion that he’s as tidy and organized as I think he is, but think better of it. Now is not the time.
Instead, I curl my feet underneath me and wait. It doesn’t take long. His voice grows agitated outside before he takes a deep breath, and ends the call. When he walks back in and sinks onto the couch, his shoulders are already slumped in defeat.
“God dammit,” he curses, running his hand over his face. “We’re fucked.”
“What happened?”
“The storefront we had set aside for Flourish was bought out from underneath us. The fucking landlord sold it off to a developer who’s already started converting it into apartments. I’ll give you one guess as to who sits on the board of the development company.”
He doesn’t have to confirm it. Carlisle Graves.
“Why would he do this?”
“Because he hates not owning every single person in his life.”
“I don’t understand how he could have done this. You had lunch with Megan yesterday. This is fast, even for people like your dad.”
“I’d bet good money he already had it in the works. Megan was just a fun little surprise for us after we ran out on lunch. There’s no way he would have trusted her to actually glean any information anyhow.”
“Oh.”
“Fuck,” Noah says, his head resting on the back of the couch, his face to the ceiling. “This is a disaster. The entire launch hinged on having that storefront.”
I shake my head, shifting into problem solving mode. “We’ll do a soft online launch. Get the interest and buy us some time to find a new storefront.”
“Except the contracts I signed with Tom included verbiage for the retail space. He’s expecting to see products with his farm’s name and logo on shelves in about six weeks. If we don’t have a store, we don’t have Scented Acres.”
My stomach sinks again. Everything we’ve done over the last five days, flying out to Pala, all the sweet talking, complicating our working relationship; all of it was in the name of securing this brand deal.
Without it, this was a giant waste of time and money.
Noah won’t be able to take Flourish to the next level, and I won’t have the experience I need to open Nan’s again.
Fighting the voice that is whispering ‘I told you so’ in the face of my getting carried away with Noah, I sit up, taking a deep breath in through my nose.
“No. I refuse to believe this is that far gone. Tom will understand. And if he doesn’t, then we’ll find a new space. You can’t tell me that was the only storefront available in all of Portland. We’ll figure this out.”
“It was the best space, Lottie. I searched for months—working with local real estate people to find the perfect placement. We needed the foot traffic that location offered, and the surrounding tenants hit every one of our target demographics. It was fucking perfect.”
I shift over to kneel by him on the couch. Brushing his hair back I look down at his stress-strained face.
“It might have been good, great even. But the best location is the one that ends up working for us. Besides, you didn’t have me helping you find a place.
I’m Portland through and through. I know this city better than almost anyone, and I promise we will find a new space.
Give me a month. If we can’t find a place in four weeks then we’ll worry about reassessing things with Tom. ”
Noah rolls his head over and kisses my hand. “I don’t think I would have survived this weekend without you.”
“Not to mention, I give great head,” I say, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “It’s great stress relief and I can’t say any of our coworkers would have been quite as comfortable with that part of the job.”
Noah laughs and swings his arm around, pulling me into the seat and tickling my sides. I kick my legs and he squeezes tighter as I squeal. Quieting, he looks down at me and smooths some of the hair out of my face. “No, I can’t say they would have. And it’s a shame, because I give great head too.”
I slap his chest playfully, and he grins, the serious edge gone from his eyes.
“Will you stay here with me? Tonight?”
Part of me wants to, but I bite my bottom lip and shake my head. “I can’t.”
His face falls a little but he doesn’t let it last. “I understand.”
Sitting up again, I rush to clarify. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”
“But if you did, you’d have to tell Kara.”
I nod, searching his face. “Are you mad?”
“No. I told you we could take this at whatever pace you wanted, and I meant it. You’ll tell her when you’re ready.”
Grateful for his patience, I lean forward and kiss him—the act more gentle than I’ve ever managed. As we break, he smiles.
“But will you have dinner with me? Here. Tomorrow. You can come over after work, and tell Kara I’m keeping you late at the office again.”
I sit back, making a face as if I’m considering it, even though I already know the answer.
“Only if you order Dominos.”