Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Noah
I turn over again, hoping a new position will work, but I know it’s no use, sleep just isn’t happening for me.
Every time I close my eyes I relive the scene in the lift in my head.
I try to give it different endings, including one where I don’t pull away and Chase kisses me instead.
I’ve indulged in that one a lot, but I know that ultimately it wouldn’t have ended well, and in any case, it’s unlikely to ever happen now.
In truth, I hadn’t really had any idea of what he was planning when he cupped my jaw.
I was just caught up in the moment. But when he leaned in close, for a second I’d wanted his lips on mine.
I still do. But while my body responded one way, my head—my rational, overthinking, and frankly unhelpful brain—inserted an image of Cordelia and her awful attempts at being seductive for Chase, and I remembered our company policy.
The worst part of all of this is that I didn’t get a chance to explain.
When the lift doors opened, Chase just walked off.
I called out after him but he didn’t turn back.
It’s this that keeps me awake, and knowing that sleep is even less likely to come now, I rise and walk into the kitchen of my apartment.
It’s not a large flat, it just has a bedroom and en-suite bathroom, a small kitchen, and a slightly larger living space.
It also has a small room I use as an office when I don’t want or need to go into the ANC offices.
But what I love about it is it’s part of an old building, so it has high ceilings and stone features along with a character that modern buildings don’t seem to possess.
So yes, in answer to Chase’s question back on Nate and Ru’s wedding day, I do love ancient things.
Books, buildings, artifacts . . . people.
Not that I’d call Chase ancient, but well preserved.
Urgh, no, that makes him sound like a relic.
But what does that matter, as that’s all messed up now.
I open the fridge door and stare into the cool lit space for far too long, not taking in anything, just looking for inspiration, a diversion. Eventually I settle on a glass of milk, and pour one out before sitting at the kitchen table.
Why did it have to get so complicated? I wanted Chase as a friend and as a client.
In my fantasies I’d wanted more, but I’ve been very careful to keep a lid on those as I can’t have Chase that way and as a client.
And after the communication we’ve had, even though he’s been busy as he explained earlier, I really strongly thought he might sign on with me as his agent.
I was very proud of myself earlier, during dinner, when I acted cool and understanding because he hadn’t been in touch.
I didn’t want to pressure him, or worse, sound desperate and needy.
But I really do want first refusal to be his agent, even though Aiden and especially Cordelia won’t be happy, as they think he should be theirs.
But then Chase went straight to the fantasy part and my brain short-circuited, not in a good way.
And now I’ve ruined the chance of being his friend and agent too.
This is a lose-lose scenario no matter how I look at it.
I pick up my phone; I really want to talk to someone about it.
I groan when I see it’s three a.m. I can’t call Nate, then.
Not that I want Nate’s advice. I know exactly what his response would be.
Dude, you should have kissed him. Only then does my brain catch up that Chase and I were the only guests tonight.
Which is very odd. I know we’re very good friends with them both, but they have other friends as well.
Did Nate plan this? Did Chase plan it and ask for me to be invited?
No, I don’t know about that, but the thought that I’ve really messed it up and that I can’t talk to him to try to make it right causes me to tremble slightly, and not in a good way.
I open up eSoothe and answer the five questions.
I perhaps should’ve done this earlier, when I went to bed.
It probably would’ve helped me sleep. Before I hit play on the playlist it’s created for me, I remember it’s not the middle of the night in the States.
It’s late, but there just might be someone I can talk to.
Carter and I became quite good friends back when we were helping Ru and Nate get together.
We’ve kept in touch over the years and it was great to see him at their wedding, where I also met Liam, his boyfriend and the brilliant mind behind the eSoothe.
Which of course I already knew about and use regularly, so I might have had a small fan moment when I met him, but he was polite enough to answer my questions, and now I understand some of the theory behind it, it’s even more awesome.
It’s eleven where Carter is. Late, but there’s still a chance he’ll be awake. I send him a quick text just in case and then start the playlist.
I’m halfway through the second song when my phone notifies me of a reply and I snatch it up.
Carter says it’s alright to call him, so I don’t waste any more time. I don’t want to keep him up any later.
“Hey, Noah.” He answers on the second ring.
“Hi, Carter. I’m sorry it’s late. I—”
“It’s fine, what can I help you with right now?” I appreciate his words, his acknowledgement that I won’t be able to rest until I’ve talked my problems through with someone.
I tell him everything in a rush without stopping.
I explain about Chase, the autobiography and possibility of him becoming my client.
About how attracted I am to him, but how I’ve been pushing all of that down because of our company policies and in truth I didn’t know how Chase felt until today. So I end with what happened tonight.
“Now he’s sure to go elsewhere to look for an agent, and I’ve even ruined our chance at being friends. It’s such a mess. I don’t know what to do.” I finish with a whine, which I’m not proud of, but it’s the middle of the night and I haven’t had any sleep yet.
“Okay, first, take a breath.” Carter instructs and I obey, drawing in a shuddery lungful of air. “Now, do it again.” He keeps talking as my breathing returns to normal, my heartbeat with it.
“So what do you want to happen? What would be your ultimate outcome?”
“For Chase to not hate me,” I whisper, and I can hear his small sigh from thousands of miles away.
“That’s not what I meant,” he says kindly. I know what he means, but my brain can’t process anything beyond just finding that out first.
“I just want a chance to explain to him.” It’s the only answer he’s getting even though I’m the one asking for help.
“Then you need to communicate with him somehow. If you’re not sure of doing that on a personal level, establish it on a professional one first.”
“What? Don’t mention what happened?”
“Yes, see if he wants to talk to you about business first. Then you can gauge his reaction and take it from there.”
I consider his suggestion for a minute. I don’t wholly like it, as I’d like to clear the air, but it might be a good way to salvage something out of the situation. And if I can get an opportunity to explain, then I will.
“Thanks, Carter. I appreciate the advice. I’ll let you get some rest now.”
“No problem, glad I could help.” I can hear him stifle a yawn.
“Say hi to Liam for me,” I say before ending the call.
I sit for a few minutes, thinking about what he said, and I know I can do that.
I’m not going to be able to sleep yet so I go into my office and start my laptop.
I’m not going to send the email, as sending it at—I glance at the clock—four in the morning is not very professional.
But I can compose it so my brain can finally rest. Once it’s done, exhaustion finally hits and I climb back into bed.
I reopen the eSoothe app and change my answers to the questions, letting the new playlist help me drift off to sleep.