Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Chase
I bite my lip to tamp down my amusement at Noah’s immediate outrage.
It’s not funny, not really.
But it is kind of ridiculous.
“Of course you can,” I tell him, doing my damndest to keep my voice even and calm.
“I really, really can’t,” he insists.
Right here on the deck of the yacht, I haven’t even had the pleasure of properly showing off and he looks like he’s ready to revolt.
Good thing the lines are dropped just now by the crew.
I smirk to myself and take one, very deliberate, step forward.
“You can, and you will. You need time off, sweetheart. You can’t keep going on like this.”
“You don’t get to decide that,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “I choose what I can or cannot do. What I can or cannot sustain.”
“You’re right,” I murmur, pausing to let that sink in. “But if I were the one who passed out from exhaustion in front of you, I wonder what you would do, what you’d think of me if I thought that’s the way I have to live my life.”
Though he tries to keep that righteous indignation in place, I know that hits home.
“I really am only doing this because I care about you,” I tell him plainly.
That seems to be a big mistake.
“If you cared about me, you’d understand how important my work is for me,” he says. Borderline shouts, actually.
“I do know that,” I throw back, unable to keep my tone level any longer. “Of course I know that, Noah.”
“I’m not like you, you know?” He throws his arms up.
There’s no borderline anymore, we’re officially having a screaming match while the crew try to pretend they’re not listening, while they stow away the buoys and lines, while the pier gets farther and farther away.
“I’m not established, I still have a long way to go, and spending a week lounging around isn’t something I can afford. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get off this damn boat now.”
“Good luck with that,” I say, my tone harder than before, but I can’t seem to keep my cool anymore. “You’ll have a long way to swim,” I point out, and gesture behind him.
The look on his face when he sees we’re a good thirty yards away from the docks is priceless, and I’d probably laugh at any other point in time.
“Tell them to turn this thing around,” he demands when he whirls back around.
“No.”
“No?” he shouts. “You can’t keep me prisoner.”
“Of course I’m not keeping you prisoner, Noah.” I sigh and rub a hand down my face. “If you want to go back after we’ve had an actual, logical conversation, then of course I’ll take you back.”
“There’s nothing logical about this!” he screams now, and I know I have to slow things down or he might actually jump ship and swim back.
“Look, Noah. The way you’re going about establishing yourself, is only going to lead to an early grave. You passed out last night, for fuck’s sake!”
I pause, to take a breath, to be able to speak clearly and compassionately again. The fear that I might not get through to him wants to close up my throat, but I swallow hard and move forward.
“I barely had time to catch you before you hit the ground. I didn’t even realize you were falling and then you were just unconscious.
You could’ve seriously hurt yourself. What if you’d been on the Tube on your way home?
Or alone at the office, huh? What kind of damage do you think you could’ve done to yourself? ”
He doesn’t have a comeback for that, he just turns and looks at the water behind us.
I take one more—tentative—step forward and lower my voice even more.
“I know your agency is very important to you, as it should be. It’s probably the most important thing right now.”
“That’s right,” he says with a clipped tone and a sharp nod, clearly getting some of his indignant air back, but I don’t let that deter me.
“And I’m not saying it shouldn’t be near the top of your list of priorities, but it can’t go above your health. You have to look out for yourself if you ever want to enjoy the fruits of your labor, sweetheart.”
He looks at me again at that, and a new tightness around his eyes is the only indication that he’s back in fighting mode, but this time there’s something different in his eyes.
“There will be no fruits if I don’t make sure it’s a success, Chase,” he snaps, and it becomes clear then, what that tightness means .
. . He’s scared. I’m not sure of what yet, or why exactly, but knowing it means I lose all willingness to fight him.
I’ll fight that fear, but not him. “Ellington Literary has to be a success. It just has to, because the alternative is that I’m wasting everything you’ve put into it.
That I disappoint you, that I never get to be as successful as y—”
He doesn’t have to finish for both of us to know what he was about to say. With shocked, fearful eyes and a slightly open mouth, Noah freezes on the spot, and my heart breaks for him.
I have no idea what I can possibly say or do to reassure him, to explain . . . to make sure he somehow manages his expectations without being a condescending asshole.
I think he surprised himself as much as me, so I know I won’t have the right words, not right now, but I can try. I have to try.
“I didn’t know you were feeling pressured by me, sweetheart. I’m sorry, that was never my intention.”
“No, you didn’t—” He stops himself to curse under his breath and shakes his head.
He looks so lost, so disheartened, I have to reach forward, I have to . . .
But he still looks like he might fight me if I do, so I just grab his hand.
“What I wanted to do by investing in your agency is show you the potential I believe you have. I wanted to make sure you had the right space to find out just how amazing you are at what you do. But Noah, sweetheart . . .” I swallow quickly before just telling myself to say it, say it and explain quickly so he doesn’t take it the wrong way.
“A literary agency could never be as successful as Knight-In, at least not in company value or annual earnings. That’s not the purpose of it, and it shouldn’t be.
We’re in two different businesses and have different objectives.
A small, boutique agency that takes care of its clients can be very successful. I believe it. I believe in you.”
He opens and closes his mouth a few times until finally settling for a deep breath.
I hold my own, waiting to hear how I’m an asshole and he never wants to talk to me again, but instead he squeezes my hand back.
“I know that,” he whispers.
Since the screaming match is done—hopefully—I lead him inside to the salon and sit us down on the wide couch that looks toward the stern of the yacht.
“I just—” He starts and stops quickly before pulling in another deep breath, then he finally looks me in the eyes again.
“I don’t want you to regret the investment.
I don’t want to disappoint you and be like, an embarrassment to your portfolio or whatever.
” He speaks quickly, half mumbling the last part.
“Noah, I knew what I was getting into by investing in a literary agency. In the projections I had made before we finalized the investment, I figured you’d maybe get to six clients in the first year .
. . but you’ve more than doubled your numbers in a single month, and gotten one of them an amazing deal with a major publishing house.
You’ve already exceeded my expectations, darling. ”
I pause to let him process that and press a kiss to his temple before continuing.
“Your version of success does not have to be like mine, for many reasons, but most of all because we’re not starting from the same spot.
First of all, I started Knight-In with the money from my trust fund, but I had a lot of help too.
Not only growing up and with my education, but my name alone got me into rooms that aren’t available to the wider public.
I’ve gotten chances that many others at my age wouldn’t have simply because of my family’s reputation.
“You are a self-made man in a way I never could be, and you’re going to have to fight battles that I never had to.
I’m glad being associated with me will help with a lot of those, but the fact is you don’t have to be as successful as me.
You’re going to be as successful as you want to be.
But I think you have to be realistic, sweetheart. ”
I can think of no other words to say, so I just stop, and breathe out in relief when Noah doesn’t look angry but pensive. After a few seconds he finally nods slowly.
“Do you really believe all that?”
“I do,” I say without hesitation. “You’re already doing amazing work, and if you can do so much in one month of almost killing yourself, then imagine what you can do in a year if you have a well-rested and fully functioning brain every workday?”
He snorts, and no other sound has ever been as amazing.
I can’t hold back anymore, I have to taste that simple, easy amusement on his lips.
He sighs into the kiss, melting into me until we’re sprawled on the couch, making out like careless teenagers.
It’s perfect.
Absolute paradise already, but then he goes ahead and makes it better.
“So, is there a bed somewhere on this huge yacht?"