Chapter 6
EMERY
I was trying not to shake as I sat in the car on the way to pick up Timothy after work. Perhaps I was still in shock. Or maybe it was anger. Or maybe it was pure denial.
Charles’s words echoed in my mind. “You have six months to get married or you’ll lose your position as CEO.”
Putting a marriage stipulation on the CEO position was one of the fail-safes they’d come up with. I just never thought the board would dredge it up forty years later.
I could feel Noah’s gaze on me from the rearview mirror. Despite my better judgement, I met it. I knew he could sense that something was wrong, but I didn’t want to talk about it. If I’d kept Cadbury in the dark, I sure as heck wasn’t going to share it with my late husband’s best friend.
Some things were just for me to deal with.
I sighed and glanced out the window as Noah drove the familiar streets to Timothy’s school. My mind was swirling with thoughts, but it kept settling on the text from Bash. His invitation to come to Harmony.
Maybe that was what I needed. Time with someone who made me feel grounded to Carson. Plus, warm salty air sounded like the perfect salve for my frustration. Being there would also allow me to check on the construction of The Silver Lake Hotel—my baby—and spend time with Bash and Abigail.
My shoulders began to relax as those thoughts percolated in my brain. Leaving this city sounded like heaven.
Noah pulled in next to Timothy’s school, and I straightened.
As soon as he put the car in park, I pulled on the door release and headed into the school.
Timothy was all chatter as I followed him to the car and climbed in.
On most days, I tried to get him to slow down, but today I welcomed it, grateful for the distraction that listening to him gave me.
He told me about school, his writing test, and how Howard pushed him on the playground.
I gave him my full attention, forcing any pesky thoughts from my mind.
My job was going to have to wait until tonight.
In the silence and darkness of my room, I’d allow those frustrations to return, but not right now. Not in this moment.
The last thing I wanted to do was cook dinner, so I had Noah stop by Al’s Pie Shoppe to pick up a pepperoni pizza. It wasn’t a five-star restaurant, but it was where Carson had taken me on our second date, and it was a tradition that I’d kept up with Timothy.
The car smelled of tomato sauce and melted cheese as Noah drove us to my condo. He parked in the underground lot and followed close behind Timothy and me as we headed to the elevator.
Once inside our apartment, I set the pizza down on the counter and instructed Timothy to go wash his hands before we ate. I slipped off my heels and moved to get some plates down from the cupboard. Noah lingered near the outskirts of the kitchen like he was unsure of where to go.
“Hungry?” I asked as I pulled out the white porcelain plates that Marjory, the interior designer I’d hired after Carson died, had insisted I buy.
“They’re the latest trend,” she’d said when I side-eyed them.
Maybe in the world of social media, but not in the world of a mother with a five-year-old boy.
We were on our last few plates, but we had enough for me and Timothy…and Noah.
It was strange to think that. Especially when that third person should have been Carson.
I cleared my throat as my emotions threatened to choke me.
I blinked a few times in an effort to dispel the tears gathering on my eyelids.
I wasn’t going to cry about Carson and the life we should have had.
Not in front of Noah, and definitely not in front of Timothy.
It was my job to raise an emotionally stable son, and that required his mother to remain emotionally stable.
“I could eat.” Noah’s voice was soft and hesitant.
“I’ll set you a plate,” I said as I pulled another one down on to the stack. Then I made my way to the dining room, where I set them out—purposely avoiding the seat to the right of mine where Carson always sat, no matter where we were.
Thankfully, Timothy had more to tell me when he came back from the bathroom.
I inspected his hands and then motioned with my head for him to sit.
There wasn’t a break in conversation as he told Noah and me about the drama on the playground during recess, which then morphed into the Pokémon action figures that his friend claimed to have.
Timothy finally fizzled out after we had consumed all of the pizza and were sitting back against our seats. The air around us grew quiet as Timothy glanced from me to Noah.
I figured now was the time to tell them my plan for the next few days. “We’re going to take a trip to Harmony,” I said as I glanced from my son over to Noah and then back to my son.
Timothy drew his little eyebrows together. “Harmony?” he asked.
Noah didn’t say anything, but I could feel curiosity in his gaze.
“That’s where Uncle Bash and Aunt Abigail live.” I leaned in and gave him a big smile. “It’s by the beach.”
Timothy pumped his fist in the air. “Yes!”
I chuckled. “We’re leaving tonight, so I need you to go pack.
” I reached over the table and tousled his hair.
His excitement overpowered his desire to complain.
I was normally met with his little hand swatting me away, but he let me get a few good shakes in before he was off his chair and half running, half skipping to his room.
Now alone, I glanced over at Noah, who had his arms folded across his chest and was staring intently at the tabletop in front of him.
I wasn’t sure if he considered himself a part of the collective “we” I had used.
He didn’t have to come. In fact, I’d actually prefer it that way.
There was so much already running through my mind.
And having this semi-stranger in the middle of that wasn’t going to help me sort through things.
I hoped Noah wasn’t planning on coming along.
“We’ll be back by next week. I need to go check on the hotel”—he lifted his gaze to study me—“and Bash asked me to come help Abigail with some things.” I shrugged, hoping to appear nonchalant, like it didn’t really matter to me if he came or stayed. “I’m sure it’ll be fine if you stay behind.”
My last statement lingered in the air as Noah kept his gaze fixed on me.
I wish I knew enough about this man to read his mannerisms. Right now, his deadpan expression was hard to interpret.
I didn’t want to offend him, but I also didn’t want him to feel like he had to come.
I was certain he had a life outside of this job, even if I’d never seen him leave my side since he started.
The silence between us was deafening. I wasn’t sure what I expected him to say or how I expected him to react.
I guess I was just looking for his acknowledgment that he had no intention of joining us.
Right now, I wanted to get as far away from Torres Investments as I could.
Being around Noah just reminded me of the control the company—and the board—had over me.
“Is that what you want?” he asked.
His voice was low and deep and, for some reason, sent shivers across my skin. Embarrassment heated my cheeks. I cleared my throat, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
“Protecting me here, I understand. But do you really want to come with me to Harmony? You’ll just be following me around.” I laughed, hoping it sounded natural and not as forced as it felt. “You’ll be bored.”
Noah drew his eyebrows together. I could see his resistance in his expression. I wasn’t sure what he was stopping himself from saying, but at the same time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it.
I held up my hands in surrender. “Check with the board. I’d hate for you to get in trouble and lose your job.” I took a step toward the hallway. “I have to go pack. We need to be at the airport for takeoff at nine.”
I didn’t wait for Noah to respond. I hurried out of the dining room, down the hall, and into my room, shutting the door behind me. A soft click filled the silence as the latch engaged. Now alone, I blew out my breath as I closed my eyes and leaned against the door.
I felt so out of place. The board was demanding that I get married, my late husband’s best friend was now attached at my hip, and I was still worried for my son.
I feared I was never going to settle into this new reality.
My life was completely turned upside down after Carson’s death, and I was now on an eternal Tilt-A-Whirl. My life was never going to be my own.
I was always going to live for someone else.
I had finished packing my clothes and had moved to the toiletries when there was a soft knock on the door. I didn’t have to check to know that Noah was standing on the other side.
When I pulled the door open, he had one hand resting on the outside doorframe with his head tipped forward. He glanced up at me. I was startled by how close he was, so I took a small step back and folded my arms as I raised my eyebrows. “Hear back from the overlords?” I asked.
He pushed off the doorframe and straightened. “They want me to go with you,” he said as he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his grey sweatpants.
I pursed my lips as I slowly nodded. “I figured.”
“I’m packed and ready to go.” He nodded toward the kitchen.
I blew out my breath. “Sounds good. I’m finishing up here, and then I’ll help Timothy finish.” From the squeals and shouts coming from my son’s room, packing had become a distant memory to him.
Noah studied me for a moment before he nodded. “I’ll be waiting.”
The idea of Noah hanging out in the living room, waiting for us, seemed to ignite an urgency in me.
I finished packing my toiletries in record time.
With my luggage sitting in the hallway, I hurried into Timothy’s room.
Just as I’d suspected, he’d pulled out a bunch of pants and thrown them on his bed, but that was as far as he’d gotten.