Eighteen
EIGHTEEN
Noble
“N oble.” Dan, the chairman of the board of directors, stood, extending his hand to me. Stout, with wiry gray hair, he studied me with piercing green eyes, a sincere smile, and added, “I’m so glad you were able to join us for dinner today.”
“Me too.” I smiled at the two men and one woman seated at the table in the Italian restaurant.
“This is John, Margo, and Scott,” Dan said, presenting the three individuals from the board of directors’ nominating committee.
I nodded and shook each of their hands. The board was diverse in every way but age. Tim had said they needed a fresh perspective. I see now that was a code word for younger .
“Thanks for taking the time to meet with us today,” John said, his skin so bronze his silver beard seemed to glow. John looked like he’d graced the covers of GQ magazine back in his heyday. I remembered my dad reading that when I was a child.
“Let’s get the waiter over so you can order. We understand you’re a busy man, and we’d love to get right down to business,” Margo said, her voice raspy, like she smoked cigarettes for breakfast every day. Margo’s jet-black hair and large black eyeglass frames gave her a hip vibe. She raised her hand. “Dawn, darling,” she said once she captured the waitress’s attention. “Noble, what would you like to drink?”
The waitress retrieved a bottle of sparkling water for me and quickly returned for our lunch orders.
“I’d love to hear more about the mission of the organization and your needs on the board,” I said, feeling good about this meeting even though it was just getting started.
Margo started with the organization’s goal to get teens adopt-ed into healthy and loving environments and their new mentorship program to help support the teens and their new families.
“As you see, we’re all—” John looked around the table and chuckled “—people of a certain age, and our board is really in need of fresh perspectives.”
“Yes,” Margo said. “We don’t want our board to age out and not have the support it needs to remain sustainable. We were very excited to hear of your interest. Tell us more about that.”
“Mentorship is something I’m passionate about. I’ve been wanting to get more involved for a while now. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for the support of my mentors—especially Tim,” I said. “As a little boy, I didn’t have much. My mother and father eventually broke up when I was in my teens, and after that, I lost her to cancer. I wasn’t adopted, but I know what it’s like to feel alone and unsupported, and I’d love to get involved with an organization that fills those gaps for young people. I can easily see myself in them and would love to help.”
Each of them smiled.
“Sounds like you’d be a great fit,” Margo said.
As we ate, the quartet filled me in on all that would be expected of me as a board member. Making and securing donations, being an ambassador for the organization and the kids. They shared some success stories and invited me to join them at the next meeting. This felt right, and I needed to plug into something meaningful. Hopefully, it would also prevent me from being bored while I looked for another job.
“I look forward to…” I paused. The words being useful came to mind, but I didn’t want to say that aloud. “Serving,” I said.
“Fantastic,” Dan said. “Look for an email with a contact form that we’ll need you to complete.”
“I look forward to working with you,” John said, standing. The others followed suit.
“I’m ready to get to work.” That was the truth. The more I listened to all the great ways the agency changed the lives of young people, the more excited I was to join.
Maybe I could even be one of those mentors they were looking for in the new program. I decided right then that I was going to make a hefty donation to the cause as soon as I got back home. Several business colleagues sat on boards of nonprofit organizations. Tim always said it was a good look. By the end of my meeting, I understood why they dedicated so much of their time to these charities. I hadn’t even attended my first meeting, and I already was moved and ready to get involved.
On the way back, I called Tim to thank him.
“Like you said, I think this will be good for me in more ways than one.”
“Good. Did they mention doing any media outreach to announce your appointment?”
“Sure did,” I said, but I felt like that no longer mattered. I just wanted to help.
“How’s everything else going? Your dad?”
I cleared my throat before answering. “Good, thanks.”
“And your beautiful friend. The one you brought to the gala? She seems nice.” Tim stretched the word nice into two syllables.
“Holland is good. Just a friend, though,” I said, despite the smile that spread at the mention of her name.
“Yeah. I dance like that with my friends too,” he joked.
I couldn’t help my laugh. I was so lost in Holland on that dance floor, I forgot we were in a public venue. “Anyway,” I said, chuckling. “I had a great call with a recruiter this week. I also set up a few lunch dates with some folks from my network. It’s time to see what’s out there.”
“That’s great news, Noble. I’m glad you’re sounding better these days. Think it might have something to do with your friend.”
It did, but I wasn’t ready to admit that to Tim.
“I gave myself enough time to sulk. It’s time to move forward and make some things happen,” I said, despite how much I still missed everything about Push. Holland made things seem not so bad. I’d forgotten what it was like to have a life outside of the job.
It was going to take time for me to get used to someone else taking the reins of my company. I hoped it wouldn’t be a tyrant who’d ruin the family-like culture we’d built. And what would happen to Ty? Would he feel comfortable staying? I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. I was feeling too good. “Gotta run, Tim. I’ll keep you posted on everything.”
“Please do. I know this isn’t easy. Trust that you will land on your feet and be in a better place than you expected.”
“Yeah.”
“Take care, Noble.”
On the way home, my thoughts volleyed between Push, Holland, Ty, and the board of directors I’d met with. I’d been out all day and hadn’t seen Holland. I found myself wondering how her day had gone. The past weeks had been hectic for both of us, and I was learning that having someone there for you and with you through challenging times softened the blows life delivered.
I pulled in front of the house and saw Holland sitting on her stoop.
“Hey!” I got out and waved, clicking my key fob to set my car alarm.
“Hi.” Holland still sounded deflated.
“Are you okay?”
Holland dragged in a breath, placed her hand on the back of her neck and rolled it, working out the kinks. “Not really.”
Without waiting for an invitation, I sat beside her on the stoop. The street light illuminated her pretty face. Holland had been crying again. Or perhaps she’d never stopped.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just needed some air.”
I took her response as code for “I’m not okay, but I’m not in the mood to talk about it.” I recognized that language.
“Have you eaten?” I asked, hoping she’d say no. That would give me an excuse to spend more time with her. I didn’t want to push and hoped she’d return to my bed soon. Before Holland, most of my intimate time with women included sex. Though the sex with her was crazy good, I craved being around her in any way I could get.
“Not hungry.” Holland offered little conversation beyond her short answers. She rested her elbows on her knees and placed her chin on her fists.
I pressed, unable to leave her looking so sad. “Want to go for a ride?”
“Rain check?”
I didn’t know what was wrong with Holland, but the pain it caused her was evident in her bloodshot eyes and the way her shoulders hung, like gravity’s pull was solely trained on her. I wanted to take her into my arms again. Maybe make love to her, slow and deep. Let her lose herself in the decadence our bodies created together so she could forget her woes. But I wanted to know what she needed from me.
Whatever bothered her wasn’t something I could offer distractions to help lift her mood. She’d closed herself off emotionally. I understood. Even without sharing, having someone be there helped. Despite the humidity, I felt the coolness emanating off her as I stood on the outside of the wall she’d erected.
“Listen,” I said. She looked up at me with tearstained cheeks. How long had she been crying? “I’m in for the rest of the night. If you need anything—and I do mean anything, I’m right here. Okay?”
Holland managed a small smile and nodded. “Thank you.”
I headed home, hating every step as I walked away, but knowing I needed to give her space.
Inside, I peeled off my clothes, damp from the humidity that robbed the air of comfort. With my mind full of Holland, I showered, wishing I could do something about the sadness that stabbed at her heart. I wanted to know what made her cry like that. Who had done it? My mood grew somber.
Stepping out of the shower, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, staring squarely at my reflection. Who had I become? My ego was tattered behind steely eyes and a hard exterior. After losing my position, I became a fraction of the person I was a few weeks before. Something had happened to that alpha dude who built an empire. The man who went after what he wanted and got it, despite all obstacles.
Displacement and imposter syndrome had bruised my confidence. I wondered why would anyone want me to address a room full of business leaders when I no longer had a business to lead? Those were the thoughts that had plagued me since the layoff.
“You built one of the largest beverage companies from scratch, that’s why.” I heaved in a deep breath as I dried my body in the steamy bathroom. That was something to forever be proud of.
I was becoming a new version of myself. Credit was partially due to Ty, Tim, and even Holland. They’d said I needed to live a little. But Holland made me remember what it was like to feel something besides the quick adrenaline shot of pride that came with work accomplishments. I still battled dark thoughts about my value, but I felt myself changing.
I rummaged through my drawers for comfortable sweats and then looked at the numbers glowing red on my nightstand as I pulled them on. It was after nine at night. Normally, I would have been just leaving work.
Flopping on my oversize king bed, I pointed the remote at the television. The screen illuminated. Muting the sound, I continued the dialogue in my head. Didn’t I have a social life once? I rifled through my mental files and realized every event I had recently attended was on behalf of Push—golf outings, conferences, lunches, and dinners. Besides Ty, I didn’t have lots of close friends. He understood my drive and shared in my successes. Yet, he still managed several relationships.
I couldn’t recall going on a date after being with Piper. I picked up my phone, tapped, and swiped my way to Piper’s Facebook page. A reel started with a clip of her hand sporting a massive diamond with undulating letters that said “I said yes,” then faded and swirled through pictures and videos chronicling her journey from her engagement through her wedding day.
When Piper and I started dating, we frequented all the popular restaurants and lounges, but after a while, I’d crash at her place after work or she’d come to mine. There were no “baecations.”
My cell phone rang and Dad’s number lit the display. I wasn’t ready for him yet, so I listened to the trill until he went to voicemail. Dad required a level of emotional sturdiness that I wasn’t ready for. Guilt compelled me to text Tanya to ask how he was healing.
Slowly , she texted back.
Thanks , I responded.
My phone chimed. I tapped the app for my security camera. Holland was at my front door. Holding down the microphone icon, I announced, “Coming.”
Remembering I was bare-chested, I grabbed a T-shirt from a drawer and tugged it over my head while I jogged down the steps to the door.
I knew the probability of dating Holland on an ongoing basis was close to nil, but if I had the chance, I’d give her as much time and attention as she needed, regardless of work. Her magnetic pull drew my undivided attention when she was present and commanded my focus in her absence. How was that possible in the short time I’d known her?
“Hey,” I said, pulling the door open.
“Mind a little company?” she asked without looking at me.
“Anytime.” I stepped aside for her to come in. “Long day, again?”
Holland dragged in a breath. “And then some.”
I held the door open, thrilled that she was there. Holland stepped into me and laid her head on my chest.
“I didn’t want to be alone.”
Pushing the door closed, I wrapped my arms around Holland in the foyer. I let her settle there, feeling her body quiver from her tears. Then I walked her to the couch, where she folded herself against me, nestling into the crook of my arm. I didn’t ask questions. Didn’t offer a listening ear. I let her cry herself into a fitful sleep right there in my arms. I did it for her, not me for a change.
I could learn how to prioritize the right woman and be the man I needed to be—especially this woman.