Chapter 9 Betting Against Getting Under
Monday morning, I replay the conversation with Nan and Henrietta, my leg bouncing under the table, while I wait for Kara to stumble into the kitchen.
She spent most of Saturday and all of Sunday at the studio, which gave me plenty of time to work through every outcome.
By bedtime last night, I had myself convinced she would say no to taking on the tasks I do for Nan.
But in the cold light of day, I fear she might actually say yes.
On the one hand, having her admit she’s too deep in her store launch to take on anything extra would solve the issue of my growing attraction.
The idea of being on a long weekend trip with Noah where we wine and dine clients still makes my skin itch with nerves.
No overnights means no potential for me to make a fool of myself.
He, of course, isn’t interested, but there’s no telling how I might smudge the lines.
My job at Flourish is a means to an end, and I don’t have time to risk it.
And yet, as I sip my coffee and wait for my auburn-haired roommate, the itchy anticipation sizzles against the fantasy of, as Nan said, taking him out for a spin.
He told me the night we met all of his past partners were more satisfied than I was with Ryan, and while that bar is lower than low, I haven’t been able to stop picturing what that might mean.
Just before seven, Kara shuffles into the kitchen, effectively interrupting my sexy spiral. She yawns and rubs sleep from her eyes as I hide the blush on my cheeks with a sip from my coffee. Her soft pink bathrobe is fastened tight around her middle, and she sort of nods in my general direction.
“Good morning,” I chime. “There’s coffee.”
My voice is high and tight and she scowls. I clear my throat, knowing I’ve pushed my chipperness too far.
“What do you want?” she asks while grabbing her favorite lizard mug from the cupboard.
“For the sake of time, I am going to ignore the fact you don’t believe me capable of being nice just for the hell of it.”
Her stare is blank, unamused. The long braid she usually sleeps in is tucked over one shoulder, her curls begging to be free of it.
“I do have a favor to ask. No pressure either way.” Silence welcomes me to continue. “Noah called me. On Saturday. While I was at Nan’s.”
This pulls her out of the semi-comatose state; her face lights up and she slides into the chair across from me.
“Tell me more, mi amore.”
“He called to ask for my assistance on a business trip to visit some clients down in California. It’s scheduled for a week from Wednesday, and if I went I would be gone through Tuesday morning the following week.
Problem is, if I go with him, Nan doesn’t have anyone to do her bidding while I’m gone. ”
“You got it. I’m here for you and Nan. Whatever she needs.”
“But it’s during your store launch.” She looks at me like I’m speaking in tongues, so I clarify. “I promised to help you, and I—”
Shaking her head, she holds a hand up and I stop short.
“Have you already talked to Nan about it?”
“Yes.”
“Well then I know, sure as shit, if you’re asking me, Nan already gave the go ahead. I’m in. I’ll help you on your quest to seduce your boss.”
I scoff. “That is not why I’m going.”
“Oh, yes it is.” Kara fakes a swoony sigh and practically sings, “Late nights a little booze, under the California moon. You two are gonna bang.”
“We are not.”
“I’d bet next month’s rent that you will have him sexed up and down by the end of the trip.”
“That is both offensive to me and a terrible bet for you.”
“Lottie. I know you. I know you know how sexy he is and how sexy you are. The two of you are going to realize this, and sexy hell will break loose.”
“Do you also know that he’s my boss?”
“For like, three more months. That isn’t going to feel like much when you’ve had a drink or two.”
I roll my eyes. She’s not wrong, but the more I get to know Noah, the more I know he is not for me—even on a casual level. Never mind the fact he hasn’t produced an ounce of interest, he’s everything I tend to avoid in partners.
While I could potentially wrap my head around having a hot fling, the annoying fear of needing anyone else—a parting gift from my last ex, Axel, and the year we spent spiraling into a codependent sludge—isn’t going anywhere.
The only thing I need from this relationship is my paycheck, and while I respect the sugar baby hustle, it’s not for me.
Besides, Noah has made it clear he only spends time on the best of things. One weekend away with me and he could maybe learn I’d sweep in the category of best sex he’ll ever have, but that’s about the extent of my merits when it comes to dating. It’s a bad idea all around.
However, Kara’s stakes, while insulting and teeming with her disbelief in my self control, give me an idea.
“I’ll take that bet.”
Kara—distracted by her cuticles—startles, a wily smile growing across her face.
“What bet?”
Extending my hand, I settle in. “I bet my half of next month’s rent that I won’t sleep with Noah.”
Kara slips her palm against mine and shakes.
“You’ve got a deal.”
“Easiest rent-free month I’ve ever managed.”
“I think you’re underestimating the seductive nature of business class.”
Two hours later, I’m sitting at my desk, clenching my hands and waiting for Noah to be available so I can let him know I can accompany him.
All morning, I’ve been sweating under the knowledge that I actually made a bet with my roommate about not sleeping with my boss.
It feels like it’s stamped across my forehead and at any moment someone will call me out for it.
I stare at Noah’s phone line, the little red dot blurring into a streak as I contemplate going away with him. Or, traveling with him. Going away makes it sound like a whirlwind honeymoon weekend, which it certainly is not.
There’s little doubt we’ll fly first class, given Noah’s insistence at only experiencing the best, and I suppose I should be grateful for the extra space.
Maybe I can convince Shawna to reserve us seats across the aisle, or better yet, in different rows.
Hell, I’ll slum it in economy if it means avoiding Kara’s teasing about joining the mile high club.
The red dot blinks a few times before flicking off and I push up from my desk. Noah is engrossed in something on his computer screen when I pop my head around the corner.
“Knock, knock,” I chime, rapping my knuckles on the doorframe.
“Charlotte.” His face breaks into a smile and my stomach erupts with nerves. This is such a bad idea. “Please, come in.”
I cross the dark carpet and sink into one of the chairs opposite him. Crossing my legs and folding my hands over my knee, I clear my throat.
“I wanted to let you know I’ve managed to work out coverage for all the things I needed, and I am available to accompany you on the trip to visit and schmooze Tom.”
Noahs’ eyebrows shoot up and I panic. Did I overstep? Maybe he already declined for me. He was ready to do just that until I insisted he wait.
“Unless you’ve already made other arrangements, that is,” I stutter.
Smoothing the fabric of my skirt, the snarling tiger tattoo reminds me of all the reasons he might second guess taking me.
I am, after all, a curvy, tattooed wild card he first met while I was stumbling out of a dive bar bathroom, post hook-up.
“I realize, I’m not exactly family-friendly, and we’ve had plenty of exchanges that might disqualify me from being the face of Flourish in a deal like this.
“If you wanted to go alone, or take someone else I totally understand—Amy is totally great and I bet she’d . . . I just thought, you know what, I have some things to get done. I should—”
“Charlotte.” Noah cuts me off, standing at the same time I do. “No. I didn’t make other arrangements. In fact, I’m glad to hear you’re available.”
“You are?”
“I am.”
“I just thought . . .” I take a deep breath. “Well, to be honest, your hesitation made me think you’d slept on it and decided I wasn’t the image you wanted to present.”
He opens and closes his mouth a few times, as if grappling with how to respond.
“I don’t want anyone else to go,” he says, finally.
“Even if I hadn’t told Tom who was coming, you are the one who knows this launch, and you are the one I want championing our brand.
Tom only needs to spend four minutes with you to recognize the same drive and heart I know you’ll pour into this project. ”
His compliment trickles warmth into my toes and I can’t help but break into a full smile.
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do have a conference call with our favorite tabloid star, so I can brief him on the apology you wrote for him. He doesn’t deserve it, but we all appreciate it.”
He sinks back into his chair. I turn to leave, but pause at the door.
“Did you want me to arrange flights with Shawna?”
“No need,” he says, without looking up. “I secured a private flight. In fact, if you’d like I can swing by and pick you up that morning. Might be more economic that way.”
My jaw aches under the way I’m clenching it.
A private plane. Ghosts of my prior judgments about Noah and his frat boy friends dance at the edge of my vision.
Of course we would fly private. Only the best of the best, environment be damned, right?
Not to mention the kind of money that has to be thrown around before someone considers personal access to a private plane.
Noah’s phone doesn’t give me a chance to respond, it’s ring signaling the start of his conference call, and I click his door shut behind me as he answers.
It’s clear we are not only in two separate social classes, but also separate economic lanes.
I’m not so dense as to not have thought about this before learning about the private plane, but the way he casually mentioned it as if it isn’t the most luxurious thing I’m sure to experience makes it that much easier to accept nothing can or will ever happen between us.
I have no interest in entertaining the idea of a wealthy asshat lay, and he has no business downgrading tax brackets on my account.
As freeing as I feel this should be, as I settle in for a morning of approving marketing mock-ups, I can’t shake the slump of a fantasy undone. I hate to admit it, but Noah was starting to unravel some of my prior opinions, and this cinched too many of them tight again.