Page 71 of Beauty
“Are you sure about that? We’ve already established the kinds of activities taking place in your office?—”
With a roll of his eyes, he breathes out an annoyed sigh.
Laughter bubbles out of me in response to his reaction, and his eyes light up.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s nice to see you smiling. It’s been a while.”
That sobers me. But I won’t let it ruin my day. So with a shrug, I say, “Like you guys said, this is my new start.” I pick up the folder on top of the pile he’s left for me. “Get out of here. I need to get up to date in your world.”
As he meanders to the door, his back to me, I look at the name on the folder in my hand and immediately wince. Shit. Of course it’d have to be Noah Harrison.
“Want to do dinner with Millie and me tonight?” Gavin asks, turning in the doorway.
I force a smile. “I’ll keep you posted. I’ve got a call in to a realtor. I want to look for a place of my own.”
His lips kick up on one side. “Moving out? Mom will be beside herself.”
I huff a laugh. “You have no idea what it’s like living with them again. I moved out when I was eighteen, and now I’m thirty and living at home again. It’s pathetic.”
Gavin’s smile softens. “We all need help sometimes.”
Eyes closed, I suck in a steadying breath. Then I lift my chin and look him in the eye. “I think I’ve had enough time to lick my wounds. It’s time I help myself.”
He nods once and taps on the doorframe. “All right. I’ll be at the rink if you need me.”
With that, he’s gone, leaving me alone in this new space.
With a sigh, I pick up the folder with Noah’s name on it. Looking inside feels like cheating. I could have googled him last night. Anyone else probably would have. There’s probably a plethora of information about him on the internet. About his son. The mother.
My throat gets tight just thinking about her.
Ollie is young. Five, maybe. Which means Noah probably met his mom not all that long after our weekend. The thought sends a wave of grief through me. While I haven’t been a nun these last few years, I couldn’t even look at another man for months after I left the Bahamas.
It took years to even go on a date with someone else.
I was a foolish romantic who believed we’d find one another again.
I slump back in my office chair and spin to face the ocean. Its vastness has always made me uneasy. It’s always made me feel small. Especially when I was on the other side of it, far from my family and friends. Far fromhim.
“Ugh.” I groan, dropping my head back. Even now, I’m behaving like a hopeless romantic. How is that still possible? How, after all this time, have I not become more jaded? I should be. The man had a child in the time since I last saw him. He’s probably been married and divorced since then.
Hannah mentioned that he’s single. That one detail, unfortunately, makes my heart pitter-patter like a lovesick teenager.There’s a chance, it says.It’s not impossible, it teases.Maybe it’s fate.
My heart is clearly delusional. It should probably be locked up. Or at least zapped a few times.
“Knock, knock.”
I spin my chair at the sound of a masculine voice.
The man standing in my doorway might be one of the most attractive humans to ever walk the earth. His dirty blond hair is thick and a tad longer in the front, though he’s got it haphazardly brushed to the side. The scruff on his jaw, a couple of shades darker, makes his blue eyes extra bright. The scar across his cheekbone and the light wrinkles around his eyes make me think he’s probably a former hockey player. His suit is a deep shade of blue; his tie, gray. Though with the way the light reflects off the fabric, it’s almost silver.
He’s got one shoulder propped against the doorframe, his stance casual, the vibe radiating off him one of complete ease. Like this man is comfortable in almost every room he enters.
Money.Every inch of him screams it. A lot of it.
It’s the least attractive thing about him.
