Page 28 of Noah
The meeting with the execs was happening in the one of the private suites in the hotel—which I hadn’t even known they had—and it looked like they’d invited the whole record company. Plus a lot of the team that was managing the tour itself. Plus, as it turned out, photographers and members of the press. I’d contacted Tempest and asked if I should go and they’d told me yes, which meant I was also there with press credentials.
I toyed with the pass on my chest as I walked in the door, thinking about how strange it was that I was here in an official capacity. Sure, Noah had asked me to come to run interference, in case he needed help, but I wasn’t here for him. I’d brought my camera and a recorder, and Chris was also in the room somewhere. If anything happened here, it would go right into the feature we were doing.
And if Noah needed me? Well, I’d be available.
Noah. My mind flashed back to what happened last night, and I had to catch my breath. I’d thought it was the moment I’d been waiting for, when Noah finally saw me as something otherthan his little sister. I’d honestly thought he finally realized that he felt more for me. And God, it had felt good.
Until it didn’t. The moment he pushed me into that closet to keep other people from seeing me, I lost all the illusions. And honestly, I should have known better. Noah hadn’t wanted me for me. Or rather… Well, he had, but not for the reasons I thought. He asked right off the bat for me to come to this meeting to help him—typical—and after that, must have gotten carried away. Or maybe he thought he needed to sweeten the deal? Kiss me and make nice, literally, so I’d agree to come help him with this big meeting?
I hadn’t thought of it before, but now that I did I was even angrier. How dare he take advantage of my emotions that way? He knew I loved him more than anyone else in the world, as my oldest and best friend. I would have helped him with this meeting no matter what, but thinking about him kissing me like that just to get me to agree…
My temper came up and my blood started to boil, and I didn’t realize I was squeezing my hands into fists until I felt the edges of my camera pressing into my skin. I loosened my hand quickly—I couldn’t afford to break this camera—and forced myself to look around the room. This was more like a party than a meeting, honestly. A table along the wall held a variety of food and drinks and the corner featured an entire coffee bar. A chocolate fountain and a mound of strawberries finished the food offerings, and on the other side of the room, a DJ was overseeing the music. Everyone wore suits and ties, but I figured that was only because of the nature of the meeting. Taylor was in her element, all pants suit and updo, talking a million miles an hour to the poor men she’d cornered. I wondered if those were the execs, but then saw Noah talking to a different group of men.
Those were the execs. They had to be. They were the ones he’d be performing for.
And he was definitely performing. He looked nothing like himself. The suit was new, and his hair was actually combed and gelled. He’d made sure his tattoos were covered—most of them—and this might have been the first time I’d ever seen him in public without a cigarette. He looked grownup. Responsible. Hell, he even had a briefcase. And though the men around him looked surprised at the change, they were also listening intently to whatever he was saying. Definitely taking him seriously.
Last night he was asking for advice and support and now he looked like he didn’t need it at all. Sort of like how he didn’t actually need me last night in the hallway, when he pushed me into that closet.
That was all it took to turn me off again. I’d come here to support him even after what he did, and it turned out he didn’t need me. He hadn’t even looked up when I entered. He wasn’t interested in me actually being here. Or rather he was, but only if he needed something. I was his backup plan. His insurance.
Typical Noah.
I turned right around and left the room. The magazine didn’t need any pictures of this, and if they needed coverage, Chris would write something up for them. I couldn’t do it. Noah had misled me last night, taken advantage of me, and was now acting as if it had all been part of a plan. And I couldn’t stand it. This was the reason I’d left in the first place. Everything with him was about him, not me. I’d known I had to get out so I could live my own life, and I had.
I needed to live for myself, not him. I needed to stop being around just in case he needed me. Because being around just in case was how I got my heart broken.
I’d forgotten that last night, but now I remembered. And I wasn’t going to let that slip out of my head again. Because I was tired of being hurt by the man I’d thought I loved. It was time to stop letting him get to me at all.
Time to protect myself.
Igot to my room just in time to hear my laptop ding with a new email, and moved quickly toward it, dying for something to distract me. When I pulled up my email, though, expecting something from the magazine or even a friend, I saw an address I didn’t recognize.
Then I looked at the name of the sender, and everything came back.
A dingy, dark building in the middle of St. Louis, with dirty floors and even dirtier walls. Rows of tables in a long, hollow room. Too many kids with hungry faces and empty eyes. Administrators who hadn’t cared as much about the kids as they had their paychecks and the man who ran it all, who went right past not caring and into outright cruelty. The horror of hearing that you were being sent to a foster family for a month. The crushing blow of seeing kids come back from those homes with new scars, both physical and emotional.
We’d been terrified, hungry, and always cold, stuffed into dorms that didn’t have enough beds or blankets. And for the most part, we’d had to fend for ourselves when it came to food, shelter, and safety. I’d been a target for the older boys from the moment I got old enough to be labeled a girl, and though I’d managed to fight them off, I’d always known it was going to get worse. That one day, I’d meet a boy I couldn’t get away from.
And then Noah found me and took me under his wing. He’d basically forced Rivers, Matt, and Hudson to do the same, and I’d suddenly had a family around me. A huge change for a girl who’d been dropped off at the orphanage as a newborn, herparents too drunk or high or uncaring to bother to keep their baby girl.
Seeing the name of the place sent chills down my spine and I almost closed my laptop again. I didn’t know what the orphanage wanted but I didn’t want anything to do with them. I left when I eighteen and legally an adult, and went right to Nashville to join the boys in the music industry. I’d never looked back, and worked very hard not to think about my time there or the parents who deserted me. Thinking about it didn’t do any good. All I could do was take what I learned from the experience–that you couldn’t count on other people, and that you needed to choose your family–and live my life the best I could.
When I tried to close my laptop, though, I paused. I didn’t want that email and didn’t really care what it said. But I knew myself well enough to realize that it was going to bother me until I read it. I hated having bad news in my inbox. No matter where I went or what I did, a piece of my mind would be on it, like the ticking time bomb it was. If I deleted it I’d always wonder what it had said, and if I kept it, it would be a constant temptation.
Dammit.
I clicked on the email to open it, terrified, and held my breath as I read what it said. Then I tipped my head, confused, and read it again. The email was from the head secretary. She’d had an email from a man who wanted to speak to me. He claimed to be my father and wanted a DNA test. He wanted to find his little girl.
What the actual fuck?
Suddenly it was all too much. The new job, the night with Noah, him shoving me into the closet. His plea for help when he obviously didn’t need it. The way he only saw himself. And now this man who thought he wanted to meet me and force me to take a DNA test, just to satisfy himself. What the hell was that?If he’d really wanted to find me, he’d had years and years to do it. He could have come for me when I was in that horrible place, fighting for enough food to survive.
He could have saved me before I was damaged.
Instead, he’d waited until I was twenty-five, and for what reason?
If he was even my dad. And if he was...
