I scroll through the search results for Noah Grant, frowning when I find next to nothing. He doesnât have social media profiles, and the only things I can find about him relate to his work or research heâs done. In the few photos I can find of him, he looks blurry. Recognizable, but blurry.
How weird. These days itâs almost impossible for anyone to be this anonymous. Iâve certainly never struggled much with finding out more about someone. If anything, I can usually give the FBI a run for their money. Leia praises my stalker abilities endlessly, yet now that I need them, theyâre letting me down.
I groan and drop my head to my desk. I want to know more about him. Specifically, I want to know if heâs got a girlfriend. A man like him⦠I canât imagine him being single. But then again, would he flirt with me the way he did if he wasnât single? He doesnât seem like the type to do something like that.
âWhat are you doing?â
I sit up at the sound of my motherâs voice and slam my laptop closed. How long has she been standing there? I didnât even hear the door open, thatâs how immersed I was in my stalking of Dr. Grant. How embarrassing. I hope she didnât see what I was up to.
Mom raises her brows and walks into my bedroom, her expression tense. Iâm not sure whatâs going on, but the way she looks at me instantly has me on edge. For years now Mom has been distant, even with me. She doesnât let her emotions show. She rarely gets angry, and similarly, I havenât seen her be happy either. Iâm not even sure what that looks like anymore.
This I remember, though. The worry on her face hits me right in the chest. Itâs an expression I havenât seen in years, and it brings back memories I thought were lost. Falling off the swing on the porch and scraping my knee when I was ten. Cutting my fingers when I was trying to make a solar powered fan at age twelve. There werenât many occasions, but every once in a while Momâs frost would melt away, revealing the woman I used to know. The woman thatâs staring at me right now.
âWhatâs wrong?â I ask, my voice soft.
Mom pauses in front of me, holding a fist up. Her hand trembles as she uncurls her fingers, revealing a golden earring that I instantly recognize. I reach for it, but she snatches her hand away, keeping my earring trapped in her fist.
âWhere did you get that?â I ask, my heart pounding. I lost it on the day Dad contacted me. The same day Dr. Grant carried me into his office. I havenât told her about Dad texting me, and Iâve been struggling with the decision. She wonât respond well, and truthfully, I doubt thereâs any benefit to telling her.
I havenât responded to his text either, and Iâm not sure I will. If just receiving a text from him brings me this much sorrow, then all I stand to gain by letting him back into my life is heartache. Besides, how dare he? How dare he show up now as though nothing happened, telling me he missed me?
âWhy was this on Noah Grantâs desk?â Mom asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I swallow hard, trying my best to control my facial expression. Iâm not good at lying to her, but I canât have her finding out about Dad. âI went to the clinic the other day. I fell on campus and scraped my knees. Dr. Grant saw it happen and offered to help me dress my wounds.â My voice is calm and controlled. Iâm not exactly lying to her about the events of that day, yet I feel like I am. Something about this entire exchange feels off, and it isnât just Dad texting me that I want to hide from her. I instinctively want to hide that it wasnât the first time I met Dr. Grant, but I canât quite figure out why. It isnât just because of the nature of my first visit. Itâs the way sheâs looking at me.
Mom stares at me, silent for a few seconds before she nods, her shoulders relaxing. She hands me my earring and I take it from her, a forced smile on my face.
âWhy didnât you tell me you got hurt? We have a private clinic you shouldâve gone to.â
I nod nervously. âYeah, I know,â I murmur. âBut Dr. Grant saw me fall and helped me straight away. Why would I go to our family clinic when he was right there?â
I study Mom carefully, trying to figure out what sheâs thinking. Why is she asking me about Dr. Grant? I bite down on my lip, worried that she somehow found out about my first visit to his office. Sheâd hate the idea of me testing sex toys, and sheâd be too worried about rumors of my little incident. It isnât me she cares about. Itâs my reputation.
âHave you seen or spoken to him since then?â
I frown and shake my head. âNo. Why?â
Mom shakes her head. âItâs nothing. You need to stay away from him. Donât go see him again.â
I lean back in my seat and look at her through narrowed eyes. âWhy?â
Mom sighs impatiently. âWhy must you challenge me on everything? Iâd never ask you to do anything that isnât in your best interests, Amara.â
I shake my head. âThatâs not an answer, Mother. Why do you want me to stay away from Dr. Grant? Heâs been nothing but nice to me.â
Mom purses her lips and looks away. âYour grandfather has decided to mentor him. He wants to train Noah so he can take over our current medical holdings and expand them further. Noah has potential far greater than any of the men that currently work for us. Heâs overcome challenges most people canât even fathom. That man needs a break, and Grandpa is going to give it to him. Donât stand in the way of that, Amara. Donât get involved with him in any way.â
I frown and cross my arms. âI donât understand,â I tell her. âThat makes no sense, Mom. If Grandpa sees potential in him, then why is there a problem with me being friends with him? Not that we are, but still.â
Mom looks down at the floor, her expression crestfallen. She takes a moment to pull herself together, and the pain she tries to hide just intrigues me further.
âWill you please trust me on this, Amara? Nothing good will come from you getting involved with Noah. I wonât stop you from being friends with him, but it can never go further than that. Promise me, Amara.â
She looks at me with such desperation that I nod without thinking. âOf course, Mom. I promise.â
She exhales in relief and smiles shakily. âThank you, sweetheart.â
I nod even as my thoughts are whirling. I know my mom. Iâm not going to get more information out of her, but something doesnât add up. Why would she want me to stay away from Dr. Grant if heâs someone Grandpa trusts with his business? Grandpa doesnât approve of many people, and he rarely lets outsiders into his inner circle. Our entire board consists of only Astors. I donât doubt for a second that Grandpa loves his empire more than he loves me. If heâs trusting Noah enough to mentor him himself and let him manage close to a billion dollars in assets, then thereâs no way he wouldnât trust Noah with me.
âHow are things with your company?â Mom asks, raising my suspicions even further. She hates talking about my company, but sheâs standing here with a smile on her face, pretending to be interested.
âItâs good, Mom. I have a meeting with Wilson tomorrow.â
âWilson?â she asks, and I grimace. Iâve told her about him multiple times now. âOh, right. Your friend!â
âYeah, but heâs also my investor,â I remind her.
Mom nods. âOh okay, I hope it goes well.â
Something is definitely up, and itâs got something to do with Dr. Grant. I bite down on my lip as I stare at my mother. I havenât stopped thinking about Dr. Grant since I first met him. Mom might want me to stay away, but her words ensured I wonât. Sheâs hiding something, and I want to know what it is.