âWell done, son,â Mr. Astor says. I smile at him, a sense of pride washing over me. Heâs been working me to the bone all week. Iâve barely had time to sleep between work, the endless dinners and lunches he asks me to attend, and the site visits weâve been doing together.
I didnât expect him to be so involved in his new acquisitions, but heâs personally reviewed every single aspect of the three clinics we bought.
âI got the hang of it after the first two,â I tell him. Heâs been teaching me what to look out for in acquisitions, how to negotiate, and how to put together a growth plan to turn businesses around and make them more profitable, which is ultimately what he wants for his portfolio.
âYou wonât need me to accompany you anymore soon. Iâll leave you in charge of growing the business. Iâd like to own another seven clinics in three monthsâ time. Thereâll be a lot to learn.â
I nod, oddly nervous. He offered me a performance-based contract, meaning I get a cut of the profits of each of his clinics. The more profitable I can make them, the more Iâll earn.
âWorking at the college clinic helps,â I tell him honestly. âSeeing how thatâs run, being there to make operational changes and seeing how they impact the clinic⦠that type of hands-on experience is invaluable.â
He grins as he opens his car door, and I rush to get to the passenger door. Heâs always been friendly, but Iâm not crazy enough to get too comfortable with him. âI knew I was right to put my faith in you, Noah.â
I smile back at him in gratitude. âThis opportunity youâre giving me, Iâm beyond grateful for it, Mr. Astor.â
He shakes his head as he puts the car into gear. âYou neednât be, Noah. And call me Harold, please. Weâre hardly strangers, are we?â
I nod, feeling a little out of place. My life has changed so much in the span of a few months. The trajectory Iâm on isnât one I couldâve ever gotten to by myself. No matter how hard I work, by myself this would never be achievable.
âItâs late. How about dinner at my place? Youâd probably eat alone otherwise, wouldnât you? Besides, my daughter has been asking about you. Sheâs convinced that Iâm overworking you. I think itâd be good for her to see you.â
My first instinct is to decline. Dinner at his house means facing Amara. She and I havenât spoken since that day at the vineyard. I havenât seen her at all, but that hasnât kept her off my mind. Iâm trying to distance myself from her, but it seems like an impossible task.
Everything reminds me of her. Sheâs so deeply entrenched in my life. I canât go to work without thinking of her in my office, I canât go to the gym without thinking of the time I caught her crying in the rain, and then thereâs her grandfather⦠sheâs everywhere.
Iâm absentminded by the time we get to the Astor mansion. Iâm not ready to see her. Iâve only just about managed to convince myself to stay away, but Iâm weak. One look at her and my resolve will crumble. I wonât be able to remind myself that I can never provide her with the life she has now. And if I give in, Iâll lose my only chance at an extraordinary future.
âYou all right, son?â
I nod and force a smile onto my face as we walk toward the dining room. If Mr. Astor notices, he doesnât say anything.
A pang of disappointment hits me right in the chest when I walk into the room to find that Amara isnât there. Itâs just her mother.
âCharlotte,â I say, greeting her. She rises from her seat and hugs me, startling me.
âHow are you, sweetheart?â she asks, pulling out a seat for me the way my mother used to do. I stare at her in surprise, my heart twisting painfully. Iâve done a very good job at pushing down the pain that haunted me for so long, but every once in a while, something happens that reopens the wounds.
Charlotte smiles at me, but thereâs a hint of worry in her eyes. I grit my teeth as I sit down. Iâm trying, but I canât recall what my motherâs laughter sounds like. The memories are fading, and itâs killing me.
âWhatâs wrong?â Charlotte asks, her tone higher than usual, a hint of panic in it.
I shake my head and force a smile onto my face. âItâs nothing. Iâm sorry. For a moment, you reminded me of my mother.â
Her eyes widen, and she looks away in understanding. I know the Astors looked into me, into my background, so she knows how my parents were killed. Iâm not after sympathy, though. Itâs taken my sister and me years to heal as much of our battered hearts as we could, and I donât want to take a step back.
âExcuse me for a minute,â I tell her, needing a moment to compose myself. As the years pass, it becomes easier to hang onto the good memories and to let go of the pain, but tonight Iâm struggling. Maybe itâs the loneliness Iâve been feeling, maybe itâs the way both Charlotte and Harold have welcomed me into their family, each of them in their own way. Maybe itâs a combination of it all. Either way, the pain is hitting me hard tonight.
I look up in confusion when I realize where I am. I walked into Amaraâs bedroom without thinking. It shouldnât surprise me. This is, after all, where she took me last time. Besides, if Iâm truly honest with myself, Iâm longing for her tonight. I want her snark, her smiles.
I sit down on her bed and smile to myself. I can just imagine her lying here, testing out her toys. I wonder if she ever thinks of me.
My fingers trail over her pillow and my eyes fall closed. I wish I could have her in my arms tonight. Falling asleep with her, what would that be like?
I tense when her bedroom door opens. Amara gasps, her initial shock quickly making way for confusion.
âNoah,â she murmurs, and the way she says my name tugs at my broken heart. I drink her in, my eyes roaming over her body. She looks beautiful tonight. âWhat are you doing here?â
I rise from her bed and cross the room, pausing right in front of her. âYour grandfather invited me over for dinner.â
She looks into my eyes, and the look in her eyes soothes my soul. âThat doesnât explain why youâre in my bedroom.â
My eyes drop to her lips, and I grit my teeth when I notice the edges of her lipstick are smudged. I cup her face and brush my thumb over the barely visible stains. She tenses underneath my touch, her eyes widening.
âWhere were you tonight?â I ask, unable to keep the question buried.
She blinks and looks away, as though she canât face me. I laugh humorlessly and let go of her, taking a step away. Iâve been fucked up over her, and all the while I thought she felt the same way. I guess I was wrong.
âI apologize for intruding,â I tell her, pasting on my physician-face.
I move to walk past her, but before I can, she grabs my hand. âNoah,â she whispers, and I stop in my tracks.