2
Late the next evening, Noah's doorbell rang again.
Seriously? Did these kids not have a responsible parent around?
He ignored it. He was in his office, but he'd already finished recording. The punks from next door wouldn't ruin his work today.
He played another audio clip from the university's online library of birdsongs. This morning, during a brisk walk down to the pond, he'd heard a completely new bird and been unable to identify it. He could still remember thetrill,tweet tweet,trill—had recorded a voice memo with his own terrible mimic of the birdcall—and wanted to identify it before the sound faded.
Thirty seconds later, someone knocked stridently on the front door. And didn't quit.
It was impossible to focus with the onslaught of noise. Noah grabbed his phone and put in a quick call to Aiden, who had access to the video feed for his doorbell.
"It's a girl—woman," Aiden corrected himself. "She is... She is very attractive. Short hair. Really short. Light eyes. Blue maybe—"
"Aiden."
Very attractive. Aiden was twenty-four and single. Of course he'd notice. It'd been over a decade since Noah had been eighteen and girl crazy. Sometimes he felt like it had been more like a century. Aiden still had his whole life ahead to chase girls and make plans.
Noah's life had ended before he'd reached puberty. He just hadn't known it then.
"Sorry. She's got—uh... Looks like it must be the mom of the two boys who've been messing with you. They're standing behind her."
His neighbors. He'd told Aiden to make sure they stayed away.
Either his assistant had botched the message—unlikely—or the neighbor lady was a stubborn jerk who didn't listen.
The knocking turned to pounding on his door. Like she wanted to break it down. The unwanted noise pulsed like a pounding headache against the base of his skull.
He had to unclench his teeth where his molars were grinding together. Two minutes. He'd give her two minutes to get lost, and then he was calling the sheriff's office and report her for trespassing.
"Are you sure you don't want to just see what she wants?" Aiden asked.
"I'm sure."
"I mean, if somebody that gorgeous were standing at my front door..."
Noah ended the call before he said something he'd regret. Aiden had been his assistant for four years. In all that time, he'd never asked Noah about his personal life—or lack thereof. Those uncomfortable conversations were left to Mom, whom Noah spoke to at least twice a week.
The pounding stopped. Thank God.
He played another birdcall.Shrreet,trill trill. That wasn't right either.
The distraction had cost him. He had to fight harder to play the birdcall from that morning in his memory.
He startled when his phone rang again.
Aiden. What now?
"Uh... She says she's not leaving until she talks to you."
Who said? Aiden's statement didn't make sense. "What?"
"The lady just texted me," Aiden explained. "And said that she isn't leaving until she talks to you."
Noah's temperature spiked. Of course she would have the number from when Aiden had called her.
"I don't have time for this."
