He held his hands up. “Can you blame me?”
“You think I’m good enough for your son?”
“Better than he deserves.”
“I don’t know about that.”
Benito reached out, briefly cupping my cheek. “You've said it yourself; you’re a world-renowned thoracic surgeon. He’s a businessman training to take over my position one day. You’d mesh well.”
A weird thought flashed through my mind. If I were to marry Noah, no one could compel me to testify against him. My deal with the assholes who hounded me would be null.
But that would mean they’d no longer investigate the catalyst for my continued heartache. Not that they seemed too keen on finding the answers right now, but they’d give up completely, and I'd be left without answers again. I couldn't withstand that outcome.
Besides, the wishes of an old man meant nothing in comparison to Noah’s feelings. He’d made it clear more than once how much he disliked me. I was just another pretty face to him—someone to kiss and then dismiss.
“I haven’t heard him asking,” I said, immediately regretting it. Knowing Benito, he’d convince Noah to ask me out and turn it into an obligation.
“Perhaps he’s scared.”
I laughed way too loudly at that. “I’m sorry, but Noah Costa isn’t scared of anything.”
“He’s scared of hurting you.”
That stopped me in my tracks. “No.” I shook my head. “You’re mistaken.”
The main door opened, and Noah came in with a file box in his hands, stacked with manila folders on top.
“Let’s find out,” Benito said as Noah dropped the box on the coffee table.
“God, no,” I protested as I stood.
“Sailor, I didn't realize you’d be here.” Noah looked at his watch. “I guess I took longer than I’d expected to.”
“I was just leaving,” I replied with a glare at Benito meant to warn him into silence.
“Don’t leave on his account,” Benito protested. “We were having a lovely conversation.”
“It took an odd turn at the end. We should drop it.”
Passing by the table on my way to the door, I glanced down at the picture sitting on top of a manila file folder. Two men had their arms around each other’s shoulders, and one of them looked familiar. It wasn't the man Lauder and Berkshire had warned me away from, but someone else. His hair was a similar shade of blond to mine, but darker. Before I could place him, Noah spoke from beside me.
“Dad is still progressing?”
My gaze snapped to his face, feeling guilty that he caught me being nosey. “Practically one hundred percent.”
“Good. Thank you.” Shoveling his hands through his hair, he added, “And I'm sorry about yesterday.”
Refusing to look at Benito when he coughed, I merely said, “No apology necessary. Let’s just agree not to make it a pattern.”
“Of course.”
“I need to remain professional at work, that’s all.” I felt myself rambling, but I couldn't find any sense of calm around Noah. “Or we'll create more fodder for gossip.”
A large part of me wanted to know what it would feel like to be loved. It had been years since I’d been wrapped up in the warm embrace of someone who gave a shit about me. But I was also afraid I’d grab onto the smallest facsimile of a connection because I was so desperate for the attention, and then I would turn it into a disaster. It was an accident that I’d come into these men’s lives, and my purpose here was to ruin them.
I was missing the most vital parts of a normal human being, and I couldn't let that rub off on them. My demons followed me wherever I went, ready to pounce without notice. Sometimes I felt like I died with my parents that night, and I’ve just been a ghost standing on that road all alone ever since.
“I have business to discuss with my father,” Noah said, interrupting my thoughts. “But if you’re on your way out, I’ll walk you down.”
