Page 44 of Gossip Game

“Not the same. Football is a game. Love isn’t.”

“Ah ha.” His father grinned behind his steepled fingers. “You do love her, then.”

Christ, did he ever. He let out a long-suffering groan as he dragged his fingers through his hair.

“Is that such a bad thing?” his dad asked. “And don’t give me any more of that crap about you being from different worlds. You both bring a certain amount of notoriety to the relationship. And it doesn’t matter how you grew up. How you go forward is what’s important.”

“Relationships are hard enough without your every move being dissected on social media.”

His father chuckled as he stood. “There’s no requirement that she be at the game tonight.”

“I told her that. She wants to come anyway.”

“Then that should tell you all you need to know, son.” His father dropped his hand to Noah’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Come on. The team will suit up for practice soon. I’m sure they’d love a couple of pointers.”

He stood to follow his dad. “Do you think Meemaw might have faked her illness last night to guilt me into bringing Charlotte?”

His father’s eyes widened before he bellowed out a laugh. “You know something? I wouldn’t put it past her.”

A muffled groan coming from the other side of the house had Charlotte dashing from the guest room.

“Meemaw? Are you okay?”

Please don’t let anything happen to Noah’s grandmother. It will wreck him.

“In here.”

Charlotte breathed a little easier as she hurried through the elegant bedroom, ignoring the heirloom antiques it was decorated with. She slid to a halt in the adjoining bathroom. Meemaw was seated in front of an ornate makeup mirror, wiping her eyes.

“What happened?” Charlotte sank down on her heels beside the upholstered bench Meemaw was perched on.

“Life happened.” The older woman waved a brow pencil. “The years stole my eyebrows. Old age makes my hands shake so that now I can’t even draw new ones on.”

“Is that all?”

“Says the perky twenty-something. Just you wait, young lady.” Meemaw pinned her with her most haughty look.

She couldn’t help it. Charlotte laughed as she took the eyebrow pencil from the older woman’s hand.

“Here. Let me help.”

“Oh, don’t mind me. You scoot. I heard you on the phone with your office. You’re too busy running a beauty empire to waste time on an old gal like me.”

“Nonsense. I would be a fool to resist the chance to glam up a sophisticated, seasoned woman.” Charlotte knee-walked in front of Meemaw. “It’s market research.”

“Oooo, I like that. I’m not old. I’m seasoned.” She lifted her chin to study her face in the mirror while Charlotte sorted through the makeup on the counter.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done someone else’s makeup. This will be fun.” She slipped a headband on Meemaw to keep her hair back.

“I would think running a company would be much more exciting. Not to mention fulfilling.”

“Mmm.” Charlotte tested out the various colors of pencils on her hand before holding it up to Meemaw’s face. “It was.”

“Was? You don’t enjoy running Truly You? How come?”

Charlotte traced the brow pencil along the bottom arch of Meemaw’s sparse eyebrows. “I love Truly like it was my child. But like most kids, it’s growing up. And outgrowing me.”

This was the first time she could speak the words without that stabbing pain of not being good enough. Noah was right. She’d been skilled enough to get the company off the ground. To get it where it was today before handing it off to investors. That was how most companies worked. Instead of feeling like a failure, she needed to revel in her success.

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