Page 142 of Play On

I glance out the window. It’s nearly six o’clock, and the sun is still shining across the rich, deep blades of grass. I promised myself I would work for a good two hours after closing the gift shop, and I’ve just about met that goal.

I pick up the pen on my notebook and absently twirl it around my fingers. It’s been a rough few days here at home. There’s still some tension between me and my parents, of course.

And I haven’t been able to talk to Noah. He’s has been on a plane for like eighteen hours, leaving Perth following another win in Australia on Tuesday. I talked to him briefly when he landed this morning, and he said he was going to shower and take a nap. I haven’t heard from him since, but I can’t imagine how tired he must be right now. I know how exhausted I was after my flight. I decided to let him sleep and I’ll simply talk to him tomorrow.

But something happened this afternoon that left me feeling very hopeful.

I haven’t told Noah what Amelia is doing for me—I wanted to tell him that in person. But her mum, Sarah, was thrilled to be asked for her guidance and requested my CV straightaway. I put a very nice, thankful, thoughtful cover letter with it when I sent it to her. Then she called me. We had a long conversation—about my master’s, my job at the auction house, what periods of art I like and why. It was like an interview in itself! Sarah completely vetted me, and afterwards, she said she would like to arrange a luncheon in Mayfair with her and some of her well-connected art friends. So I looked at my schedule, gave Sarah some of my days off, and I’m going to have lunch with her next week in London, and I’m so excited about it.

I know it could still take time for something to develop—if anything at all—but this is a start. Networking. Explaining my situation and presenting my ideas.

And getting expert coaching from the Duchess of Bridgewall on how to do it.

Suddenly I hear the sound of a car coming up the drive. Curious, I look up, as I don’t think we’re expecting anyone. Amelia is back at Swallowhedge—she said she had a scheduled Connectivity Video Connect with Liz tonight.

But then the car draws closer, and I gasp when I see it.

It’s Noah’s Bentley.

“What?” I say out loud, leaping up from my chair.

Just as I’m walking towards the doorway, I hear shoes on the marble tile in the hall. I look up to find Nicholas approaching me, just stopping at the entrance to the library.

“Darby is right on time,” he says, his eyes dancing mischievously at me. “You can let him in for me if you like. Then bring him back to the den.”

Right on time? The den? What is he talking about?

“What is happening?” I ask, my brain reeling. “Why is Noah here? And how do you know about this, and I don’t?”

“You’ll find out,” Nicholas says. “And not that I need to tell you this, but that guy really loves you, Violet. I think I’ll be annoyed with you if you don’t marry him one day.”

Then he winks at me before turning and walking away.

In a state of shock, I go to the door and slide the bar across it. Then I open it and step outside. Noah has just switched off his engine, and I stare at him in complete confusion. The second he gets out of the car, I begin to pepper him with questions.

“Noah, what are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me? How did Nicholas know? You’re only back from Australia today—you must be exhausted—and I don’t understand any of this!”

Noah comes around the front of his car, meeting me at the door. He slides his arms around me, drawing me into his chest. “I love you,” he says simply, as if this answers everything.

“I love you, too, but I’m so conf—”

Noah silences me by putting his index finger over my lips. I immediately stop speaking.

“I know you are, Butterfly. But I’m here for you. I got Amelia’s number from Bella, then I got Nicholas’s from Amelia, and then I was able to tell your mum and dad there are things they don’t know, and I feel they should.”

“What?” I gasp.

“I’m going to tell them why you went to Australia.”

I feel my mouth drop open.

“Yes, I am,” Noah says firmly, rubbing a hand up and down my back. “I’m going to tell them everything. Because they need to know the reason. You weren’t just flying off for a fun week in Australia to watch a friendly. You didn’t do it on a whim. You did it for me. Youshowed upfor me. When nobody else has for years.”

Tears immediately prick my eyes.Noah has shown up for me.

Just as I showed up for him.

“You’re going to make me cry,” I whisper.

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