Chapter 5

As I walked into the office, Noah's gaze traveled from my head to my toes and back up again. His eyebrows were raised, and his mouth was set in a firm line as if he were trying not to laugh. His hair was perfectly parted, and he wore a bright orange polo shirt with pressed khakis.

He looked like he had stepped straight out of a Ralph Lauren ad.

But when did Noah not look like a model?

"Tell me what happened," he said.

"Are you a mind reader?" I asked as I sat my bag down.

"No, I'm just very receptive to energy," he bragged. "That, and your dress has a small rip, right," he found the exact spot with his finger, "here."

"Some dude on a skateboard ran me over!" I shoved my sunglasses towards him. "Look at what he did!"

"Oh, hell no," Noah squealed. He was always ready to take my side, even over broken sunglasses.

"It's terrible, right?" I needed someone to validate my feelings.

"The worst! Are you okay, though?" he asked.

"Lucky for me," I nodded. "He could have given me a concussion with the way he knocked into me."

"I've always said skateboards are dangerous," he said.

"Have you always said that?" I asked.

"I mean, I've never had a reason to," he clarified, "but I've always thought it."

"It was partially my fault," I admitted. "My attention was on my stupid phone and my never-ending emails. I should have been more aware, but I wasn't. I wasn't paying attention."

Noah's expression softened, and he shook his head as if to say it was okay.

"You are a pedestrian," he reminded me. "You have the exclusive right of way over skateboarders or bicyclists. He was at fault, Kenna."

"I know what you mean," I said. "I just feel bad. I was such a bitch to him."

"As you should have been," he confirmed. "But, honestly, your version of ‘bitch' is still nice, so I doubt you offended him. Did you get his information?"

"I mean, it wasn't a car accident. It's not like I took his driver's license number and insurance information. He did offer to replace my sunglasses. He wrote down his phone number for me."

"I think you should text him right now," Noah said. "Before he falls off his skateboard, knocks his head on some asphalt, and forgets the encounter entirely."

"I have no intentions of reaching out to him," I said.

"Why the hell not?" Noah seemed genuinely irritated by the lack of justice being served to the skateboarder. "He owes you."

"I should have been watching where I was going," I admitted. "He was right. No one is really at fault. It was an accident."

"Whatever you say, Kenna," Noah said before wrapping his arms around me. I sank into the hug I so desperately needed from my friend. "You know, you're too nice for your own good," he whispered.

"That's not true," I said. "You know I'm the worst when I'm hungry."

"But you give good hugs to make up for it," Noah gave me one final squeeze before he let me go.

The office phone began to ring, and Noah jumped into action. "Pretty Palms Real Estate, Noah speaking," he said to the person on the other end of the line. "How may I help you today?"

I glanced around my office and felt a sense of pride. The office suite I rented was the smallest in the building, but its coziness was my favorite thing about it. The walls were painted a calming, light shade of pink. Subtle recessed lighting illuminated the area. Our two desks were stationed on opposite walls, facing each other. A miniature conference room was situated between the kitchenette and the bathroom. It was the only private space in the rental. I adored how open the office was. I didn't have plans to extend my team, but I could easily fit another desk in the small space if I needed to.

When my gaze returned to Noah, his eyes widened with apprehension and dread.

"Oh, okay," he finally said to the caller.

I knew something unpleasant was coming my way. I could feel it.

"Let me just—" Noah said into the phone, but the person on the other end of the line clearly interrupted him.

Noah started to scribble something down on the sticky notepad on his desk. I glanced over his shoulder to find the name ‘Brett' in all capital letters with four lines drawn under it.

"No," I mouthed to Noah. "No way!"

"Sure, I'll have her contact you," Noah said. "Have a great day. Bye now!"

"Have her what?" I asked. "Are you kidding me?"

"I am so sorry, Kenna." He looked down at his feet. "I'm not good at telling people no. You know this!"

"What the hell does he want?" I asked, and my heartbeat started to pick up. I didn't want to talk to Brett. I had zero interest in speaking to him ever again. "He could have called me on my cell phone. Why is he being so formal?"

"That's the thing," Noah explained. "He called to formally ask you to be his real estate agent. His words, not mine."

"Hell no," I said before Noah could try to talk me into it. "I'm not even going to consider it."

"Kenna!"

"No, and I mean it," I put my foot down. "I'm okay with saying no. In fact, I love the word. No, no, no."

"If you help him, he'll recommend you to all his friends," Noah informed me. "You know he has some serious connections."

"He said that?" I asked.

I wasn't convinced. It didn't seem like a very Brett thing to do. He was only ever interested in self-promotion.

"I mean, he should have recommended you all along," Noah clarified. "Especially while y'all were together."

"My thoughts exactly. He never supported my career. In fact, he mocked it," I said. "So, why now?"

"Because he needs someone he can trust," Noah said. "Again, his words, not mine."

"Isn't that convenient?" I laughed.

Noah sighed, "He's a self-serving man."

"I couldn't have said it any better myself," I said.

"Maybe have a little chat with him?" Noah suggested. "It doesn't mean you have to take him on as a client."

"No, you're right," I said. "We have a reputation to uphold. I'll talk to him."

"There's the badass businesswoman I know and love," Noah winked at me.

Contacting Brett was quite literally the last thing I wanted to do.

When our relationship ended, I told Brett I never wanted to see or hear from him again. My heart was heavy when I said it, but my words held power. As time crept by, I resented his memory even more. I had grown to despise him.

The months of heartache and anguish that followed our breakup took me to a dark place. I mourned our relationship for far longer than I should have. As the fog of grief slowly lifted, it became more evident to me that the life he offered was nothing more than a lie.

Each day I spent without him, the colors appeared brighter. Without his presence in my life, I began to remember who I was before him. Who I was at my core.

My vibrant spirit returned piece by piece like a puzzle being put back together. As each piece snapped into place, the old me slowly returned—the woman I was before he tainted me.

"Did you see I added a lunch to the calendar?" I asked Noah.

"I did see that! I was wondering if we could postpone it. Todd wanted to take me out to lunch today," he explained, his cheeks turning pink. "If that's okay, of course!"

Todd, Noah's husband, was an absolute dear. He traveled for work, so the time Todd spent at home was precious to them.

"Oh, my goodness, go with Todd!" I told Noah. "I didn't know he was in town! We can have lunch anytime."

"I can bring you back something to eat if you want," Noah offered.

"Don't worry about me!" I said. "I can order delivery. Come to think of it, you should take the whole day off. I know you need some Todd time."

"Oh, I couldn't do that," Noah said.

"You absolutely can, and you should. I think I can manage to answer the phone, and since you're so good at your job, I barely have any paperwork to go through," I explained. "Treat yourself, Noah. You work hard!"

"If you're sure," he was hesitant, but I could tell he was close to caving.

"Noah, go home. Have an amazing day," I told him. "Please!"

"Okay, okay," he finally gave in. "You call me the second you need me."

"I will!"

"I'm serious," he said. "Do not try to fix anything or mess with the office supplies."

I brought my right hand to my chest. "I'm offended. I fixed the printer last week!"

"After you broke it," he reminded me.

"Whatever," I waved him off.

"See you tomorrow, Kenna."

Of course, I broke the stupid Keurig coffee machine an hour after Noah left. I then spent most of my afternoon watching YouTube videos and trying to fix it.

Why could nothing just work?