Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

H E SAT IN HIS car and stared straight ahead, his blood pounding in a way that was new and different, as Louisa's words replayed through his mind.

He refused to accept that this was the end.

It couldn't be.

Everything was so great with them. It had been so great, the night before. He had loved seeing her in his house. All he could think, as they'd eaten dinner on the terrace, was how right she seemed in the home that had been a part of his family for generations. How much he wanted to do this more.

But then, he saw her face, and he heard her plea, at the end. If this hurts me, I just don't think I can take it. There was no way he could ignore that. She was begging him to give her time and space, she was begging him to back off. She was right about one thing—everything between them had become really serious, really fast. Without their noticing it. Case in point: the idea of having a night without seeing Louisa was anathema to Noah. That wasn't right. Not for what they were. From the beginning, they'd expressed their limitations. He knew she was new to town, and not here permanently, and he'd been clear about his responsibilities to Taylor.

Nothing had changed, even when it all seemed so different.

He groaned into the car and slammed his palm against the steering wheel. What choice did he have? Taylor was his daughter; she came first.

But…other single parents dated. Other single parents allowed themselves to have a life of their own, too. Maybe he was doing Taylor a disservice by not giving her credit of being able to accept this? Or maybe he was wrong to make his whole existence revolve around her, setting her up with unrealistic expectations for the rest of her life?

He expelled an angry breath, took one last look at Louisa's front door and then pulled out from the kerb. Nothing was going to be solved by sitting still. He needed to think. Or maybe he needed a second opinion.

"Fox," the voice, as familiar to Noah as his own, came through his car speakers after three rings.

"Hey, it's me," Noah said, unnecessarily. "Got a sec?"

"Is everything okay?" Max Fox asked. "It's early."

"Shit, yeah. I forgot the time difference." Max was over in Perth, overseeing one of the Fox family pearl farms. "Were you sleeping?"

Max laughed. "No. What's up? All good?"

"Not exactly."

"Is it Mum and Dad?"

"No, no."

"Taylor."

"No," Noah laughed, despite the gloom of his mood. "And yes. Kind of."

"What's happened?"

Noah gripped the steering wheel a little more tightly, and then gave Max the discreet, PG version of events. Max listened to the whole thing, without interjecting.

Then, "So you like her?"

He thought of Louisa and something in the region of his heart panged. "Yeah."

"Really like her?"

Noah pulled up at a set of lights and stared straight ahead. His mind was full of Louisa. "Yes, but she's pretty adamant that it needs to stop."

"Because you made her feel like an outsider," Max said. "No woman you've been treating like a partner suddenly wants to feel like they don't belong."

Noah frowned. "I didn't mean—it was just Taylor?—,"

"Oh, we'll talk about Taylor's choices later," Max grunted. He'd always hated Amy and had been very wary of the other woman's influence on Taylor. "But in the meantime, you have to work out what you want. If you think that's Louisa, in any capacity, then you can't run around behind Taylor's back indefinitely. And nor should you. She's fifteen, not five. She can handle the thought of her dad dating some other woman."

"I don't know if she can."

"She has to. You and Amy broke up, effectively, years ago. And with very good reason. Taylor can't keep living in a fantasy land of her mother being a perfect angel."

Noah considered that. "Amy's not a bad person, Max."

"No, she's a sick person, and you have done everything you possibly can to help her get better, and to keep your daughter safe in the meantime. But you're allowed to have a girlfriend, Noah. You're allowed to have a life." Max sighed into the phone. "If Taylor was still a little girl, I'd be all for the decisions you're making to insulate her from reality. But she's fifteen and capable of understanding the nuances of adulthood."

The lights changed and Noah accelerated through the intersection, mulling on that. "I guess there's sense to what you're saying."

"Damn straight. So, tell me more about Louisa."

And Noah smiled because he didn't know where to start. She was the first woman he'd actually felt this way for. He'd met Amy so young, and then they'd had Taylor. After he'd left Amy, he'd put all his energy into being a father, so in effect, Louisa was the first woman he'd actually cared for and wanted to pursue. "I like her," he said, simply. "I like everything about her, from the way she is to the way she makes me feel. I don't want to stop seeing her."

"Then you need to talk to Taylor, and Louisa. And I'm here for you, man. Any time."

Noah disconnected the call with a renewed sense of purpose, as he drove through the streets of Sydney, towards his home.

Taylor woke sometime after lunch, her skin ashen, hair a mess, eyes determinedly dodging Noah's. He handed her another piece of vegemite toast and watched while she ate it, then drank some orange juice.

"Better?"

"Yeah," her voice was a little hoarse. "I—thank you for last night."

He arched a brow.

"For coming to get me. And being so cool about it. I freaked out."

He nodded slowly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Her eyes met his and then fired away quickly. She shook her head. "It's too hard to explain."

"Nothing happened I need to know about?"

She bit into her lip and shook her head.

"Okay," he accepted that at face value, though he suspected there was more to it. He didn't want to push. No, that wasn't right. Noah knew, instinctively, that if he were to push, Taylor would push back. Or shut down. He took a page out of Max's book. "I'm here any time you want to talk."

He half expected an acerbic rejoinder, but to his surprise, and relief, Taylor simply nodded tightly, her fingers toying with a crust of toast.

"So," she said, glancing up at him again and then away. "Who is she?"

Noah felt all his senses tighten. He was on the edge of a precipice, and he had no idea what was beneath him. But he knew he had to jump, to take that risk.

"Her name's Louisa."

"Louisa," Taylor said, with a hint of her now-standard acidity. He bristled to hear Louisa's name spoken with anything like disrespect, but in fact, it only motivated him to keep going.

"Look, Tay, your mom is the only woman I've ever been serious about, but you're the best thing about our relationship. We didn't make each other happy, and our marriage broke down a really long time ago. If it weren't for you, we probably wouldn't have lasted about a year," he said, being brutally honest.

Taylor stared at her toast crust like it was a new form of human.

"I haven't been with anyone since her. I haven't been interested in dating, because being your dad is kind of it for me right now. But then, I met Louisa, and it just happened really quickly."

"What are you trying to tell me, Dad? Are you…is she moving in?"

He looked across the room and visions of Louisa here, in his house, treating it as their house, made his blood fire with warmth and speed, but he shook his head quickly. If that were to happen, it was a million miles from where they were now.

"I don't know what the future holds," he said, choosing not to make a promise either way. "But I know that I like her and that she makes me happy, and that I want to keep seeing her."

"Right." Taylor's features were pinched, and her fingers shook a little.

"Nothing will ever change between us, Tay. You're my daughter, and I love you more than life itself."

"But I don't make you happy."

Not lately, no, he felt like saying. "There are different kinds of happy," he said, after a beat. "This is a very grown up?—,"

"I'm not a kid, Dad. Clearly, you're sleeping with her, I get it."

He stared at his daughter, who had become a young adult without his really realizing that, lips parted. "I wasn't referring to sex," he responded, treating her like the mature adult she clearly wanted to be. "I just mean, when you're grown up and you date someone, and they're right for you in so many ways, it kind of feels like you're walking on air."

Taylor stood up abruptly. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want to keep seeing her."

"That's not my decision."

"Yes, it is."

She stared at him.

"You're my daughter, and I swore, the day you were born, that I would do absolutely everything I could for you. Always. That I would sacrifice anything. And as much as I enjoy spending time with Louisa, if you hate the idea, then that will be it." He felt a stitch of pain deep in his gut when he thought of never seeing Louisa romantically again. "But if you would at least give this a try, see how you feel about her, and having her in both our lives…"

"I have a mother." She wrapped her arms around her torso. "I know you're trying to wipe her out of my life, but she's real. She's mine. She loves me."

"I know she loves you," Noah said, aware that this was suddenly going very badly. "And Louisa would never try to take her place." Hell, he didn't even know what Louisa wanted. "But if she's in my life, I think she has to be in your life, to some degree. I don't want to hide someone important from you."

"Important," Taylor repeated, as though he'd just threatened to kill a kitten.

"Yes, important." It was the perfect way to describe Louisa. "I don't know what our future holds. She's probably going to go back to Moricosia at some point, but while she's here, in Sydney, I want to be with her."

"God, Dad. This is…I don't need this today."

"Yeah, and I didn't need that last night," he said, then wished, immediately, that he could take the words back, because Taylor's face flashed with guilt, and he had no idea what had actually gone down at the party, only that it must have been serious for his daughter to reach out to him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. You can always call me. Anytime you need me, I promise you that."

She looked like she wanted to fight him, but in light of the fact he had gone to collect her the night before, without judgement or reprimand, the reality was at least on his side.

"I really don't care," she snapped. "If you want to hook up with half of Sydney, go right ahead. It's your life, not mine." And she stormed from the room, slamming her door for good measure.

Noah didn't go to work that day, and even though Louisa was glad not to have to see him again after that morning, she felt his absence like a spreading bruise, deep in her flesh. Every time the door to her office opened, she looked up and expected to find him striding in. Memories of how they worked together—zigging and zagging in unison—were thick in her mind.

But so was the reality of the night before, and how right she'd been to end it.

She'd hated how it had felt to be on the periphery of his life. Suddenly, the fact that he was a father, and she didn't belong in his family had cut her to the very heart of her being. Because she'd wanted to belong. She'd wanted to be a part of his life. All of it.

Tears threatened and she swallowed quickly, glancing at the clock across the room. Usually, she'd stay another hour, but it was already well past five. She packed up her desk efficiently, moved out of the office, and said good night to Rose on her way to the elevators.

"Oh, Louisa," Rose called. "Noah asked me to give you a message."

Louisa froze, her heart leaping into her throat as she turned around, doing her best to maintain a serene appearance.

"Oh?"

"He asked you to meet him at the hotel. He wants to show you some of the facilities, for advertising purposes. There's a car waiting downstairs."

Louisa stared at Rose, waiting for the words to filter through her brain and then to fully make sense, but in truth, she was totally confused. And uncertain.

Was this actually about work? Or was he going to pick up where they left off that morning? And which of those did she want it to be?

She didn't know, she realized, as the lift cruised downwards, and her heart kept racing and throbbing in her chest. So, she decided to go, to see what he had to say. She could always leave again right away. It didn't hurt—much—just to listen.

She'd seen a hundred photos of the hotel, but walking into it was like something else. The opulence was so phenomenal and yet comfortable at the same time. Her heels clicked as she crossed the polished marble floor, looking around for Noah. A man in a formal suit approached her. While it was a warm evening outside, in the Fox hotel, the temperature was perfectly comfortable—perhaps even a little cool.

"Miss Petrakis?"

She stopped walking, eyes narrowing as she regarded the concierge.

"Yes?"

"Mr Fox is waiting for you."

Of course he was. She compressed her lips. "Where?"

"This way, please."

She followed the man across the foyer, towards the bank of elevators. With a press of a button, the doors opened. The man swiped a card, then smiled at her as he stepped out of the elevator. A moment later, it was whooshing upwards. Louisa pressed her back against the glass, trying to steady her nerves, to calm herself, to brace for whatever was coming. But that was hard to do when you had no idea if this was going to be business or pleasure.

From the outset, they'd promised that the personal side of things wouldn't get in the way of the professional, and she knew she had to hold to that pledge. But in that moment, her personal feelings were making it hard to focus purely on the business.

She was torn between what she wanted, and what she needed. What she wanted? Noah. What she needed? To be smart, and to protect herself.

The doors pinged open and when she stepped out, Noah was, as the concierge had said, waiting. Wearing jeans and a T-shirt, with his hair swept back from his brow, and his feet bare, in what was clearly a penthouse.

Filled with roses.

Her pulse gushed in her ears.

"Hi," he said, his smile a little uncertain. "Thanks for coming."

She nodded once. "Rose said you wanted to show me the facilities. For advertising purposes?"

"Well, there's that too," he admitted. "But really, I wanted to talk to you."

Her eyes swept shut. She was happier than she should have been about that. But her self-defenses came to the fore. "I think we said it all this morning?—,"

"No, you spoke, and I listened, and I've thought about what you said all day, and I have some things I'd like to say back."

She stared at him, eyes wide.

That was fair enough, wasn't it?

"You were right. I wasn't prepared for last night, and I didn't know how to handle it."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"Yes, I did. I shouldn't have woken you. You're someone in my life, and I like having you in my life. And instead of accepting that Taylor would need to learn about you, and get over her first reaction, I pandered to it and tried to hide you. Like I was ashamed of you, or something. Which, for the record, could not be further from the truth." He took a step towards her, then stopped, pushing his fingers through his hair so the once neat style was now messy in a way that, of course, made him look even better.

"I have spent so long looking at everything through the lens of being Taylor's dad that I totally failed you. I forgot that I'm also," he paused, staring at her, shaking his head a little then smiling. "I'm yours, too."

"Mine," she whispered, twisting her hands in front of her, emotions swelling.

"Yes. All yours." He shrugged. "I know this is fast, but I love spending time with you, and I don't want us to walk away from this. Not because of Taylor. If you're over me, if you're still in love with Ares, or you want to go home, or whatever, then those are all perfectly valid reasons to end this. But if you care about me like I care about you, then please—be patient with me while I work this out. I'm going to make mistakes, but never doubt how much I want you, Louisa."

Her eyes swept shut because it was just too, too much. It was everything she wanted to hear. Somehow, he'd known exactly the right tone to strike. A balance between honesty and promises.

"How does this work?" she asked, quietly.

His eyes met hers and clung there. "We take it one day at a time."

She nodded slowly. "I still don't want the press?—,"

"I agree. We'll keep it low profile. But I want you to come to my house. Meet Taylor—even though I freely admit she's not particularly pleasant to be around right now. She's still my daughter, and I want her to know you. Because you matter to me, Louisa. You really, really matter to me."

Her eyes swept shut and she tried not to think about how no one had ever quite made her feel that way before. How this was all so different and new. And perfect, despite its imperfections. She moved forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him with all of the emotions she'd been feeling that day, kissing him for so long that she didn't realise she was crying as well, until she tasted salt and pulled away from him.

His look was one of concern.

"Happy tears," she promised. And she was happy. In that moment, in the perfect bubble they'd created, her happiness was pure and easy. She had no idea if that would last in the real world, but she was going to make the most of it for now.