One Last Time(26)

I’m going to have an exclusive for my first interview. Oh, my could-be-my-child boss will be happy.

“There’s someone I have feelings for.” Noah grins.

“Care to comment more?” I urge.

“No.” He taps his fingers and falls silent.

Well, that sucks. I needed more to make it really juicy.

“Okay, we’re off the record.” I turn my recorder off and put the pen down. I hate that he’s going to say something, and I can’t write about it.

“I’m looking at her.” Noah pulls his hand back, grabs his beer, and smiles before taking a drink.

My lips part and I don’t say a word. Me? He’s crazy. I’m the awkward friend of his friend’s girlfriend who got drunk and passed out. I’m the nut job who pulled him into a pool, and he got stuck dealing with. I’m the unprofessional crazy lady he had to go out of the way to have dinner with because I failed the first time we met.

He must be joking. Maybe this is some kind of celebrity hazing experiment.

Screw with the new journalist.

That has to be it. Because I am a frumpy old housewife who couldn’t keep her husband satisfied.

“Did Heather put you up to this? Or Eli, because I called him old the other day?”

“No.”

I lean back as the air pushes from my lungs. “You don’t even know me. Other than I’m clearly a mess.”

Noah pushes his sleeves up and rests his arms on the table. “I know that even after Eli and Heather tried to warn me off, I couldn’t wait to pick you up for our date.”

“Working. Dinner.”

Maybe he has a memory condition and he doesn’t realize who I am.

“Semantics.” He smirks.

Oh, Jesus. Heather’s texts now make sense. She knew he was interested or whatever. Why he would even consider wanting to get to know me is baffling.

“Noah, you don’t know me. Trust me, I’m the last person you would ever want to think about. I’m going through what I can only assume will be a nasty divorce. I’m a single mom, who clearly can’t hold her liquor, and my job is to write gossip about you. Oh, and I can’t sing for shit.”

I figure it’s best to lay it all out.

I am the last person he should ever want to date.

Noah smirks before running his hand through his thick, dark hair. “Well, when you put it that way . . .”

A short laugh escapes me, and I look at my hands. “With the never-ending line of actresses dying to get with you, it’s crazy that you even blink twice at a hot mess like me. I’m no one special.”

“Hey.” He waits for me to look up from my hands before he continues, “We’re all messes. If you think anyone in Hollywood has it together, you’re wrong. I haven’t had a girlfriend in almost fifteen years, and I’m not asking you to date me. Heather already threatened to castrate me if I tried.”

There’s my best friend I know and love.

“But I won’t lie, I’m attracted to you, and if all we’ll ever be is friends . . . I’m okay with that.”

His words wash over me, and I’m not sure how to respond. It’s clear that I’m attracted to him, but then again, any sane woman would be. He’s Adonis . . . on crack.

And he’s one drug I’d like to be addicted to.

Instead of saying any of that, I lean forward, mimicking his position. “We can’t really be friends, can we? It’s my job to write stories about your life.”

He shrugs. “It means you’ll be around a lot. Lots of time to win you over.”

Okay, that’s going to be a problem I didn’t even consider.

“More like realizing you need a therapist more than I do.”

Noah leans closer. “Maybe, or you’ll see I’m just a normal guy.”

I laugh. “Yes, normal. Because most guys are on the cover of People and GQ?”

“In my world.”

“Yes, but I’m not from your world. I live in a world filled with bills, kids, an asshole ex, and a boss who thinks adding an emoji on every article gives it pizazz.”

He smiles while shaking his head. “She sounds interesting.”

“You have no idea.” I sigh. “She’s making a meditation room so that we can find our center when we feel stressed. According to her, my aura is messed up, and she wants to cleanse it. Whatever the hell that means.”

Noah extends his hand across the table and touches my wrist. “I’m not asking for—”

“Kristin? Is that you?” I look up to see Scott’s assistant, Jillian standing there. Her eyes move from me to Noah, and I quickly pull my hand back.

“Hi, Jill. Long time no see.” I stand and give her a hug. “This is Noah Frazier. I’m writing an article on him for my new job. Noah, this is Jillian Cruger, she’s my husb—ex-husband’s assistant.”

Her cheeks flush, and she giggles. “Of course. Nice to meet you. I’m a huge fan.”

Noah shakes her hand and gives her a smile I haven’t seen before. It’s forced and almost looks fake. “Thank you. It’s great to meet you.”

She looks back to me and touches my arm. “I’m so sorry to hear about the divorce. Scott told me a few months ago, and I was so sad for you guys. I thought about calling you, but that would be really awkward.”