How to Love Your Neighbour(81)

She laughed. Here and now. Focus on that. “It is a good thing. A great thing.”

When they got back to his place, she wondered if it was presumptuous to head to his bedroom. It’d become routine, but maybe he wanted some space, especially if he had an early meeting. Before she could ask him, Noah pulled her into a deep, thought-dissolving kiss. When he pulled back, smoothed a hand down her hair, he asked, “You need to grab anything from your place or are we good to head to bed?”

Her heart filled like a balloon. Looks like it’s okay to be presumptuous.

She wrapped her arms around him. “I have everything I need right here.”





37


Noah wanted a real office space. He loved what Grace designed, and if he was paying bills or sending emails, it worked. But he wanted to get up in the morning and go into the office. He finished up his second meeting of the day before texting Josh.

Noah

Keep looking for a space to lease or buy. I’m losing home field advantage every time. It’s pissing me off.

Josh

On it, boss. Don’t like doing it from home?



Noah liked the house a lot. Loved the way the space was coming together, but with everything else going on, it wasn’t conducive to working.

Noah

It’s not working.

Josh

I’ll have a list of places for you by the end of the day. Did the meetings so far go okay?



Noah frowned, reminded of how similar the outcomes of both had been. He’d had these guys. They wanted his investment, his name. These meetings were supposed to be formalities, deal closers. But both companies had gone “a different direction.” Was it him? Were these guys picking up on the fact that his priorities were shifting? He spent more time thinking about his house, the community center, and office space than investments. People could read passion. Was his dimming visibly?

Noah

Not great. I’m going to get ready to go golfing and hope I can get Sergio and his friends to invest in the community center. Keep your fingers crossed.

Josh

Skalifajarioelald.



Noah scrunched his eyes, brought his phone closer to his face. Leaning against his truck, he typed his response.

Noah

WTF?

Josh

That’s how I text with my fingers crossed.



Noah laughed out loud. Shit. He had a good assistant. He absolutely did not feel like laughing or even smiling right now, but Josh had found a way. Weird how he’d gone his whole life thinking he had more than enough people in his circle. Now that it’d expanded considerably, he wondered how it would feel without them. Thinking of being without Grace made him feel like he was putting on a sandy wet suit. Inside out and backward.

Noah

Gotta go. Thanks for the laugh.



He got into his truck, headed to the highway, replaying the meetings in his mind. When they used the line “We’ve decided to go in another direction,” it translated to “We found someone to give us a better interest rate, cut a better deal.” The question was, who was cutting the deals, because what Noah offered was pretty great. He was trying to establish himself here in a multitude of ways, but he had a strong reputation and, truthfully, thought it would be easier.

In New York, he’d had his hands in corporate and personal real estate. He flipped properties, invested capital, acted as a liaison for purchases. Since coming to LA, his focus had shifted, downsized in a sense. He’d lost three out of four of the investment property bids he’d made. He wasn’t even sure if he was pissed about the opportunities so much as that he kept losing.

He was working on a proposal to build a new community center between San Verde and Harlow Beach. He’d always wanted to find a way to honor his grandfather’s vision. Under his father’s watchful eye and tight fist, he hadn’t been able to. That was pulling his attention hard right now, but it shouldn’t be impacting his sales pitch for investments. Something else was going on.

His phone rang as he hit the highway. Seeing the ocean to his left filled him with a sense of calm. Tapping the Bluetooth, he answered.

“Hey. It’s Wes. What are you up to?”

“Heading out to golf with Sergio-stick-up-his-ass.”

“I was going to ask how that was going. Not well, I take it?”

“I don’t know. I’m completely off my game.”

“Weird. I know he’s looking for people to invest with.” As usual, Wes’s tone was thoughtful.

Noah spoke before he could change his mind. “Maybe I read him wrong. Instead of pitching things I normally would, I’ve asked for help funding a community center.”

Silence. He gripped the wheel tighter.

“That’s unexpected.”

Right. Because he was the family fun guy. Not responsible like Chris or logical like Wes. He was impulsive, acted on his gut. I can be more than that. He started to say that but Wes spoke.

“Why wouldn’t you talk to Chris and me about this? It’s an opportunity to add to our portfolio—we could think about starting a nonprofit. But more than that, it reminds me of something Gramps would do.”

Like he’d punched him in the solar plexus, his brother’s words stole his breath. Why hadn’t he trusted them enough to open up?