International Player(18)

How could I say no?





Nine





Truly


What Noah had said the night before was right—big donors wanted to feel special, to deal with someone with the Harbury name. He just didn’t know how difficult it would be for me, how anxiety-inducing it was. I’d almost slipped into a panic attack, but the hairdresser arriving had distracted me just in time. I hadn’t had an attack in years—not since my short-lived membership of the debate society at university. Even now I was having to concentrate on my breathing. I knew sending Kelly or Mason was potentially destructive, but fear bubbled to the surface every time I thought about having to do what my beautiful, charming sister did so effortlessly. I wasn’t her. I’d never be her. I played to my strengths, which were few and far between. Abigail played to hers, and she could do almost everything.

And the idea of turning my team over to someone else? I hated the thought. The likelihood was that I’d fail at schmoozing donors and the back-office departments I was in charge of would collapse. Abigail would come back, and I’d have burned the place to the ground.

I couldn’t help it, my breathing became choppy and uneven and I pushed my chair out from my desk and leaned forward, resting my head between my knees. I had just about managed to get through lunch today. But presentations? Galas? Lunches and dinners with more people? Disaster was lurking behind every corner.

My phone buzzed and I ignored it. I needed a moment.

I tried to pull in a breath for three counts like I’d seen in films.

In, two, three, out, two. Shit. I tried again. In, two, three, out, two, three. It wasn’t helping. My heart was hammering against my chest, my palms were sweaty, and images of hundreds and hundreds of faces staring at me flashed into my head.

I ignored the knock on my office door. I was too concerned about what was happening to me. Was it possible to have a heart attack at twenty-eight?

“Truly,” a familiar, male voice called.

I couldn’t look up. Couldn’t even open my eyes.

Warm hands covered my knees and body heat radiated in front of me. “Are you okay? Take a breath.”

What was Noah doing here?

I nodded, still counting my breath. As if he was familiar with the technique, he began counting along with me. “Out, two, three. In, two, three. Out, two, three.”

His voice was calming. The counting hadn’t worked when I’d done it alone, but hearing him counting too helped me settle into a rhythm.

Eventually, his hands slid from my knees, and I sat up and opened my eyes, right into his.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

I was such an idiot. A mess. And this was why Noah and I had only ever been friends. He was used to seeing me in no makeup with a smear of kung pao chicken on my face. And now I was panicking about a meeting that he would think nothing of. Yes, Noah only ever saw me at my absolute worst.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. I didn’t want him to see me like this.

“Do you want some water?” He stood and poured me a glass of sparkling water from the bottle on my desk.

“Thanks.” I took a sip and sat back in my chair.

“I came to talk to you. Apologize if I seemed harsh last night. I’m sorry if I made this worse, Truly.”

I cleared my throat. “I’m fine. Just a little . . .” I watched as he slid into the chair opposite my desk, his long legs unfurling in front of him. “I just have a lot to do.”

He nodded, steepling his fingers. “And I’m here to help.”

I stared over his shoulder, trying to figure out how to respond. I thought he might forget about Rob’s suggestion of being my personal consultant. At least I was hoping he would. The last thing I wanted was to be forced to spend time with someone who I found impossibly attractive. “I’ll be fine. I just need to adjust.”

“I totally agree,” he said.

“Oh. Well, that’s settled. Thank you for your offer.”

“But until you are fine, until you adjust, perhaps I could help.”

I groaned. “That’s really nice of you, Noah, but Rob shouldn’t have asked you—this isn’t your problem.”

“Rob wasn’t wrong. I do have a little more time than usual as I ramp up my next project, so I have the capacity to do this.”

“I don’t know what you think ‘this’ is, but we have it handled. It’s all going to be fine.” Perhaps one of the girls in the office could help me with clothes for future events. And although I was sure Noah would be helpful in lots of circumstances, I didn’t want to spend any more time with him than absolutely necessary. I was a grown woman. I didn’t have time for crushes.

“Truly, I just walked in to find you having a panic attack. Please—let me help you.”

As much as I wanted to say yes, I didn’t want to fall for him all over again, knowing I would only ever be a friend to him. It was too painful. Too much of a reminder that I would never be enough. I’d always be the less pretty, the less charming, the less loveable twin. “It’s really nice of you to offer but really, you—”

“I can come to some of the meetings where you don’t know the donors, help you work on your presentations, attend the dinners with you. Just until you feel more confident.”