International Player(20)

“And you’ll be there, right?” She leafed through her slides. I’d never seen her so uncertain, so questioning of herself. She was usually so confident in her opinions and decisions. This more vulnerable side of her was new, and I found it drew me to her, motivated me to ensure she was completely prepared to take on this new role.

“You want me to come into the presentation with you?”

“Of course. You can’t just send me into the lion’s den on my own.”

I chuckled. “It’s hardly the lion’s den.” She glanced up, concern crossing her face. “But if that’s what you need then sure. It’s at three tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Once you’ve done one of these, the rest will get easier. It’s always the same content, right?”

“Mostly. We have variations for new donors and repeat, then we tailor those to high net-worth individuals versus corporations.”

“Good. Once you nail the first one, it’ll only get easier. So make sure you wear something you’re comfortable in and—”

She groaned. “I tried to get that curry stain out and it didn’t work. And I found a hole in my good pair of black trousers.”

“So, shopping is a priority for you.”

“Shopping is never a priority for me.”

Truly had the exact same attitude about clothes that I did. They were functional. Something you put on so you weren’t cold or naked. “I can make a call. Have a stylist pick out some outfits for you.”

“Oh God, a stylist? They’ll have me wearing jumpsuits, blue lipstick, and over-the-thigh boots.”

“Thigh-high boots might not be such a bad thing.” I grinned at her. She’d look fucking phenomenal in a short skirt, red lips, and boots that hit mid-thigh.

She scrunched up a piece of paper and threw it at me.

“What? I’m a straight guy with a pulse. You put it out there.”

“Seriously. Stylists just want you to spend a lot of money you don’t have and dress you in things that are fashionable on the hanger but look ridiculous in real life.”

“Truly,” I growled. “I told you, you need to trust me. I’ll get her to call you, and she can arrange something for tomorrow and then going forward, we’ll go and see her together to put a working wardrobe together. I’ll be honest and tell you if I think it doesn’t suit you.”

She paused, as if she didn’t know whether or not she was going to accept. “I could really use your help, but I don’t know how I can repay you. First, you were there to help with Abi, and now with this. It seems like each time I have a problem, you come and unknot it.”

I didn’t understand why that was an issue. “That’s what I’m here for. And, yes, the rehab center is important to me too but . . . I want to help you.”

She groaned, as if my response was the last thing she wanted to hear, and headed to the door.

“I’ll let you know about the stylist.”

She nodded and forced a smile. “Thanks. I do really appreciate all this. It’s just . . . a lot. The speech. The clothes. You.” She shook her head. “Anyway. Thanks.”

She swept out, leaving me in the meeting room, not quite understanding what had just happened. Why had she mentioned me as one of the things worrying her?

I pulled out my phone and dialed Veronica’s number. Truly was right—I was here, unknotting her problems. But that’s what I was good at. She needed my help. Those kids at the rehab center needed my help.

Truly liked to stay in her comfort zone, but I’d never realized how uncomfortable she was accepting assistance. She’d have to get over it. I wasn’t going anywhere until that twenty-five-million-pound target was met, and Truly knew she was more than capable of filling her sister’s shoes.





Eleven





Truly


I never understood people who said their hands shook with nerves. It had never happened to me. Until today. I held out my arms, palms down, and then snatched them back and sat on them, not wanting to see how they shook in front of me. There was so much resting on today. The future of the foundation—all those kids at the rehab center. It was like a mountain of pressure and expectation bearing down on my chest.

“Come in,” I yelled at a knock on my office door. I usually kept it open, but I hadn’t wanted anyone to witness my freaking out.

Noah appeared in the doorway and I exhaled, instantly feeling a little better. And then I groaned. Seeing Noah shouldn’t make me feel better. I was trying not to fall down that particular rabbit hole. He was insanely good-looking in his navy suit and a dark-pink tie. Jesus, he never looked like anything other than male model material, but couldn’t he have toned it down for today rather than turn up the volume? For my sake? The blue brought out his eyes and his crisp white shirt emphasized his long, tan neck. He looked like he should be making deals in New York City, not helping out in some tumbledown office in Shepherd’s Bush.

“How are you doing? Do you need a paper bag?”

“No, but if you have a glass of wine, I’ll take it. Seriously, Noah, I don’t think I can go through with this.”

“It’s too late to back out now.” He glanced at his watch. “People will be arriving any minute.”