Dr. Grant (Off-Limits)

“Well done, son,” Mr. Astor says. I smile at him, a sense of pride washing over me. He’s been working me to the bone all week. I’ve barely had time to sleep between work, the endless dinners and lunches he asks me to attend, and the site visits we’ve been doing together.

I didn’t expect him to be so involved in his new acquisitions, but he’s personally reviewed every single aspect of the three clinics we bought.

“I got the hang of it after the first two,” I tell him. He’s been teaching me what to look out for in acquisitions, how to negotiate, and how to put together a growth plan to turn businesses around and make them more profitable, which is ultimately what he wants for his portfolio.

“You won’t need me to accompany you anymore soon. I’ll leave you in charge of growing the business. I’d like to own another seven clinics in three months’ time. There’ll be a lot to learn.”

I nod, oddly nervous. He offered me a performance-based contract, meaning I get a cut of the profits of each of his clinics. The more profitable I can make them, the more I’ll earn.

“Working at the college clinic helps,” I tell him honestly. “Seeing how that’s run, being there to make operational changes and seeing how they impact the clinic… that type of hands-on experience is invaluable.”

He grins as he opens his car door, and I rush to get to the passenger door. He’s always been friendly, but I’m not crazy enough to get too comfortable with him. “I knew I was right to put my faith in you, Noah.”

I smile back at him in gratitude. “This opportunity you’re giving me, I’m beyond grateful for it, Mr. Astor.”

He shakes his head as he puts the car into gear. “You needn’t be, Noah. And call me Harold, please. We’re hardly strangers, are we?”

I nod, feeling a little out of place. My life has changed so much in the span of a few months. The trajectory I’m on isn’t one I could’ve ever gotten to by myself. No matter how hard I work, by myself this would never be achievable.

“It’s late. How about dinner at my place? You’d probably eat alone otherwise, wouldn’t you? Besides, my daughter has been asking about you. She’s convinced that I’m overworking you. I think it’d be good for her to see you.”

My first instinct is to decline. Dinner at his house means facing Amara. She and I haven’t spoken since that day at the vineyard. I haven’t seen her at all, but that hasn’t kept her off my mind. I’m trying to distance myself from her, but it seems like an impossible task.

Everything reminds me of her. She’s so deeply entrenched in my life. I can’t go to work without thinking of her in my office, I can’t go to the gym without thinking of the time I caught her crying in the rain, and then there’s her grandfather… she’s everywhere.

I’m absentminded by the time we get to the Astor mansion. I’m not ready to see her. I’ve only just about managed to convince myself to stay away, but I’m weak. One look at her and my resolve will crumble. I won’t be able to remind myself that I can never provide her with the life she has now. And if I give in, I’ll lose my only chance at an extraordinary future.

“You all right, son?”

I nod and force a smile onto my face as we walk toward the dining room. If Mr. Astor notices, he doesn’t say anything.

A pang of disappointment hits me right in the chest when I walk into the room to find that Amara isn’t there. It’s just her mother.

“Charlotte,” I say, greeting her. She rises from her seat and hugs me, startling me.

“How are you, sweetheart?” she asks, pulling out a seat for me the way my mother used to do. I stare at her in surprise, my heart twisting painfully. I’ve done a very good job at pushing down the pain that haunted me for so long, but every once in a while, something happens that reopens the wounds.

Charlotte smiles at me, but there’s a hint of worry in her eyes. I grit my teeth as I sit down. I’m trying, but I can’t recall what my mother’s laughter sounds like. The memories are fading, and it’s killing me.

“What’s wrong?” Charlotte asks, her tone higher than usual, a hint of panic in it.

I shake my head and force a smile onto my face. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry. For a moment, you reminded me of my mother.”

Her eyes widen, and she looks away in understanding. I know the Astors looked into me, into my background, so she knows how my parents were killed. I’m not after sympathy, though. It’s taken my sister and me years to heal as much of our battered hearts as we could, and I don’t want to take a step back.

“Excuse me for a minute,” I tell her, needing a moment to compose myself. As the years pass, it becomes easier to hang onto the good memories and to let go of the pain, but tonight I’m struggling. Maybe it’s the loneliness I’ve been feeling, maybe it’s the way both Charlotte and Harold have welcomed me into their family, each of them in their own way. Maybe it’s a combination of it all. Either way, the pain is hitting me hard tonight.

I look up in confusion when I realize where I am. I walked into Amara’s bedroom without thinking. It shouldn’t surprise me. This is, after all, where she took me last time. Besides, if I’m truly honest with myself, I’m longing for her tonight. I want her snark, her smiles.

I sit down on her bed and smile to myself. I can just imagine her lying here, testing out her toys. I wonder if she ever thinks of me.

My fingers trail over her pillow and my eyes fall closed. I wish I could have her in my arms tonight. Falling asleep with her, what would that be like?

I tense when her bedroom door opens. Amara gasps, her initial shock quickly making way for confusion.

“Noah,” she murmurs, and the way she says my name tugs at my broken heart. I drink her in, my eyes roaming over her body. She looks beautiful tonight. “What are you doing here?”

I rise from her bed and cross the room, pausing right in front of her. “Your grandfather invited me over for dinner.”

She looks into my eyes, and the look in her eyes soothes my soul. “That doesn’t explain why you’re in my bedroom.”

My eyes drop to her lips, and I grit my teeth when I notice the edges of her lipstick are smudged. I cup her face and brush my thumb over the barely visible stains. She tenses underneath my touch, her eyes widening.

“Where were you tonight?” I ask, unable to keep the question buried.

She blinks and looks away, as though she can’t face me. I laugh humorlessly and let go of her, taking a step away. I’ve been fucked up over her, and all the while I thought she felt the same way. I guess I was wrong.

“I apologize for intruding,” I tell her, pasting on my physician-face.

I move to walk past her, but before I can, she grabs my hand. “Noah,” she whispers, and I stop in my tracks.