Chapter Three

Noah – Before

 

Noah didn’t want to be here. A summons from his father, Martin Worthington, was never a good sign. And this was the second summons in fewer than thirty days.

He tied his shoes and smoothed out his tux. Just get it over with.

He walked down to the drawing room where his father was already entertaining. His father had promised that there would be only a few guests.

A few guests to his father could be five or a hundred.

Noah saw his mother fussing with a flower arrangement, her blonde hair in a simple updo. She was elegant in a dark-blue sheath dress.

“Noah,” she said, hugging him. His mother hadn’t come from money. She’d been a self-employed florist until his father had swept into her life and given her a fairytale romance – at least for a while.

Noah knew he wasn’t supposed to be an only child. But he had been. His mother wouldn’t talk about it. Whenever the topic came up, his mother had a haunted look in her eyes, and his father turned away in silence.

Always silence when he was displeased.

Growing up, Noah had loved it when his father was away on business. Without his father there, he and his mother would binge on pizza and movies. Sometimes she would even play video games with him. Of course, when he’d hit his teenage years, he’d chosen to do things with his friends.

Nonetheless, his mother was always the one he could talk to.

“What’s Dad up to?” he asked.

His mother kept her eyes on the flowers. “Just his usual,” she said. “Everything is a business deal.”

“I can’t imagine why that would require a summons for me.”

He expected his mother’s usual It’s not a summons, dear, he just wants to see you. Instead, she said, “He’s getting older. I think he’s trying to get everything in order.”

Noah glanced at his father, his head bent in deep conversation with another man a little older than he. “Dad? Older? He’d never admit to that.”

“Whether he admits to it or not, it’s inevitable for all of us.”

Before he could question his mother further, his father spotted him and called him over. “Noah, get over here. This is Mr. Henry Beauchamp. We’ve been friends since we were in high school.”

“Really?” Noah shook the older man’s hand. “I’m surprised we haven’t met.”

“Mr. Beauchamp moved to California shortly after high school and we lost touch for a few years.”

“Have you moved back, then?” Noah asked.

“Oh no. Just expanding a business venture back this way.”

“Oh, well, Dad is the one to meet with on that.”

His father laughed, but even to Noah, it had sounded a little nervous.

“My wife will be here shortly,” Henry said. “It was good of you to have us for dinner.”

“You’re welcome here anytime,” his father said.

“Your father tells me you’re a pilot,” Henry said.

“I am,” Noah said. “I’ll have my degree by the end of the month and I have several job options available.”

The two older men exchanged looks.

Noah no longer questioned his father. The two of them weren’t close. Martin made sure Noah remembered that he was the son and Martin was the father.

“That should make you invaluable to the family business,” Henry commented.

“Why don’t you make yourself a drink, Noah?” his father suggested.

“I apologize,” Henry said, “I would never keep a man from his evening cocktail.”

Noah obediently left the men and went to the well-stocked bar across the room. He dismissed the men’s conversation. His father’s business, really, was no concern of his. He was a pilot and would soon be flying for one of the larger airlines.

This party, it seemed, was going to be smaller than his father’s usual. Noah was still perplexed about why his father had asked him to come tonight. He hadn’t overly questioned it, however, because it had given him an opportunity to fly. And any opportunity to fly was always welcome in his book.

Noah poured scotch into a glass and added ice. He wondered what Savannah was doing. Checked his watch and thought about calling her. He looked around for his mother, but she had disappeared.

Noah took his glass and went out on the veranda. There was a cool breeze at the moment. Summer had yet to take full root. But it wouldn’t be long before the summer heat would be unbearable.

He had wanted to bring Savannah. He wanted to bring her everywhere. In fact, he would have brought her, but something in his father’s voice had alarmed him. That alarm coupled with Savannah’s pending final exams had kept him from pushing at her to come along.

It was just as well, he thought. Savannah knew him as the laid-back college student majoring in aviation who had an occasional beer.

She would not know him as this man who wore a tux to an everyday business dinner meeting with his family and drank scotch from what she would call fancy crystal glasses. And had dinner in a dining room twice the size of her whole dorm common room.

Female voices caught his attention, and he turned his thoughts back to the present. Whatever it was his father wanted, he was waiting until morning to discuss it with Noah. I could have flown in tomorrow morning and missed all this. For some reason, his father seemed to enjoy torturing him whenever he had the opportunity.

Hearing his father call his name, he went back inside and stood watching for a moment.

Two women had entered the room. One appeared to be Henry’s wife – a brunette with shoulder-length hair, but it was the other that sent the hairs standing up along his nape.

She was a tall blonde, with long, straight hair, and a pretty smile. She was young – about Noah’s age – and wore a seductive red dress with matching red heels. Even her lips, curved into a bow, were red.

Noah’s first impression was trouble.

“Noah,” his father insisted. “Come meet Claire.”

Noah stepped forward. Claire held out her hand, but with her palm down. It was the way women of wealth shook hands with men. Noah imagined that older men actually would kiss the lady’s hand.

Savannah would have laughed. And said that Claire would never make it in the business world. What she wouldn’t have understood was that Claire would never have to make it in the traditional business world. This was her world. And this was how she would make it.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Claire said.

“And I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you,” Noah admitted, after a brief touch of the girl’s hand.

“It seems our fathers have known each other our whole lives.”

Noah began to get a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“There’s plenty of time to get acquainted,” Noah’s mother, who had reappeared, stated. “Dinner is ready. Shall we?”

They went into the dining room. Noah was surprised that the dinner party included only six people. The alarm bells in his head were at full decibel as he was seated next to Claire at the table.

Nonetheless, the dinner conversation was pleasant enough. Claire and her mother talked about their flight from California and their day of shopping in Fort Worth.

Apparently, they found great humor in Texas styles. Nonetheless, they had each bought themselves a Texas cowboy hat as a souvenir.

“Where in California do you live?” Noah asked.

“Los Angeles,” Claire answered. “I can’t imagine living anywhere else. The climate is great and the food is good especially for me, being a vegan. I had trouble finding anything I could eat today.”

“Everything has beef in it,” Claire’s mother added.

“Imagine that,” Noah said, checking his watch under the table. He needed to call Savannah, but didn’t want to call too late. She liked to go to sleep early but had promised to wait up until after he called. “I guess that explains the salad and vegetables.”

“I guess it does,” Claire answered, her smile curved into a knowing bow.

After a few more minutes of inane conversation, Noah excused himself. “I have to make a call to someone back East,” he said, pushing his chair away from the table. “Please excuse me.”

He truly couldn’t get away fast enough. His father was obviously trying to push through a new deal, but he would have to do it on his own. He’d done it enough times before.

“Hi, love,” he said when Savannah answered.

“Hey,” she answered sleepily.

“I’m sorry it’s so late.”

“It’s not late. Studying makes me sleepy.”

“I know.”

“Did you find out what your father wanted?”

“No,” Noah said. “He had some guy over for a business meeting. I’m sure he’ll let me know tomorrow what he needed me for.”

“Maybe he just wanted to show off his son.”

“Not likely. That isn’t his style.”

“How’s your mother?” she asked.

“A little reserved,” he said.

“Hmm.”

“It seems a little odd, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t really know them all that well, but, well. . . yes.”

Noah smiled. That was one thing he loved about Savannah. She didn’t mind saying what she thought. Coupled with her high level of perceptiveness, he found she was one of the few people he actually enjoyed talking with.

They hung up, with Noah promising to call her in the morning.

Turns out his father wanted him up for breakfast. Whereas most of his friends’ fathers took them out duck or deer hunting or even fishing before daylight, Noah’s father took him to the country club for breakfast.

Noah had an ominous feeling that day.

“Son,” his father said, with next to no preamble after they ordered. “I want you to marry Claire.”

Noah felt the bottom fall out from under him.

The problem with his father was that Martin Worthington got what he wanted. And Noah knew that when his father wanted something, no matter how much he protested, it still happened.

“I don’t want to marry Claire. I’m going to marry Savannah.”

His father waved him off. “You can use the company plane to go see Savannah whenever you want, but I need you to marry Claire.”

“I don’t understand,” Noah protested. “Why would I possibly want to marry. . . her?”

“You don’t have to want to marry her,” his father insisted. “Do you think I married your mother for love?”

“I kind of thought so.”

“Of course not. Men in our position make the most of every opportunity.”

Noah shook his head. “Not marriage.”

His father sighed. “Let me lay it out for you. With you marrying Claire, her father and I will merge our companies.”

“Just merge them without me.”

“It doesn’t work like that, son. You’re the incentive. Our family name is what he’s after.”

Noah gaped at his father. This was a new level.

“There’s plenty in it for you,” his father continued, digging into his omelet. “You’ll have your own company plane and be over the other pilots. You’ll be able to choose which trips you take.”

“I have other job offers,” Noah insisted, “that don’t require me to marry someone I don’t love.”

“You can take the plane to see Savannah whenever you want. Until you get tired of her.”

Noah glared at his father. “No,” he said.

“The alternative,” his father continued, “is that your mother and I disinherit you. You get nothing from this day forward.”

Noah dismissed it. “Mother wouldn’t do that.”

His father put down his fork, reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a folded, notarized document. Taking his time, keeping his eyes on his son’s, he unfolded the papers and laid them on the table in front of Noah.

Noah broke his father’s gaze and looked down at the signed document. His mother’s signature – disinheriting her only child. The money going to charity upon his father’s death with a small stipend going to take care of his mother unless she remarried.

Noah glared at his father in disbelief. His father merely smirked.

Noah pushed back his chair and stood up. His fists clenched reflexively. He would never hit his father. But this was one time in his life when he was tempted.

Grabbing the document, he turned and stalked away. He couldn’t look at his father. The man disgusted him.

Going outside, he started walking. He just needed to get away.

Ridiculous. His father’s demand was insane. Why would he possibly agree to do it?

He didn’t need his father’s money. He could get his own job. He didn’t have to be rich. He just wanted to be happy. And he was happy. He loved Savannah. There would never be anyone else for him.

His flash of anger settling, he stopped and sat on a park bench. Stared at the golfers hitting their little balls. Plotting their businesses. Ruining people’s lives.

No. He did not want to be – would not be – part of this world.

Able to focus a little better now, he began reading the four-page document.

When he was finished reading, he knew he didn’t have a choice.

He had to marry Claire Beauchamp.