Every step is an opportunity to overthink where I should sit, and I choose to leave one chair between us. That seems best.
Elsa takes her leave to commandeer one of her own two assistants to get lunch for us—her included—so I know I have atleast twenty minutes where I won’t have the reprieve of an outside interruption.
Twenty minutes. I can do that.
I can ignore how gorgeous Noah is for a third of an hour. I’ve done harder things.
“Thanks for meeting me here,” I start, desperate to regain some composure. “I apologize for not being ready for our meeting, I promise I’m more put together most days.”
His smile is just a little tense, but it’s a smile nonetheless.
“I work with authors who don’t know what day of the week it is most days.” He waves a hand carelessly. “I’m not under the impression that running a company like Knight-In is stress free, so no worries at all.”
I clear my throat, happy to have that out of the way, and pass him the offers.
“Here are the offers that I’ve gotten in the last few years. I think turning fifty was like a Bat signal or something.”
My shoulders relax at his amused chuckle—it doesn’t sound fake, thank God—and he spreads out the five papers on the table to look them all over.
“The big five,” he murmurs. “I didn’t expect any less for a man of your stature.”
I decide to take it as a compliment, and not something to be alienated for—even if I would understand that.
“Yes, well. I didn’t go looking for them, and I understand that’s more than likely a good thing, but I never imagined myself writing a book, let alone an autobiography. I’m positive I’m not qualified in any way, shape, or form except that the subject is my life. I’ve never believed my existence hasbeen all that interesting either, but all five publishing houses have stayed in contact since each made their first proposal, so it’s something that’s been on my mind. In all honesty, I’m still not sure this is something I want to do, but I figure it’s worth talking about it with someone who knows more about this business than I do.”
“That’s smart,” he murmurs, and looks up once he’s seemingly done reading the offers. He sits up straight and nods once before leaning in a little, and this, I realize, is Noah the professional, Noah the agent.
I don’t know why, but that just made him ten times more attractive—I didn’t think that was possible.
“A lot of autobiographies are actually written by ghostwriters. It’s a standard enough practice that it wouldn’t necessarily surprise anyone. What’s more important here is that most of these offers are carte blanche. Yes, there’s the implication of the book being an autobiography, but from what I can see you can write about any part of your life that you want.
“I can certainly put together a list of ghostwriters who’ve been great collaborators on best-selling autobiographies for you, and you can do your own research. But what I think might be more important in the meantime is that you think about what story you want to tell.
“By story, I don’t mean fictitious in any way. I mean, do you want to tell the world how you built Knight-In? Or maybe the more important lessons you’ve learned about business? If you do this, it’s going to be something that will forever be linked to your name, to your legacy. I suggest you treat it like you would a potential investment, and look at it from all angles.”
I’m speechless for a long moment. I hadn’t thought of this as something that could be a part of my legacy.
I hadn’t thought of it at all beyond how everyone around me seems to think this is something I should do.
I’m not particularly malleable, or easily manipulated, but I know that when the people who know you best all agree, you should probably listen to them.
“All right, talk me through some options please.”
Suddenly, twenty minutes doesn’t seem like nearly enough.
CHAPTER FOUR
Noah
I pace nervouslyin front of my desk, glancing at my watch for the hundredth time, not that it’s moved much in the two minutes since I last looked at it. Chase will be here any minute. But it’s not meeting Chase that makes me nervous. Smart, sophisticated, devastatingly handsome, and oh so rich Chase Knightly. A guy who exudes a quiet power that I find extremely sexy, and I may or may not have spent more time than I should imagining that formidable authority directed at me in the bedroom. I definitely shouldn’t be dreaming about him in that way, but I can reason with myself because that’s what fantasies are, things that are never going to come true. No, I’m nervous because I haven’t actually told Aiden and Cordelia, the brother and sister directors of ANC, the company I work for, that Chase is coming for a meeting.
My desk phone buzzes and I pick it up. It’s Ben in reception announcing that Chase has arrived. I ask him to bring him up, and I take a deep breath. All too soon Ben is opening the door and showing Chase in. I’m sure he looks even morehandsome than when I last saw him. Maybe it’s the cut of his very expensive dark grey suit or the light blue tie he paired it with, but I just stare for a minute, until he smiles.
“Hello, Noah.”
“Um, Mr Knightly, welcome to ANC,” I stutter out, painfully aware that Ben’s eyebrows have disappeared into his hairline at Chase’s familiarity, not knowing that we spent a weekend in Ibiza together, and then Nate and Ru’s wedding, and of course the meeting at Chase’s office last week. Ben doesn’t know any of that. No one at the agency is aware that I even know who Chase Knightly is—well, of course,everyoneknows who Chase Knightly is, but they don’t know I might be on first name terms with him.
“Could we have some coffee please, Ben?” I ask, trying to get him out of my office as quickly as possible as his eyes are still flicking between us. It’s only then I realise my mistake. “That is if you’d like coffee, Mr Knightly. We have tea, or water or?—”