“As a company investing quite a bit of time and money into this game, we don’t think it’s too much to ask that you formally accept the invitation. It will go a long way in our marketing efforts.”
Julia cringed a little. The request was reasonable but probably difficult for Noah to swallow. No athlete at his level wanted to be told what to do. A moment of silence followed, and Julia found herself holding her breath.
“Absolutely,” Noah finally said. “I’ll do it today.”
If anyone in the other room could read between the lines, they would have heard, “You bet. I’ll do it when I’m damn good and ready. Is this meeting over?”
But the oldest, most stoic speaker just said, “Great. Let’s talk about your recovery. How is it going? I know it’s a sensitive subject, but considering the success of this game hinges on your athletic performance, it’s important.”
Holy shit. This was going downhill fast. Julia slipped off her stool, crossed her arms, and clamped a thumbnail between her teeth, pacing the kitchen. This conversation brought back so many uncomfortable memories that she started feeling boxed in.
“It’s going great,” Noah assured with a mild go-fuck-yourself undertone probably inaudible to anyone but herself and Drake. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m going to own Aspen in February.”
“We’ve been hearing contradicting reports, and considering the game will fail if you—”
“Who told you differently?”
Noah’s brusque tone shot a tingle of ice down her spine. What the hell was Drake doing in there, playing with his nuts? Noah didn’t need this kind of stress while he was trying to rehab. He might not admit it, but she knew he feared for his future, the same way she had six years ago. Hopefully, he wouldn’t make the same mistakes she had. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to rebuild his life from the ground up.
“I can’t say who told us”—the company man’s voice held a hint of hesitation—“but we were given enough information to take stock in its credibility. I understand you’ve been rehabbing yourself. That you’ve lost three physical therapists because—”
“Because they weren’t doing their jobs,” Noah interrupted. “Because they knew less about sports conditioning than I do. If I’m running a little behind schedule, it’s because those physical therapists did more harm than good.”
Julia couldn’t take it anymore. She turned for the living room.
“Still,” the man said, “we’d feel better if you had a professional overseeing your—”
“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” she said in her most congenial voice, stepping in. “But I’m sort of in a time crunch.” She walked to the sofa where Noah overwhelmed one corner, and leaned her hip on the arm, addressing the group at large. “I’m supposed to meet a tow truck driver down at the bakery any minute to get my car out of that drift. I’d reschedule so you could finish this conversation, but with the limited resources around town right now, there’s no telling when I’d get another chance.”
She looked down at Noah, into the face she’d come to know so intimately last night. Now, she had to slip into her professional, distant-but-friendly veneer. And lie. “Would it be okay if we moved the magnetic therapy to this afternoon so I could pick up my car now? Once that’s finished, you’ll be ready for some intense training this evening. Then we can fit in another therapy session before you go to bed. Does that work for you?”
He was staring at her like she had a series of screws loose.
“We were just discussing Noah’s recovery,” Drake said, sliding his hands into his khakis and rolling back on his heels. “You’ve got great timing. Why don’t you tell everyone here from Guru Technology a little about your background?”
That would be a great idea if she were staying, but Drake knew she wasn’t. She’d called him last night while she’d been cleaning the kitchen to tell him so.
“I’d love to, but…” She searched for a clock. “Does anyone have the time?” Noah lifted his hand and twisted his watch face toward her. She sucked a breath through her teeth. “Ooo, yeah. I can’t miss this tow. I’d be happy to send you all a résumé if you’d like.”
“I’ll take you to get your car.” Drake pulled his keys from his pocket, then turned to the group, all men in their early to late twenties, dressed casually in jeans and sweaters. “Julia has a double bachelor’s degree in sport
s medicine and nutrition, and her masters in physical therapy. She’s spent the last four years of her career with Performance Therapy. They’re based out of San Francisco and handle all the big names, including various Olympic athletes and many of the players on the Giants and Niners rosters.”
“Really,” one of the men said. He looked the oldest and had a beard a lot like Noah’s, only the effect was totally different, giving more of a homeless look than Noah’s carelessly hot. “What brought you here?”
“Drake made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“And how is your work with Noah going?”
“Well, he is”—breathtaking in bed —“truly gifted. I’m looking forward to getting Noah back on the slopes in top form.”
“As you can see,” Drake said, “Noah’s in excellent and capable hands. You should all really get on the road before that second sweep of this storm comes in.” He lifted his chin at Julia. “Ready to go?”
She straightened with a relieved smile. “Beyond ready.”
Noah’s hand closed around her forearm, and his warmth burned into her skin, then seeped through her body. “I’ll take her. We have some shop talk to go over.”
“We can talk later. Drake’s already going out—”