Page 34 of Love Spell (Witches of London #3)

“Timo? Nari is still waiting.” Spencer again.

“I told you to have her talk to Noah first. I’ll be right there.” Timo didn’t take his eyes from his screens, fingers ever working on keys and mouse.

“Noah left. Remember? That was fifteen minutes ago.”

“Left? Give me a minute, Spencer.”

It couldn’t have been fifteen minutes. Spencer was prone to exaggeration.

Timo just quickly checked in on his trades. By the time he emerged from his office, he was more interested in finding out what Spencer meant about Noah than about meeting the journalist.

He had to put up with the latter while calling for Spencer, who came running.

“Where’s Noah?”

“I keep telling you.” Spencer, most uncharacteristically, had a tone. “ He left. ”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Timo snapped back. “Left for what? For where? Breakfast? Haircut? Dentist appointment? What do you mean he left?”

“He packed his things from his desk and walked out right after Nari got here. That was when I first told you.”

“What?”

The journalist answered him, clearly interested in the exchange. “Noah said the engagement is off. How do you feel about that?”

Timo looked between them. Someone wasn’t making sense. He’d got in a few morning trades for five minutes and now everyone was talking like the sky was falling? What had he missed? Why was everyone confused?

He strode past open offices to where the juniors sat. Noah’s screens were black, the computer off. The desk also was cleared, Noah’s personal laptop, notebooks, and potted cactus no bigger than a duck egg all gone.

Timo simply stood there, staring for so long Spencer arrived at his elbow, rather breathless.

“I kept trying to tell you —”

“What the fuck happened?”

“I have no idea! He met Nari, said the engagement was off, and he left.”

“What did she say to him?” Timo rounded on Spencer, who shrank back.

“It wasn’t her, Timo. We didn’t do anything. He was already on his way when she walked in, I think. Didn’t he say anything to you?”

“No.” Wait … had he? He’d said they needed to talk, but the market had been opening. Noah would have known Timo couldn’t pay attention just then.

Spencer was chewing on his own lip, having taken two steps back as if Timo might lunge at him. “He was really upset. I don’t know why. But he was stammering a bit, too. I’ve never heard him do that.”

“I have.” Timo only remembered the fact as he said it. Shit.

He ran past Spencer, back to his office, grabbed keys and wallet, dashed past the still attentive reporter, and raced for the Tube.

By the time he got there and had to pace up and down the underground platform after narrowly missing his train, he was furious.

If Noah had anything so important to say to Timo that he would tell a reporter that their engagement was off and clear his desk then why the fuck didn’t he make a proper effort?

He’d been in Timo’s office and mumbled a few words and left.

That was it. Did he not think that Timo would be more interested in Noah’s spontaneous choice to cancel everything mere hours after it was settled than in the market opening? Did he really not give a damn?

He should have called for a car. No … a car would be slower. Unless the train never got here.

What he should have done was simply run home. It was only two stops plus a short walk away. Why hadn’t he run? Not too late. No, there was the train.

What if Noah wasn’t even home? What if he was home, but he really meant it? Told Spencer and Nari that it was over, not bothered to tell Timo, and already out the door? But he needed time to pack, and where the hell was he going to go?

He’d mentioned a hotel. Timo had said something about Christmas markets. He couldn’t remember how they got from A to B but he did remember it had come up.

All Noah had to do was communicate. All he had to do was make himself clear. No. That was too much to ask. Noah couldn’t be bothered, but he could be bothered to talk to everyone else and storm out for no reason. No fucking reason in the world. Just make Timo look like an idiot and slam the door.

Timo ran all the way from his stop, then pounded the button through another infuriating wait for a lift. He had to still be here. No one could vanish that fast. Yet Timo was stunned when a glance at his watch revealed the market had opened nearly two hours ago. How had that time slipped by?

Timo wasn’t accustomed to being embarrassed in front of others. He didn’t embarrass easily and, like regrets, rarely found anything to be embarrassed about. Perhaps this unaccustomed feeling was partly to blame for the fury that mixed with fear.

He’d announced to the world that he was giving his heart to someone who took that information and just as publicly gave it the finger. For no reason, no discussion, no explanation. Just “Fuck you, Timo,” and walk out in front of everyone.

Timo burst in at home to find no one, the place silent and empty, Noah’s books and tablet gone from the coffee table, his stainless-steel water bottle gone from the kitchen counter.

Timo couldn’t breathe. Something more than panic cut off his lungs, tingling his skin like a dunk in ice water. He gripped the doorway, needing to call out while unable even to swallow.

He somehow made it to the kitchen island, telling himself to calm down.

Nothing had happened to Noah. He’d simply gone to get a hotel room; he was fine and Timo only had to ring him to find out what was happening.

It was probably a misunderstanding. These things always were.

At least, they were in the movies. The woman saw the man in another woman’s embrace at the coffee shop and she turned out to be his sister or whatever.

That was all it would be. Some kind of misunderstanding and Noah was perfectly fine. Timo didn’t need to panic, didn’t need to — whatever this pain was.

He fumbled his phone onto the kitchen island, caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and looked up.

Noah stepped around the corner, emerging from the hallway that led to the bedroom, zipping up his toiletry bag, having heard Timo come in.

Shoulders hunched, he did not look pleased to see Timo.

For his own part, Timo didn’t know what this pain feeling was, and he certainly wasn’t going to express the panic or flood of relief at the sight of Noah that made him hold the island for support.

That left him with one feeling right now that he did understand and knew how to express.

* * *

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Clearing out your things and leaving work in the middle of the morning without a word of explanation?”

Any shred of hope for being able to salvage the situation or allowing Timo to apologise and talk him round, vanished from Noah’s mind the instant he heard Timo’s tone.

“Of course it’s my problem,” Noah ground out. “Plus all about work. Never Timo’s problem — no, Timo can do no wrong.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I haven’t done anything!”

Noah’s bag was packed — his old bag, leaving the new gift — and he should have turned right then, stuffed in the last bundle, gone to a hotel in person to get a room, and sorted out his flight from there since he’d run out of time here.

He should have left and he knew it. He knew Timo was really angry this time, that Noah had never been on the receiving end of Timo’s anger and he didn’t need to start.

He knew it was pointless to stay. But he’d been pushed around by this man since the moment he’d been hired and he had nothing left to lose.

“You’d say that if you drove over s-someone in your car!” Noah shouted back. “Couldn’t possibly be your fault.”

“If you’re upset about something, just tell me!”

“I’m upset about everything you’ve done in the past t-twelve hours! Did it even cross your mind to ask how I felt about you announcing our engagement?”

“Ask about what? That’s what people do. They tell the people they see every day when something noteworthy is happening in their lives.”

“No. First , they discuss s-such an announcement with their partner. If we went to look at a house together and decided to make an offer, would you t-tell the world that night that we were buying a house?”

“Yes! Why the hell would we be secretive about it?”

“It’s not about secrets! It’s about both being on the same page and ready to discuss something publicly!”

“We went to the attorney together! You said yes! If I’d needed written permission to share that with friends and colleagues, that was the time to mention it. Not the next day.”

“I never said yes.” Noah’s voice dropped. He was also holding the cold marble counter edge, physical barrier of the island between them.

“You told Anjali to go ahead!”

“Because you b-b-backed me into a corner, as you always, always do! You should have asked me before sharing with other people! We should have t-talked about it!”

“This can’t be a secret! We’re not members of rival factions. People can know. People should know —”

“And then you had a reporter ambush me!”

“Especially when part of the reason for this is legal —”

“A damn reporter the next morning!”

“The more people who know, more obvious and on record, the better. Of course I jumped at the chance when Nari messaged me. And I did tell you about her. I tried to in my office but the market was opening and you weren’t listening.”

“You weren’t listening! You’re not lis-ss-tenting now! I do not want people to know! ”

“ Why? ”

Silence blanketed the kitchen beyond their rapid breaths as they stared at one another across the island, chests rising and falling.

Noah looked away first, panting.

“Noah?” Timo finally lowered his voice. “Why don’t you want people to know we’re engaged?”

Another pause, Noah’s mind racing, before he said, “I should go.”

He snatched up the toiletry bag and rushed for the bedroom to stuff his last things into his rolling bag, the backpack ready on the bed. He shouldered the pack, only to run into Timo blocking him at the bedroom doorway.

“Why?” Timo asked again, glaring at Noah, his voice forceful but not raised.

“What did I do? It’s not just about this morning.

Have you never been comfortable with me?

No matter what, I can’t win? I don’t have to be your boss anymore.

If you want out of the prop shop, that’s fine.

In fact, we don’t have any choice but for you not to work in Britain at first.”

“No.” Noah focused on the doorframe.

“Do you think I’m too old for you? Because I get that there’s an age difference but I don’t see why it has to be a big deal.”

“No. Get out of my way,” Noah said softly, intent on every syllable.

To his surprise, Timo stepped aside.

Noah rolled his bag over the hardwood for the front door, Timo with him.

“Then what did I do?” Timo asked. “Are you embarrassed by me? Are you taking something out on me? Why don’t you want people to know I love you and want to marry you?”

“It’s not you.” Noah dropped his key and fob on the entry table.

“Then what is it?” Timo caught his arm. “Noah, tell me why you don’t want people to know we’re engaged. I don’t feel like that’s too much to ask.”

Noah wrenched his arm away. “I have t-t-to go.”

“No, talk to me!” Again, Timo stepped into the door in his way. “Just tell me why.”

“I’m not a prisoner here!” Noah yanked at the door, which hit Timo.

“What is it? Is it about your family? About your mom and how she was treated?”

Noah stopped, face downturned, jaw working, chest feeling stepped on by an elephant.

“They’re not here. You don’t ever have to go back there. They don’t have to be involved. And if you want them to, I’ll be with you.”

Noah’s knuckles were white on the door handle, the cold metal painful with the force of his grip. His other hand clutched the handle of his rolling bag with equal force, as if dragging a tree. Still, he couldn’t entirely keep them from trembling.

Just go. Just go and get to a hotel and sort things out. Sort what out? Going home? You have no home.

Noah shook his head. “It’s not them. I lied about that, about my family being the reason I’m not out.”

“And the reason you’re not out is also the reason you don’t want anyone to know you’re engaged?” Timo was almost touching him, right in his face but maintaining a gap. “Engaged to a man?”

Noah gulped, still looking at Timo’s shoes, and nodded.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Come back, sit down, and tell me.”

Blinking fast, Noah pulled at the door but Timo didn’t move.

“Please.” Timo started to lift a hand but again refrained from touching Noah. “Tell me what’s really happening. Then, if you still want to go, go. But please tell me.”

“I’ve never told anyone,” Noah whispered.

“That’s a perfect reason to start.”