Page 31 of The Billionaire's Secret Kiss

He saw Maggie organizing sandwich ingredients, winked at her, and disappeared back down the hall, but not before leaning down to drop a kiss on his daughter's head. The kiss brought his phone in earshot, and I heard Noah's voice on the other end, talking fast, stress bleeding from every word.

I scooped another spoonful of peas and tried to distract Rosie into eating them. My heart heavy, tears pricking my eyelids, I wasn't fast enough to evade her when she smacked the spoon. Wet clumps of peas splashed onto my face.

A tear leaked out of the corner of my eye. He was leaving? He'd just promised he wasn't going to run out, and he was leaving? Had he known he was leaving this morning? Was that why he wouldn't tell me what the phone call had been about?

I’d told him I'd trust him. I wanted to trust him.

He wasn't making it easy.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight, fighting back tears. When I opened them, Maggie was in front of me, holding a wet kitchen towel.

I reached for it, but she pulled it back, saying, "Hold on, she got your ponytail."

Gently, Maggie cleaned the peas from my hair. Obedient as a child, I closed my eyes and tilted my face up as she swiped the cloth over my cheeks and forehead.

"Are you and Noah trying to work things out?" she asked quietly.

"I thought we were," I admitted.

"He didn't say anything about having to leave?" she asked.

"No, but I was with him last night, and the phone was ringing like crazy this morning, and then he wouldn't tell me what it was about."

I didn't want to say too much, though, in truth, I didn't know anything. But, as much as I loved Vance and Maggie, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something I said messed up Noah's chances with them.

Maggie folded the pea-encrusted towel and set it down on the table beside Rosie's lunch. "Why don't you go talk to him? I'll finish feeding Rosie. This afternoon is flexible until around two-thirty when I have an appointment, and Vance has to go to the gallery."

"You don't mind? I'll be back by two, probably before."

"No, Ella, it's no big deal. Better to talk to him and find out what's going on. Otherwise, you’ll drive yourself crazy worrying and waiting for him to tell you."

I stood, brushing off my jeans and sweater. "Am I good?" I asked.

Maggie gave me a quick head to toe scan, searching for errant globs of baby food. I'd learned—we'd all learned—that feeding Rosie was a contact sport. It was almost impossible to escape without the evidence somewhere on our clothes or in our hair. Usually, in the last place I'd think to look until I was out in public and someone politely commented that I had mashed pears smeared on my shoulder.

"All clear," Maggie promised. "Good luck."

I had the sinking feeling that I would need it.

I tried to call Noah on the way to his hotel but didn't get an answer. When my phone rang in my hand, my heart jumped, sure it was him. Instead, I saw the same number I'd answered two nights before.

Philip Martin.

Why wouldn't he just go away? Irritated and exasperated, I answered and said "Hello?"

"Ella, it's Philip."

"Philip, is something wrong? Why are you calling?"

"I wanted to make sure everything was all right, Ella. And let you know that you won't have to worry about Noah for much longer. He'll be leaving Atlanta shortly, and there won't be any reason for him to go back."

"Philip, what did you do?"

"Nothing that you need to worry about, Ella. I just wanted to make sure you knew that you could relax. Noah isn't going to bother you anymore."

"Philip, I don't need your help with Noah. He's not bothering me."

"You've always been too nice where Noah was concerned," Philip said, a bite in his voice. Something in his tone reminded me of the way he was in college. I didn't know him well, but he was a friend of friends, and we ran into each other here and there.