We Will Love Again – Episode 10
The conference room remained silent after Noah claimed Alaina’s time. Joey looked delighted by what he mistook for trust, while Abigale and Evonne struggled to hide their resentment. Only Alaina understood that Noah’s choice was not a favor.
“Mr. Preston, Alaina is one of our writers,” Joey said carefully. “If you need an executive liaison, I can assign—”
“I know what her title is.” Noah’s gaze stayed on Alaina. “A senior writer should understand every project worth acquiring. Unless you’re telling me she isn’t capable.”
Joey retreated at once. “Of course she’s capable.” He turned to Alaina with an order already in his eyes. “You’ll give Mr. Preston whatever he needs.”
Alaina folded her hands beneath the table. Five years ago, Noah had asked only for time and faith. Now he possessed enough money to buy her workplace, and she had no choice but to give him both.
“How long will the evaluation take?” she asked. Her calm tone cost more effort than anyone knew.
“Several weeks, perhaps longer.” Noah let the answer settle. “That depends on how cooperative the company is.” He could have delegated the entire review to Aaron, but distance no longer interested him.
Aaron opened the schedule and outlined interviews, document reviews, and project assessments. Alaina took notes, grateful for any task that kept her from looking at Noah.
When the meeting ended, Joey pulled her aside. “You nearly ruined this before it began. I don’t care what history you have with him. Keep him happy.”
“Abigale told me ten.” Alaina kept her voice low, but Joey’s impatience had already chosen the easier version of events. He warned her against blaming coworkers and hurried away to impress Aaron.
Noah watched from the corridor. He could not hear every word, yet Alaina’s rigid shoulders told him the conversation was not kind. To his annoyance, an old instinct urged him to intervene.
He crushed it. Protecting Alaina had once cost him opportunities she later mocked him for losing. Whatever difficulties she faced now belonged to the life she had chosen.
“Ms. Campbell,” he called. She turned immediately, and the obedience felt far less satisfying than he expected. “Show me the writers’ room.”
They walked side by side through the cramped studio. Alaina explained the workflow, current productions, and the limitations of a company that stretched every dollar. Noah listened, aware of how naturally their pace matched.
At her desk, he saw a framed photograph of Alaina with her mother. The older woman looked frail but awake, smiling toward the camera. Before he could examine it, Alaina laid a folder in front of the frame.
“Where’s Peter?” Noah asked abruptly. The question had waited five years, stripped of every gentler form it might once have taken.
Alaina’s fingers tightened on the folder. Peter had never been her lover, only a friend willing to help stage a lie. “That has nothing to do with this acquisition.”
“You made him part of my life when you climbed into his car.” Noah stepped closer, keeping his voice too low for the others. “Did he finally buy you everything you wanted?”
The shame on her face looked like confirmation. Alaina could end his misunderstanding with one sentence, but that sentence would lead to his mother. “My personal life is none of your business, Mr. Preston.”
Noah placed a thick stack of project files on her desk. “Then let’s keep this professional. I want a complete analysis by eight tomorrow morning.” As he walked away, Alaina opened the first folder and realized the work would take her all night.
