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Chapter 461: It Means A Lot To Me



Chapter 461: It Means A Lot To Me

At the end of the performance, Noah cheered loudly and gave Violet and her colleagues a standing ovation. He yelled her name as she and the prince came forward to take their bows and for a split second she met his eyes and beamed at him.

As soon as she joined the New York City Ballet officially, Noah bought a season ticket in one of the VIP seats up close to the stage so he had the best view in the house. He wanted to be able to see her facial expressions as she danced.

It was a worthwhile investment solely for the end of each show when she looked out into the audience, saw him cheering her on, and the corners of her eyes crinkled with genuine delight. She only did that when she was at her happiest.

A few minutes later Noah met her out in the lobby as she was graciously accepting people\'s compliments. He handed her the bouquet of colorful gerber daisies and smiled.

"You killed it out there, Vi. How did they manage to change your costume so quickly during the transformation scene?"

Violet laughed. "A lot of practice, let me tell you. I\'m always worried I\'m going to somehow miss my cue. I\'ve seen it happen to other people before."

Her laughter died down and a serious expression crossed her face. She hugged him tightly and he savored every second of it.

"Thanks for coming, Noah. You never miss an opening night and it means a lot to me."

"Consider it part of my job description as your best friend. I\'m glad it makes you so happy though. You\'re always the prettiest when you smile," Noah said softly.

She pulled back and gave him a puzzled look before getting distracted by someone else calling her name. A tall blonde man was approaching her with a large bouquet of red roses. Violet had told Noah about flower language a long time ago—red roses meant romance.

He had made the mistake of bringing her red roses to one of her high school recitals and she shook her head at him and laughed. "You don\'t give red roses to your best friend, dummy. Yellow roses stand for friendship. But thank you. They\'re beautiful."

Noah hadn\'t given her red roses since. He tried to shake things up since he brought her flowers about twice a month, hence the gerber daisies.

So who was this guy who thought he could get away with giving her red roses? Violet would surely set him straight.

He was surprised by how wrong he was. She smiled at him serenely—it wasn\'t her dazzling, joyful smile but it wasn\'t her detached and polite one either. It was somewhere in between.

"Jeremy! I didn\'t know you were coming to my show."

Jeremy? As in \'business robot who never did anything on the weekends but work according to his dad\' Jeremy? Hadn\'t they literally met three times? What made him think he could show up with red roses?

Noah was panicking where he stood. Neither of them seemed to notice.

"I knew you were a ballerina and was curious. You danced beautifully," Jeremy said as he held out the flowers to her. "Here. I didn\'t know someone else would be giving you flowers tonight and thought the star of the show deserved some."

He turned toward Noah, finally acknowledging his presence. "I\'m Jeremy Ward. You\'re Kaleb Hale, right?"

No words were able to make it out of his throat. How did this guy come to the conclusion that he was Kaleb? Wouldn\'t the first guess seeing a beautiful woman receiving flowers from another man be about a boyfriend, not a brother?

"Kaleb almost never comes to my shows," Violet said with a shake of her head. "This is Noah Singleton, my best friend and most avid fan. He always brings me flowers on opening and closing nights."

Jeremy appraised him in an entirely different way once he found out his name. "Noah…Singleton? Your father wouldn\'t happen to be Cameron Singleton, would he?"

"Yes," Noah said almost defiantly.

He wouldn\'t stand for being looked down on by this guy who didn\'t know how to do anything but suck up to Uncle Aaron. What was his interest in Violet, anyway? Was he trying to date the boss\'s daughter to solidify his position? Because that was low.

His dad didn\'t like Jeremy much. Cameron would readily admit the man was brilliant but he treated people based on what he thought they could do for him. In that way he was even worse than Aaron supposedly was before Keeley came along.

He also felt like Jeremy was trying to steal his position as vice president. Cameron didn\'t want the company; he did was Aaron told him to workwise out of habit. His friend had never steered him wrong before. He only became VP because Aaron needed someone to take his place when he became the CEO and asked him first.

But he believed the younger man thought he was trying to steal the company away even though Aaron clearly said he was training Jeremy to be his successor. His dad figured if he and Aaron didn\'t retire at the same time that the first thing brand new CEO Jeremy Ward would do was replace him, even after all his years of dedicated service to the company.

Noah already wouldn\'t have liked him for that. Trying to make a move on Violet crossed his bottom line.

"Interesting. And here I thought the two of you were siblings because of all the pictures Aaron has posted of the two of you together," Jeremy said with narrowed eyes.

"We\'re as good as," Violet replied. "Since our parents are best friends we grew up together."

Noah tried to ignore how much her statement weighed on his heart. He wasn\'t her brother, okay?! They weren\'t related at all! Why couldn\'t she get that through her thick skull and see him as a man?

Jeremy relaxed fractionally. "I see. I work with your father on a regular basis. Come to think of it…you actually look a lot like him."

"Yeah, I know. I get that a lot," Noah said evenly.

Could this guy leave already? He hadn\'t been done talking to Violet about her performance yet.

Other people had come to opening night before; usually it was one of the Quinns or Clarks. But because they all knew each other well it felt natural to include them in the conversation. Right now Noah felt like he was being examined under a microscope.

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