Scarlett’s POV
After more than ten hours on a plane, I was completely drained. All I wanted was a hot shower and my bed.
“Sorry, Ms. Taylor, I just got too excited,” Noah said as he rushed to open the back door of the car for me.
I gave him a faint smile and slid into the back seat. Eleanor followed behind, and Noah began loading our luggage into the trunk.
Once inside, Eleanor leaned toward me with a smirk. “Told you. Noah won’t be the last one acting like that.”
I sighed and closed my eyes, muttering, “If Uncle Robart weren’t so close to my family, I wouldn’t even bother showing up.”
Writing, for me, was about passion, not fame, not money. I didn’t need the world’s applause. And I certainly didn’t crave it.
Noah finished buckling in, then turned around with a grin.
