up my spine. “What exactly does that mean?”
“It means we’ll meet every few days while you’re finishing the book. In New York, obviously. I’d like to be on top of my investment.”
“With Miranda.”
Ian hesitates. “I don’t see the need to use her unnecessarily.“
There it is. I shift in my seat as he continues.
“I know how shows are developed. I’m experienced, and you’re talented. Together, we make a good team.”
I shiver as I feel his leg brush mine under the table.
Our meals come, and he digs in immediately, but I can’t.
“We’re not getting back together, Ian.”
He stops chewing halfway through a bite, brows lifting on his handsome face. After he swallows, he plasters on a smile I’ve seen a thousand times. “You’re getting emotional. Reading something into this that isn’t there.”
“I didn’t read into the part where I walked in on you fucking an eighteen-year-old actress on your couch.”
When I rise, he’s out of his seat too, reaching for me. “Hey. Come on.”
His hand grips my arm. I stare at that hand until he releases me.
“This isn’t about me,” he bites out. “It’s about him.”
“I’m not seeing anyone.” Except as I say the words, they don’t feel entirely true.
“Maybe you never touched another man while we were together. But you held back. It’s my job to see the beauty in things. That’s what attracted me to you. On stage, you’re this wild thing. Full of emotion and passion, unrestrained. But you were never that woman with me.”
I’m shaking my head, but he continues.
“At first I thought I wasn’t doing the right things to bring it out of you.” He cocks his head, studying me in a way I can’t deny him. “But that was a lie. Which meant you were saving it for something else. Someone else.”
His words trip me because he’s never said them before, not while we were together or after we broke up.
“There’s always a silver lining to these situations,” he continues. “I believe in your voice, and I have all the connections in the Manhattan arts community. I can make it easy for you to get this show produced. Or”—he adjusts the cuffs on his jacket—“I can make it difficult.”
Cold washes over me at his barely veiled threat.
I know I could work with him, turn away his advances. I trust myself, and I know he has the money and connections to make my dream a reality.
I fold my napkin and set it on the table next to my plate.
“You’re right, Ian. There is a silver lining.”
His eyes soften, as if he knows I’m seeing reason.
“What is this wine?” I ask him.
Ian balks a moment, surprised, but tells me.
I nod. “It’s great.” I make a note to get Pen a bottle as I lift my glass to him before taking a long sip, letting the flavors play over my tongue. “But dinner was a mistake.”
He glances around, as if suddenly unsure of what’s happening.
“You can take your funding and your contacts and your threats and go fuck yourself. Yourself and every other person in Manhattan if you like. But you won’t be fucking me, in bed or out of it.”
I drain the last sip of wine before setting the glass back on the table.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening.” I turn on my heel and head out toward the front of the restaurant.
I’m pissed—pissed at his nerve, even if I shouldn’t be surprised by it.
I don’t regret what I did, but I can’t shake the feeling that it could cost me.
Ian’s not bluffing. He has the contacts to make my life easier or harder.
I’ll deal with it. I’ve dealt with everything else that’s come my way. This project is too important to go down because of him.
I pass the separate bar area of the hotel flanked by floor-to-ceiling glass windows and chrome chandeliers. My gaze catches on a man in a black sport coat and jeans at the bar.
My steps slow and I change directions, cutting a straight path for him. “What are you doing here?” I ask as I pull up next to him.
Tyler turns at the sound of my voice.
His gaze drops down my body, eyes warming with appreciation. “I couldn’t stop you from coming. But I could come with you.”
He turns a crystal lowball glass filled with ice and clear liquid in one hand, eyes crinkling with satisfaction and something like amusement.
A moment ago, all I wanted was to get out of this restaurant, but his presence is like an escape valve, a life preserver.
“How’s