This time Demi Lovato added the pep to my step as I drove to the venue. Her brand of confidence and “I don’t give a fuck” attitude was exactly what I needed. I’d spent all weekend wallowing in self-pity. Way too much ice cream was eaten, sweatpants were worn, and messy buns were the only hairstyle I wore. Peyton worked all weekend, overnight, so I was able to indulge by myself.

Now it was Tuesday, and I had on my favorite heels and the skirt that made me feel amazing. I was going to rock the hell out of this tasting. No one would be able to call me anything other than the utmost professional.

Inside the venue, I checked with the staff to make sure everything was ready for them, plus made sure the proper documents were signed and ready to go, filed away in case we needed them. The number of non-disclosure agreements I’d had to print out seemed never-ending, but everyone had to sign one. From the secretaries to the chefs to the servers. Hell, even the owner of the establishment had to put pen to paper. There was no way this was getting out on my watch.

Fifteen minutes before the couple was supposed to arrive, Nash walked in by himself. My heart skipped a beat. He looked so familiar, yet so different. His hair was still disheveled, and his eyes were still the most beautiful shade of green. Even in eight years, I’d never found anyone who had eyes that could undo me the way Nash’s could. His black faded jeans were tight, but not so tight they looked glued on. He slipped his sunglasses on top of his head and regarded me.

“Bianca.”

I nodded stiffly. “Mr. James.” I moved closer, knowing the polite thing was to take his hand, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch him. “Will Vivienne be joining us soon?”

“She’s stuck on set, so she won’t be here.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s just you and me.”

A jolt ran though me. My earlier bravado slipped a bit. It was easier to pretend I wasn’t affected by him when Vivienne was there as a buffer. I didn’t want to be with him, especially not with the heated words from the concert hanging in the air around us. I didn’t totally regret what I’d said, but I did regret allowing myself to get so angry. I prided myself on my self-control. I ruled my emotions—at least outwardly—they didn’t rule me. One conversation with Nash and that flew out the window completely.  “Was she upset?” I asked. “About us being friends before?”

His hand went to his neck, rubbing a few times before he shoved it into his pocket. “I had to answer some questions. Mostly about what our relationship was. She wanted to make sure we were only friends.”

“You and me specifically, or all of us?”

He was silent a long time, his eyes shuttered. He seemed to be weighing what he was going to say, trying to decide what he should reveal and what he shouldn’t. “All of us, mostly.” He swallowed, his throat muscles moving with it. I tracked their movement. “But you and me, specifically. She was concerned there was more between you and me than either of us were willing to admit.”

Add intuitive to Vivienne’s list of qualities. I sent up another silent thank you that she’d been too far away to hear my meltdown at the concert. “I hope it didn’t cause you problems.”

He shook his head. “It didn’t. I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t been convincing.”

Those words sliced through me, full of hidden meanings and things left unsaid. I wanted to ask for more, press him, but I didn’t. “Shall we get started?” I gestured toward the room behind me.

Inside the ballroom, he stood in the center and looked around. Two walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that were decorated with heavy cream drapes. Everything in the room was some shade of gold or cream, including the giant chandelier in the center of the ceiling. “It’s beautiful,” he said softly, as though he was deep in thought.

“It’s one of the nicest in the area.” Out the window, there was a gorgeous view of the river. That was part of the appeal. It was on the water in Pittsburgh, almost like a beach front wedding without the beach.

“I’m sure Vivienne will love it.” His voice was so soft it was hard to hear him.

“I think she will.”

He nodded. He strolled over to one of the windows. The sun shone around him, casting him in a glow that made him look almost ethereal. The light highlighted his tattoos in the most tantalizing way. Somehow, they almost seemed to be popping off his skin. I wanted to study the designs and learn the reason he’d gotten each and every one. I straightened my spine. There was no time for those thoughts. They certainly weren’t mine to have. “I wasn’t sure you’d show up today.”

“I told you I’d be here. I’m here. It’s my job.”

His shoulders moved with a sigh. “I know it’s your job; I just wasn’t sure if you’d be here. I kept waiting for you to call and cancel.”

I pressed my lips together, thinking about what to say. “I don’t want to lose my job.”

His head turned to the side slightly, like he started to look at me but stopped himself. “Your job means that much to you?”

I nodded though he couldn’t see me. “It’s important to me. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am. I started at the bottom and worked my way up, fighting tooth and nail to show how good I am.”

“I’m sure you’re one of the best.”

“I am.” I swelled with pride, this time for myself. I’d worked hard, really hard, to get to where I was. I’d gone to college and worked at As You Wish. Nadine was a tough and precise boss, she wanted things her way. The more I proved myself to her, the more she expected of me. Every client, every job I took on, it felt like another test with her. If everything wasn’t perfect, she had no use for you anymore. I’d seen her fire people over something as simple as a forgotten email. She required a lot, but I loved it.

“It’s the perfect fit.” He was silent a moment, taking in the view out the window before he spoke again. “Is there anything else? Besides your job?”

“I have a small group of friends, though Peyton is still my best friend.” I had no idea why I was offering up so much personal information. There was something in the air around us that made it feel safe. Safe to confess these things to him, to let him in a little more. Maybe it was my way of showing him that I had my own life, outside of him. He’d told me to move on, so I had. My life was great. I had amazing friends and a great job I loved, plus parents who supported me no matter what I did. I was lucky. I felt like I’d risen above the legacy my birth parents had left behind for me. I wasn’t ruled by any substance, I was successful, I was loved.

“No one special? You’re not dating?” His head was still turned to the side, and the sun shone on him. It highlighted his jaw, the slope of his nose. It somehow made him even more attractive than he already was. Maybe it just made it even more impossible to ignore than it already was.

“Mr. James,” I said, pausing to swallow my emotions down.

“I’m just trying to get an idea of what your life is like now.”

“It’s really none of your business.”

He smirked at me, taking me off guard with the sexy tilt of his lips. “I’m being civil. To keep things friendly for Viv’s sake.”

I narrowed my eyes, wanting to call him out, but deciding he had a point. A civil conversation wouldn’t kill me. “No one specifically right now, no.”

“But there has been in the past?”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if he could see me with the way he was turned. “I’ve dated, yes. No proposals or anything, though I did get close to one just after college.” I’d dated Kyle for a year and a half. We’d started dating at the beginning of our senior year and continued even after we graduated. After graduation, he’d taken a job in Texas, and I hadn’t wanted to relocate. I’d become an assistant event coordinator at As You Wish, and I didn’t want to leave all that work behind. He’d left, and I’d stayed. Since then, I’d seen a few guys here and there, but nothing serious. I liked being on my own, my time being my own.

Before Nash could say anything, the representative walked in. “So sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Claire, the event coordinator for Scarlet Inn.” She smiled, clearly turning on the charm when she saw Nash. “Mr. James, welcome to the Scarlet Inn. I hope we can assist on your wedding day. Please, have a seat.” She swept an arm to a circular table in the center of the room. We all sat, and she prattled on about potential menus and substitutions. She made it clear that they’d be willing to do pretty much anything necessary to host the wedding. Nash answered all her questions and responded with his own. I sat there, spine stiff and hands folded politely in my lap. I squeezed my hands together as my thoughts raced at warp speed. I could feel the heat coming off Nash, and I fought the urge to move my chair a few inches away.

Servers brought out dishes of food and set them on the table. They brought out a couple different bottles of wine for us to sample with the food. I poured myself a little bit of the Riesling, hoping it’d calm the storm inside of me. But I didn’t pour much because I was working.

Claire detailed what each plate was full of as Nash put some on his plate. “Aren’t you going to try any, Bianca?”

His words wrapped around me, pulling me from my thoughts. I served myself some from the platters and listened to the two of them discussing details. I didn’t taste the food. It was sawdust in my mouth. For all my posturing about being professional and unaffected by him, I was a liar. I wanted the anger back from the other night. Instead, I was a deflated balloon. I’d popped, and now I was lifeless.

“I’ll leave you two to discuss things. I’ll be back in a little while.” Claire excused herself, leaving me alone with Nash once again. I wanted her to come back. I needed the buffer. Damnit, Vivienne, why couldn’t you be here?

He poked the food around his plate. “I think this place will do. Viv will love it.”

I smiled, though it felt stiff. “I’m glad.” We sat in silence, the air charged and full of unspoken words. I wished Claire would just come back and save us from ourselves.

After what felt like forever, Nash cleared his throat, and I looked at him. “Did you mean it?”

I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to think of what he was talking about. “What do you mean?”

“When you said you wanted me to be happy? Even if it’s with Viv?” He almost whispered the words. I had to strain to hear them.

“I did. I do.” I ran a hand down my thigh as a way to distract myself from the way he was looking at me.

“I want you to be happy, too, Bianca.”

I nodded. “I hope I can get there some day.” Another forced smile.

“I want that for you.” My eyes shot to his. “I want you to be happy too.”

“I appreciate that.” I didn’t want to venture into personal things. As long as things were strictly professional, everything would be fine. “When Claire comes back, are you going to sign the contract?”

“Yes.” He pushed his plate away. “I feel like we need to talk about the other night at the concert.”

“Everything that needed to be said was said.” Where was Claire? Couldn’t she come back already and save me from this conversation?

“Felix is really upset. He wants to fix things with you and Peyton.” He chuckled and ran a hand over his chin. “In fact, he’s not even speaking to me currently. He’s so pissed that I messed everything up.”

I smiled at the thought of Felix. “Do you have his number? I’ll have to call him later so Peyton and I can talk to him.”

“Yeah.” He pulled out his phone and scrawled a number on a napkin before handing it to me. “He’ll appreciate it. I will too. I can’t take it that everyone is mad at me.”

I quirked an eyebrow at him. “Then maybe you should stop being an asshole,” I said, my tone bordering on teasing.

A slow, sexy grin grew on his face. “Are you joking with me right now?”

I lifted one shoulder and let it drop in a half shrug. “Maybe I am.” I tucked Felix’s number into my purse.

“I’d still like to talk to you. Just the two of us. We need to clear the air.”

Again, Claire was a life saver. She came in and completely derailed any further discussion by getting to business.

When we finished, Nash and I walked out together. I kept plenty of space between us, but I could still feel him.

“I’m heading to New York,” he said, running a hand over his hair.

I nodded. “Of course. I’ll hold down the fort here.”

“Do you think we could talk when I get back?”

I sighed, wondering how to shoot him down. I didn’t want to be alone with him because my feelings were out of control when he was around. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. James.”

“All I want to do is talk. I want things to be less awkward between us. I want to be able to be in the room with you without fearing you’ll attempt to cut me.”

I chuckled. “I’m not going to cut you, but I don’t think us discussing things further is worth it.”

“Clearly you have a lot of things you want to say. The anger the other night, it was fresh for you. Maybe if we talked, you’d feel better.” He shrugged.

Anger flared to life. How could he do this to me? We were fine the entire time we were in the ballroom, but one sentence from him caused all the civility I’d worked hard to have to flush down the toilet. “I’ve been just fine without your fake apologies.”

“It’s not fake. I really am sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

My whole body stiffened. “Then maybe you should have handled things differently. Finding someone else while you’re still with me isn’t exactly preventing hurt, is it?” I headed toward my car, not wanting to be in his presence anymore.

“Bianca,” he called out to me. I turned. His hands were in his pockets, and his shoulders drooped as though he was defeated. “I know you think I wanted to, but I didn’t. I would have given anything to keep from hurting you.” He sighed, the lift and drop of his shoulders showing that maybe he was struggling himself. “I did what I did because I thought it was best because I thought it would give you the best chance at life.” He gazed at me, his eyes pinning me to the spot. There was emotion in his voice I wasn’t ready or willing to identify at the moment. A heaviness filled my gut. He sounded regretful like there was more he wanted to say, but he was holding himself back.

“Sometimes good intentions aren’t enough, Mr. James.” I turned toward my car again, taking purposeful strides toward it.

“Will you please just think about it?” he yelled after me.

There was a slight pause in my steps. I didn’t answer him until I’d opened my car door and had one foot inside it. “I’ll think about it, but that’s all I’m promising.” I got in my car and left him behind.