“There’s no need to fight us on this, Eli. We feel this is a generous offer,” Paula says.

If it were so generous, I wouldn’t have had to fly here to make sure my agent wasn’t letting the studio try to give it to me up the ass. I could be in Tampa, working on getting Heather to stop fighting me.

I don’t know what the hell it is about her. She’s frustrating as all hell, but I like the challenge.

I’m not some young musician anymore. I’m older, wiser, and I know there’s something with Heather that I shouldn’t walk away from. I want to know her. I need to see her and touch her, which has to mean something.

“I’m not signing that, and you know why.”

It isn’t an ego thing. It’s a value thing. If they don’t pay me what I’m worth, then there’s no reason they’ll fight for the show. I’m not stupid. If they get this new contract to pay me less, there’s no incentive for them to keep pushing it.

I don’t work on dead ends. That’s my only motto in this industry. Since landing the job on A Thin Blue Line, I’ve done a few movies. They were small parts, but I felt passionate about them. While I love my character and the storyline, I’m not working for less than what they’ve paid me the last five years.

“The show is lucrative, but they want to bring on some new blood,” Paula tries to explain. I can see how frustrated she is, but that isn’t my damn problem. “They need to free up money somewhere, and you’re by far the highest paid actor on the show.”

“Don’t care.” I lean back in the chair and scratch the back of my head. “It’s not my problem.”

Paula crosses her arms and goes silent. This is the thing about my agent I love. She’s a shark. She smells blood in the water and circles until it’s the right time to make her move. I see her predatory gaze as she studies me. She’s on my team, but I’m also the only way she makes money.

Agents are awesome when you’re making them money. When you’re not . . . you’re chum. I’m not about to be her afternoon snack.

“You know I heard they want a new love interest for your character. I heard that Penelope Ashcroft is back in town and looking for work. Isn’t she a friend of yours?”

There’s nothing friendly between us. Paula is definitely throwing out the bait.

I don’t take it, though. The last fucking person I want to think about is her. I go years without a mention of her name and now twice in a week? “Another thing I don’t care about.” Which is total bullshit, but if I let Paula think this is a scab to pick at, she won’t hesitate.

“She’s auditioning for a few shows.” Paula picks at her nails, letting the silence stretch. I know this game, so I stay quiet right along with her. “I didn’t think much of it until Michael mentioned the casting director has her file.”

“Michael? As in my director, Michael?”

So much for keeping my cool.

She shrugs. “It was just in passing.”

Nothing this woman says is in passing. I have no doubt that Michael, if he did mention it, said it to push me. He knew I’d be reluctant to sign. I was lucky twenty years ago, I had a mentor. He told me that our careers start dying the day we sign our deals, and that if we want to make it in this world, we need to make as much money as we can, as fast as we can. I’m not about to take shit pay with them because they threw out that bitch’s name.

I stand, place my hands on the desk, and stare in her eyes. “I’m not signing that contract until you get me the money I want. The way I see it, they—and you—need me. I’m not some small part on that show, and if you don’t get ink on that paper, you don’t get a check from me. So, push them harder. If they want to even entertain Penelope on the show, I’m done.”

“What did that girl do to you?” Paula asks as if I didn’t just say more than the part about her.

“She’s a gold-digging, lying, slut. When I needed her most, she broke my fucking heart. I won’t allow that bitch anywhere near me, got it?”

There are non-negotiables in life—this is one.

Paula gets to her feet and I straighten. “I’ll do what I can, Eli. But I hope you’re prepared to walk away from the show that you love so much. I don’t know that I can get them to go much higher.”

“And Penelope?”

She grins. “I wouldn’t worry about that part. I’ll handle her. She’s a non-issue.”

“Good, and don’t bring her up to me again.”

“You got balls, man,” Noah laughs before throwing back a beer. “I just signed the damn contract.”

I’ve been here three days working with Paula on renegotiations, and this is the first time I’ve allowed myself to relax. Normally, New York is where I feel settled. I know this isn’t my native home, but I love it. The lights, people, smells, and food make me want to stay forever. I think it’s also New Yorkers’ ability not to see famous people. I’m at a bar without a single worry that some vapid fan will come bug Noah and me. However, tonight I would much rather be on the beach or sitting in a beautiful woman’s living room eating pizza.

“It’s not balls, it’s negotiating.”

“How was Tampa?”

My mind shifts to Heather. It’s funny how after a few days, she’s what I’m associating with my hometown. Not Ma, Randy, or the hundreds of things that I love about Florida. No, it’s the beautiful blonde who has taken up residence in my goddamn mind.

“It’s definitely more interesting.”

Noah may play my brother on the show, but I still don’t want to share her with him. As soon as people find out about her, she’ll be swamped by publicity, which will send my shot with her up in smoke. My world comes with a whole new set of rules, right now, I want to play by hers.

I think back to the night we were together. We were laughing, talking, and hanging out. I can’t remember the last time I did that with a girl. Usually, it’s expensive restaurants, clubbing, and the talk about how great we’d be together if I give the random girl a shot.

With Heather, it’s nothing like that.

I’m not even sure she actually likes me.

“Yeah?” he asks with a knowing grin. “What’s her name?”

I lift my hand, motioning to the bartender to head our way. I need to get off the topic so that I don’t outright lie to my closest friend.

It’s clear she knows who we are but does her best to mask it. Another point for New Yorkers.

“What can I get you guys?” The bartender gives a seductive smile. I take a second to look her over. She’s hot, but all I can think is that her eyes aren’t brown and her smile is wrong. When Heather smiles, my heart pauses.

“Two beers, please.”

“Not a problem.” Her blue eyes travel to my mouth before coming back to my gaze. I know the look. It’s her come fuck me eyes. I’ve seen them a lot, but once again, my mind isn’t there, so I turn away.

Noah chuckles, and I glance back at him. “Smooth.”

“I’m here for business this trip. I don’t have time for a woman,” I try to explain. It sounds plausible. I’m here to kick my agent and the network’s asses. I’m not here to fuck some bartender. I have a goal, a mission, and that doesn’t include detours.

I’ll stick with that line of bullshit.

Noah shakes his head in disbelief. “Because you’ve never been known to mix pleasure when dealing with business?”

I’m not quite the playboy everyone has made me out to be. Sure, I’m not known for being a long-term relationship guy, which I blame on the bitch, but my public persona and the guy Noah, Randy, Shaun, and Adam are friends with are not the same. I’m different on stage or behind the camera. I look the part they’ve created—a bad boy with women in every town. It could be true, but it’s not. I don’t know what it’s like not to always be putting on a show, but the other night with her, I felt . . . normal.

“Not since, Jo—” I almost said her vile name. “Her. I learned my lesson on the importance of keeping a clear head.”

Noah’s head snaps back. “Who? Penelope?”

Penelope is the reason I started acting. She pushed me to take something that would keep me around more, plus, the band was getting old and had lost a lot of its popularity. I loved her and wanted to make her happy. My heart was hers, and I thought she loved me, turns out she doesn’t love anything except herself.

“Yup.”

Noah eyes me carefully and pulls a long draw from the bottle. Then he proceeds to pick at the label as we both sit quietly. “I’ve known you a long time, and I like to think we’re friends.”

“We are.”

“I know you’ve got secrets, I don’t push because I’ve got them, too, but whatever happened between you and Penelope Ashcroft was years ago. She’s married now, she’s moved on, and you’re still reliving the shit she did.”

That has to be the deepest few sentences we’ve ever shared. I’m a private guy, you have to be in this world, but Noah is perceptive. Penelope married another actor—one more successful than I am—and lives her perfect life with her perfect bullshit. I refuse to let myself get close to anyone because I can’t afford to.

“I’m working on it,” I tell him.

“Yeah?”

I need a girl who will be there for me.

Stick out the hard times because life is chock-full of them.

Actresses are as fake as the characters they play, I want a real woman.

I smile knowing exactly what woman I want. The blonde who has invaded my mind. The girl who has no problem slamming the door in my face, telling me to leave, pushing me away, and making me want to stay.

I drain the remainder of my beer and slap Noah on the back. “There’s someone who I have in mind.”

He shakes his head. “She must be special to make you even pause.”

She’s more than special. Heather is the complete contrast to every woman I’ve ever known. She’s strong, sexy, determined, and I don’t care that she has some preconceived idea of how this is going to go. Too bad her idea is completely different from mine. She’s about to see how persistence will always win out.