Harbor

“Ian, I have to go. Mitch will be here any minute.”

“Harbor—” Ian starts, but I cut him off, not wanting to hear another tirade about how Mitch is taking advantage of me.

“See you tonight.” I hang up quickly, stopping his argument, which I know verbatim since it’s all Ian talks about when the subject of Mitch is brought up. It burns me up inside that Ian thinks it wasn’t my skills that landed me my commercial gig. He has ranted repeatedly that getting a gig on your first audition is a trick agents do to convince young, naïve actresses they’re star material, which supposedly leads to said actress becoming dependent on said agent and under their thumb.

I may be naïve but I’m not stupid. Ian wasn’t there in the waiting room to experience the desperation and want coming off the girls sitting next to me. All of them were there for the same part and I’d bet money more than half of the girls in that room had more experience than I did. Mitch may have talked me up to get me an audition, but it was me who got the job.

Even though Ian helped me run lines and watched all the classic Broadway plays snuggled up on the couch with me, he still doesn’t realize how important acting is to me. When he makes comments about how cute I am while I’m taking notes on the more moving performances, it always makes me feel like he thinks I’m playing at acting and not serious about it.

If it wasn’t for Collette I would have moved out of Ian’s apartment weeks ago. My heart stutters at the thought of not waking up wrapped in Ian’s arms but I restart it, pushing Ian’s sweet moments to the side.

Collette makes remarks like I need to be patient with Ian, but she’s never revealed what exactly happened to make him the way he is. I assume it has something to do with a female breaking his heart, but other than the slight eyebrow raise from Collette when I mentioned it to her over sushi, I have no real evidence.

I wish I could remove the control Ian has over my heart. Every time we fight I make the choice that it’s time to leave, but when he realizes he’s pushed me too far, he does something sweet and ruins my resolve before it has even set. He really is the most amazing person when we aren’t fighting, which is as long as I don’t mention the one thing in my life I’ve dreamed about since kindergarten.

I scoff and the lady next to me gets up and moves to another table farther away.

It frustrates me that some unknown woman is getting between us. I’ve come to recognize jealousy as it sizzles in my belly, making my skin feel tight. Ian’s control issues and inability to trust make me wonder if he’s still in love with this shadow of a woman who has darkened his heart. Why else would he refuse to admit out loud that we’re a couple?

Being so focused on achieving my dream, I’d never let anyone—especially a guy—take my focus away from acting. Ian is the first real relationship I’ve ever had. And he won’t even come out and claim us.

“No lover boy today?” Mitch asks, breaking me out of obsessing about Ian.

“Be nice,” I tell him, getting up and hugging him.

I watch as women in the restaurant slide sideways glances at Mitch. He’s a good-looking guy and I can see why Ian would be a little jealous of him. If only Ian could understand that he owns my heart. I sit down hard on the chair as I come to the conclusion that I’m in love with Ian. I’m in love with the broody, jealous, controlling man and I have no idea what to do with that information.

“Harbor, are you all right? You look a little pale.” Mitch motions the waitress to pour us water as he watches me with a concerned face.

“Yes, I’m fine. I didn’t eat today,” I lie and I’m relieved when he seems to buy my excuse.

“I have your check from the commercial. Normally they’d send it to you but I wanted to celebrate. This is the start of something big.”

Mitch’s enthusiasm is contagious. I stuff the envelope in my purse, even though I want to tear it open to see the numbers printed on it. Trying to act professional is hard.

“So, how is everything going with Neanderthal Man?” Mitch asks, taking a bite of his salad.

“Stop, Mitch. Ian has been nothing but nice to me. He was there for me when you went MIA and let me flounder alone in this city.”

Mitch leans over and lays his hand on top of mine wrapped around my fork. “Harbor, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you how awful I feel about not checking in.”

“It’s fine. I’m over it.”

“Harbor, you’re special. I knew you were special the moment I laid eyes on your portfolio. I’m telling you this, not as your agent but as your friend, you can do better than Ian. I’ve seen actresses get involved with controlling men and they suck the creativity out of them until they’re a shell of what they were. Harbor, I don’t want to see that happen to you. He looks at you as if he owns you.”

My heart is pounding, my stomach churning. My fork bangs loudly against my plate, causing the people dining near us to glance over at me.

“Mitch, I understand you’re concerned,” I hiss, trying not to garner any more attention. “Ian is a good man and I would kindly ask you to stop discussing him the way you are. You don’t see the way he is when we are together. He’s just looking out for me.”

“Harbor, he isn’t right for you. He isn’t going to open up to you, and that’s going to kill your soul. You need someone who’s going to hold you up and support your dreams. You need someone who’s going to love you and let you blossom into the star you’re meant to be.”

I place my napkin over my plate, holding back the tears wanting to fall. Mitch is voicing all the concerns I have about Ian and some I didn’t even think of until now. “I seem to have lost my appetite. I will see you tomorrow for the commercial wrap party.”

Getting up, I don’t bother turning when Mitch calls my name. With my eyes on the door, I walk out of the restaurant and don’t let the tears fall until I’m swallowed by the crowd on the sidewalk.

My mind is racing as I go back to Ian’s apartment. I can’t sit still and piddle around, getting out the vacuum and wiping counters even though Ian has a service that comes in once a week. When I’ve run out of specks of dust I head for a steaming hot shower.

Can I wait for Ian to open his heart to me?

Will he ever open his heart to me and banish the other woman?

Are my feelings for Ian clouding my judgment? Causing me to make more of our relationship than what it is?

Does Ian have feelings for me, or am I just a possession to him? A damsel in distress—is he using trying to make up for running me over as an excuse when what he really wants is to control me?

Confusion bombards my thoughts until I have a headache. Snapping the water off, I dry my hair in a towel with more vigor than necessary. Mitch put more questions in my head than what had already been swirling around and now I’m doubting every little thing about Ian.

The one thing I do know for certain is that we can’t keep our hands off each other. The sex is off the charts and even with the little experience I have I know when we come together it’s something special. But it isn’t just the phenomenal sex, it’s more. Ian’s sweet, kind, and generous. Generous unless it has to do with commitment concerns.

I spy the check sticking out of my purse and pull it out wondering if I could use it to move out. Maybe not being under Ian’s roof and no longer being dependent on him would help me get our relationship in focus. My heart cries out as I consider moving out of Ian’s apartment.

When I see the check, I clasp it to my heart. It’s a good check, more than I’ve made at any of my jobs, but it’s only enough to get me through two months and that’s if I budget like a mad woman.

Not having a steady job scares me. I could start waitressing again but I want to keep focusing on acting. Staying with Ian is the smart thing to do. I’m saving money and he hasn’t said anything about me moving out, so maybe I should wait a bit longer.

I laugh at myself and plop down on the bed. I’m making excuses to not leave Ian because he has my heart. I want to break down the walls he has constructed around his heart. I want to be with him and watch his company succeed. And I want him to be able to watch me obtain my dream.

“Harbor, are you home? I brought pizza,” Ian calls out.

I wipe my eyes and throw on one of his shirts that barely hides my butt. I’m going to give Ian every chance I can to open up to me, and I’m not pulling any punches. I exaggerate my hip sway as I go out to meet him and he drops the pizza on the kitchen table, his eyes devouring me from my toes all the way up to my face.

“I like you in my clothes.” His voice is husky as he comes to me.

Ian surprises me by pulling me to his body and swaying me into a silent slow dance. He buries his nose in my hair and inhales deeply as we dance in the middle of the kitchen. If there is any doubt in my mind whether I’m head over heels in love with Ian, him dancing with me around the kitchen table cinches it.

Ian spins me out and back close to his body. Being in his arms feels like home. There has to be some way to get him to admit I mean something to him.

His head lowers and he nibbles on my bottom lip before dipping me low.

“Where did you learn to dance?” I ask, breathless.

“My mom made me take lessons when I was young. My brother and I went to dance class until we were fifteen.”

“You have a brother?” I ask, but Ian’s face goes tight and he doesn’t respond. I want to launch into questions, but refrain. It’s not the time.

I twirl away from Ian’s body and he smoothly guides me back in.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Strong?” I tease, wanting the tightness to leave his face.

“Is it working?”

“Yes,” I admit and watch as Ian’s pupils push the brown away.

“You know what the best part of pizza for dinner is?” Ian asks, kissing my neck as I cling to him.

“What?”

“That it’s still good cold.”

I laugh as Ian hooks an arm behind my knee and picks me up like I weigh nothing, then heads to the bedroom.