Something had changed, and I didn’t know if I trusted it.
“How’s the Monarch deal going?” I asked, hoping work would bring things back into focus. Monarch was one of the last independent powerhouses in the industry. They were small, selective, and fiercely protective of its artists.
And Nathan was in the middle of trying to acquire it for Edge Records.
Nathan sighed. “Truthfully? Not great. Their founder doesn’t trust me. He thinks I’ll corporatize their label. Strip it of everything that makes it special.”
“Do you want to?”
He looked surprised by the question. “No. But I think I’ve forgotten how toshowpeople that. Somewhere along the way, I stopped being the guy who fell in love with music.”
I tilted my head, considering him. “What made you fall in love with it in the first place?”
Nathan’s expression turned wistful. “My mom used to sing around the house. Badly,” he added, smiling slightly. “But always. While cooking. Driving. Even when folding laundry. Music was a joy for her. I guess I wanted to bring that same joy to others.”
I froze.He’d never mentioned his mom in all the years we’d worked together.
“I think you still care,” I said softly. “Even if you’ve buried it.”
Nathan’s gaze met mine, steady but shadowed with doubt. “Maybe you’re right. The bigger the company gets, the more it feels like I’m just chasing numbers, not the music. What if I can’t convince them I’m still that guy? What if I’m not?”
The vulnerability in his voice hit me harder than I expected. “Monarch wouldn’t even be talking to you if they didn’t see something in you. They know your reputation. You’re the man who gives unknown artists a platform and turns them into legends. Youarethat guy. You always have been and you always will be.”
Nathan studied me, his expression softening, though uncertainty lingered in his eyes. “You make it sound simple.”
“It is,” I insisted. “Because it’s the truth. You didn’t get to where you are by accident, Mr. Edge. You care. And if you show them even a fraction of that, they’ll trust you.”
The room felt impossibly quiet after that. Nathan’s gaze didn’t waver, and for a moment, I thought he might say something, but he just nodded, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” I replied, feeling a strange warmth in my chest.
Nathan picked up a fry, his tone shifting back to its usual controlled edge. “Now, eat. If you faint from hunger, I’m not dealing with the paperwork.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “Noted, Mr. Edge.”
“Do I have to worry about your boyfriend showing up because I’m keeping you late?” Nathan questioned, taking me by surprise.
I glanced down at the pool of ketchup I had created in the corner of my takeout box, the fries I love suddenly losing all its appeal.
“No.” I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “We’re not together anymore.”
“Oh.” The lone word slipped from his mouth, breathlessly, maybe even a little stunned. I waited for him to press further on the subject, but to my surprise he simply picked up his cheeseburger and took a bite. “So,” he spoke up once he finishedswallowing, “If you weren’t here right now, what would you be doing?”
The question caught me off guard.
I blinked. “What?”
“If I hadn’t kept you,” he clarified. “Where would you be?”
I hesitated, then shrugged one shoulder. “At home,” I said. “Curled up in bed. Probably creating new choreography or watching a rom-com I’ve already seen at least five times.”
His lips twitched slightly. “Predictable.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Enjoyable.”
“Which one?” he asked.
I studied him for a second. “Why?”
