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“Right,” I say. “Simple as that.” I squint. “Well, not as simple as that. It’s not at all as simple as that.”

“Interesting,” he says.

“Is it?” I ask.

He pulls in a deep breath. “Yeah.”

I want to know what he’s thinking. I’m just getting a smattering of single words. I’ve never found Ben hard to read until right at this moment. Does he think I’m a maniac? Does he hate me or does he see this as an opportunity? An opportunity to have a relationship with someone who doesn’t want anything from him but him.

I take a swig of my wine, as I try to think of the right words, but all I can think about is how I want to know what he’s thinking. He hasn’t had any reaction at all.

I put down my glass with a little more force than I was expecting. “What does ‘interesting’ and ‘yeah’ mean?” I ask. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time. I mean that. But have some reaction. What are you thinking?”

Ben’s eyes widen. “I’m reacting,” he says with a grin. “It’s happening on the inside is all.”

“Well, can you turn yourself inside out? I want to understand.” I give him an exaggerated frown.

He shakes his head like I’m incorrigible and bites back a smile. “I’m having a lot of different reactions.”

“Are you mad?” I ask. I don’t want him to be angry with me, but if he is, I get it. I’ve taken up a lot of his time and energy.

“Not in the slightest,” he replies.

“But I wasted your time.”

“It doesn’t feel like that to me.”

What does that even mean? There’s no doubt I took up a lot of his time and attention. It’s like he’s talking in riddles.

“Do you disagree with the decision?” I ask. Maybe he’s focused on the financials. Maybe he’s trying to hold back from telling me I should go with the Boston hotel.

He shakes his head. “Not necessarily. Generally, I think it’s good to expand locally before going further afield. But it would depend on the financial model and the market research and I don’t have access to either, so I can’t say.”

“So you’re not interested in what I want more than anything else in the world, if it’s not the Boston hotel?”

He holds my gaze, his expression frozen, as if he isn’t sure he wants to hear what I have to say.

“Do you want to tell me?” he asks.

Now it’s clear what’s happening. He’s trying not to tell me what he’s thinking. He wants me to show my hand first.

Then so be it.

“Ahhh. The Ben East answer a difficult question with a difficult question technique,” I say, teasing him. This easy playfulness between us is what I’ve missed most. Second most—he really does look incredible naked.

A smile curls around his mouth, and I want to lean forward and press my lips against his “You know all my secrets.”

“I don’t. But I want to.”

His eyes narrow, and he holds my gaze.

“That’s why I gave up Boston,” I say on a whisper. “I don’t want to be just someone else in New York who needed your help. Someone else who employed you for your contacts. I didn’t want to be someone who used you.”

Silence winds between us, but instead of squirm, I let it shift and move. I need Ben to really hear what I’m saying to him.

“You gave up on Boston because you didn’t want me to be involved?”

“I gave up on Boston because I want to be someone you can trust. I don’t think that would be possible if I was someone you had to help or use your network for someone whose problems you solved. You don’t want messiness, or to mix business and personal stuff, but I think what you’re saying is that we need the playing field to be equal.”