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“He’ll be in town tonight to discuss it. I need you to meet with him at the Hilton downtown. And Fiona, I need you to convince this guy to sign on.”
“Why me?” I ask.
“He’s only in town for a day, and I have a previous dinner engagement I can’t get out of. Besides, I have a feeling you’re the right person for the job.” Dave smiles at me encouragingly.
I nod, and we all look up at the sound of a knock on the door.
“Yes?” Dave says, sounding impatient.
“I’m sorry. Can I borrow Fiona for a minute? It’s urgent.” Cara, our office manager, pokes her head in the room.
“I’ll be right back,” I promise, rising when I see the look on her face.
“We’re done here. Fiona?” Dave waits for me to turn back around. “Seven o’clock at the Hilton. We’re counting on you.”
I nod and follow Cara, ready to deal with whatever requires my immediate attention. She wouldn’t have pulled me out for something minor.
“Are you sure she’s up for this?” Samuel asks as I pull the door closed behind me.
It’s almost six when I finally make it back to my condo on the river. Cara pulled me out of the meeting to tell me the location for the next day’s shoot fell through. I’d spent my day rushing all over Wilmington and the surrounding area to find a new location. I’m sweaty and hungry, and all I want is a pint of ice cream and an early night.
Sadly, that isn’t in the cards. Dave made it clear how important it is that we bring this producer guy on board, and for some reason, he thinks I’ll be able to pull it off.
The view out of the sliding glass doors is lost on me as I rush in to grab a quick shower and change into something a little more impressive than the black slacks and cream-colored knitted top I wore to the office this morning.
I wash the sweat and dirt off my body, trying not to think about the meeting ahead. We’re only having drinks. With a little luck, I can be home in time to watch the sunset off my balcony and get the sleep I desperately need.
My hair is still a little damp when I walk back down to my car, but I feel like a million bucks in the burgundy sheath dress I spent half my paycheck on last month.
I glance at my phone and head out to the car. How long will it take me to make it across town during the tail end of rush-hour? I might just make it to the hotel bar to meet—
“Shoot. I don’t know his name,” I mutter to myself, ignoring the look of the older couple walking past me. I send a quick text to Dave, expecting to hear my phone beep before I pull out of my parking space. Dave is usually quick to respond, but no such luck tonight. He did mention a dinner obligation, but I assumed it had been an excuse to send me into the lion’s den alone.
When there’s still no reply when I walk into the lobby of the Hilton, I look around. The bar is off to one side of the lobby. I can see everyone inside the open-concept space. It can’t be that hard to find an LA director in the small crowd of regular tourists and the few other business travelers who gather in the space.
My breath hitches when I catch a glimpse of a familiar face. It can’t be him. Joe, my ex, has made a life for himself across the country. In California. As an up-and-coming producer.
Before I can leave and quit my job, he sees me and waves that huge smile of his that lights up a room beaming at me.
Squaring my shoulders, I stride toward him, heels clicking on the marble tile. I can do this. I repeat the mantra with every step I take until I’m close enough to smell his familiar cologne.
“Joe, what a surprise,” I say with as much confidence as I can muster.
“Fiona.” He pulls me into a warm hug like he isn’t the man who chose his career over us.
2
JOE
My heart races as I watch Fiona walk toward me. I never expected a chance to get back into the life of the one who got away. The one I let push me away, I correct myself. The breakup had been as much my fault as hers. Maybe more than that. Yet here she is, looking more stunning than ever, giving me a guarded smile as she walks to join me. “Fiona.” I pull her into a hug and feel like I’m home.
“Joe. I had no idea I was meeting you here tonight.” She takes a step back, extricating herself from our embrace. Her hands are cold, her breath coming a little too quickly. She’s nervous.
That makes two of us. “Drink?” I ask.
“Please.” She climbs onto the stool next to me, and I raise my hand, eyes darting to the bartender’s attention.
“White wine?” I ask as he walks over.
