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She glances up at me, her sparkling green eyes dazzling me like they always do. This time, though, there’s a vulnerability in them that just breaks me. I may not feel comfortable opening up to anyone, but I can’t stand by and watch a decent person like Mia be miserable over my own inconsiderate actions.
“Come on,” I say, taking her hand in mine. Fuck the no-touching thing.
She peers down at my hand wrapped around hers but doesn’t fight it. “Where are we going now?” She wipes away some more tears. “Another filming location?”
I shake my head, a smile forming on my face. “No. I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”
“This place is so nice,” Mia says, walking in front of me as we approach our table in the restaurant at Club Harmony. It’s a medium-sized dining area with cherry wood walls and dim, romantic lighting. The circular tables all have a white tablecloth draped over them, with matching wooden chairs.
My heart skips a beat at Mia’s comment, but not in an exhilarating way. More in anI’m-concerned-for-my-lifekind of way. I hope the charms of the restaurant don’t make her cry again. If I keep doing this to her, she’s never going to want to be around me again.
“Peyton has a great eye for gorgeous spaces,” I say.
I walk over to Mia’s chair and pull it out for her. She smiles at me appreciatively, then sits down. I help her scoot her chair in, then take my seat.
“Can I get you started with anything to drink?” our waiter asks.
“Water for me,” I say, even though I am tempted to order a drink if Mia’s still feeling emotional. “Mia?”
“Water for me, too, thanks.”
The waiter nods, then heads to the back to retrieve our drinks.
I pick up the menu in front of me and open it up.
“Are you really friends with those guys?” Mia asks while we wait; it feels so out of the blue.
I raise both of my brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugs. “You just don’t fit in with them.”
“You think?”
She nods, then returns her attention back to her menu. “From what I know of you, you’re not like other producers. You have a bit more heart. Abit.”
I huff. “I’ll take the compliment. And yes, they are my friends. Not the kind you can talk about everything, but they are a good sport most of the time. As you’ve mentioned yourself, relationships are tricky in our industry,” I say, opting to skip the part about their pranks.
Our waiter returns with our drinks. He sets a glass down in front of both of us, then removes a small notepad and pencil. “Have you decided on what you’d like to order?”
“Mia, why don’t you go first,” I insist.
Her lips part, unprepared for me to let her order first. Jesus, has no man ever treated her respectfully? She constantly seems surprised by the most basic gestures.
She orders the herb-broiled chicken, while I opt for the steak au poivre with crab cakes on the side because why not? I collect both of our menus and pass them over to the waiter before he takes off once more.
“If you think so badly about producers, why do you want to become one?” I ask.
Mia peers up at me, another shocked look on her face. Her lips curl into a guilty smile before she sips her water through her straw. “Did Gavin spill my secrets?”
“Of course,” I say, resting my back against my chair. “He’s putty in my hands.”
“Is that so?” She laughs. “I thought I was the only one he had a soft spot for.”
“Please.” I scoff. “He was mine long before he was yours.”
She smiles from ear to ear. It’s the first time I’ve seen her genuinely happy all day. To be honest, I think this might be the first timeIwas responsible for making her laugh. Usually, she’s sends me scowls and sneers.
“The big difference between me and your friends is my financial status,” she says. “I didn’t grow up with money.”
