why are you flipping out now? So you had a crush on him as a kid. Big deal. It’s ancient history.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me...”
“No.” She resisted the urge to check her nose to see if it was growing after that whopper. “I just don’t know what I can say that will convince him to take this part.”
“Tell him what you told me when I came on as director. That you wrote The Lesser Vessel because you want to help other women in the same situation find the courage to get the hell out.”
Courage. Hah. What did she know about courage?
“Please, Holls,” Ethan begged, blessedly interrupting the dark turn of her thoughts. “It’s our best chance of getting this show off the ground.”
“You want me to admit he’d be playing my ex-husband? Blurt out my whole sordid life story?”
“Okay, skip that part. But let him know how important the message of this show is. Not just to you but to the whole production team. We believe in you and your play, Holly. He will, too, if you give him the chance.”
“Well, when you put it that way...” She took a deep breath, then blew it out loudly through pursed lips. “Fine. I’ll go.”
“And if the subject of your past relationship comes up...”
“I told you. There’s nothing to discuss. There is—was—no relationship.” Holly made her way to the door. “I’m beginning to regret this already. Remind me again why you can’t join me on this little errand?”
“It’s Jean-Michel’s birthday. He’ll kill me if I’m late for the celebratory dinner I supposedly planned for him that was really all his doing. Besides,” he teased, his eyes sparkling and one corner of his mouth turned up mischievously, “you know what they say.”
“What?”
“Three’s a crowd.”
She rolled her eyes and turned to leave.
“Holly, wait. I know I might sound flip, but this is serious.” His words—and his tone—made her pause with one hand on the doorknob. “Clark’s a first-class jack hole who deserves to be put in front of a firing squad. But he’s your past. It’s time to start thinking about your future.”
He crossed to her and squeezed her shoulder. “You’ve been alone long enough. And you might never get a chance like this again. Don’t you owe it to yourself to figure out what this crazy chemistry between you and People’s Sexiest Man Alive is about?”
She turned to him, tears threatening to spill over. “Damn you, Ethan. How am I supposed to stay mad at you when you say stuff like that?”
“You’re not.” He smiled, flashing a solitary dimple on his left cheek. “Just don’t let it get around. I’ve got a reputation as a tough guy to uphold.”
“If you say so.” With a final squeeze, she stepped out of his embrace and wiped her eyes.
“He’s staying at the Marquis.” He handed her a business card with the hotel’s address scrawled on the back. “Room 1008.”
HOLLY CHECKED THE card in her hand once more before knocking on the door: 1008. Good. She was in the right place.
Or the wrong place.
She exhaled loudly, shaking off her doubts, and knocked. She was there to talk. Just talk. She was a grown woman, for goodness’ sake, not a hormonal teenager. She wasn’t going to be distracted by...
The door swung open and any thoughts of talking—not to mention her ability to talk at all—deserted her. Nick stood framed in the doorway, a skimpy hotel towel wrapped loosely around his waist. He was still damp from the shower, those washboard abs she’d speculated about earlier on full display.
So much for not being distracted.
He leaned against the doorjamb. “You’re not Garrett.”
“I-I’m sorry for barging in like this,” she stammered, finding her voice and trying not to ogle the firm, wet flesh of his bare chest and arms. She swallowed. Hard. “Guess I should have called first.”
“No, it’s...it’s fine.” He stepped back to wave her in and the towel slipped to his hips, giving her a view of the trail of fine, dark hair leading from his navel to the promised land. She licked her lips. “Just give me a minute to put something on.”
Don’t bother on my account.
“You can wait in here.” He led her into a sunken living room, complete with not one but two plush sofas and a Steinway piano, and disappeared into what she presumed was the bedroom.
Heart pounding, she wandered to the piano, setting her clutch down and fingering the keys. “Do you play?” she called out, desperate to fill the awkward silence.
“No,” he answered from the other room. “Garrett insisted I have the Presidential Suite. I’d have been happy in a regular guest room, but Garrett’s a top-of-the-line kind of guy.”
She left the piano and moved to a wall of windows overlooking Times Square, absorbing the spectacular view. Almost as spectacular as the view of Nick’s butt in that towel...
“He can be a jerk when things aren’t going his way, but I trust him,” Nick continued as he came back into the lounge. “He’s got my best interests at heart.”
Holly turned from the window to face him. Holy hotness, Batman! He’d zipped himself into another pair of jeans, just as snug as the ones he’d had on before but even more faded and ripped at one knee, and was buttoning a light gray sports shirt. He padded toward her on bare feet with the easy grace of a man comfortable in his own skin.
If she could bottle that self-confidence and sell it, she’d be a millionaire. Or maybe he could give her lessons....
He lowered himself onto one of the couches and motioned for her to join him, but she shook her head. She could barely think straight with him all the way across the room. She didn’t stand a chance up close and personal.
“So what brings you here?” he asked. “Ted and Judith send you to change my mind?”
She wanted to tell him the truth. Really, she did. But when she opened her mouth, something entirely different came out. “Not exactly. I, uh, wanted to apologize. For my behavior today in the conference room. I was inexcusably rude.”
He glanced at the platinum Rolex on his left wrist. “You came all the way across town at rush hour to apologize?” He leaned back and crossed his arms behind his head. His biceps bulged beneath his shirt sleeves.
Her mouth went dry. Good Lord, the man was unsettling. “Well, yes. It was such a surprise, seeing you. I reacted...poorly.”
Right.
