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The hostess showed them to a table near the window, with a less-than-stellar view of the brick wall next door. Ian wouldn’t have felt differently about the scenery if their seats overlooked a masterpiece of glory and nature. He was only looking one place.
Cheeks flushed from the cold, Mercy sat across from him, rubbing her fingers together and studying the drink menu with an intensity he wished was on him. When she’d turned away outside, Ian was worried she wouldn’t stop.
“Can I start you folks off with something to drink?” the waitress asked. According to her nametag, she was Greta.
“Water for me.” Ian wanted a clear head for this—or as clear as was possible, with Mercy around.
Mercy gave the girl a thin smile. “Greyhound for me.”
She was going straight for the hard liquor. That wasn’t good.
“Appetizer to go with that?” Greta tapped her pen on her pad. “I can’t serve you the drink unless you order food. And I need to see your ID.”
Mercy muttered something under her breath about stupid Utah drinking laws, and pulled out her driver’s license. “Chips and salsa, then.”
“Sure. Be right back.”
Mercy took her time putting her purse away, adjusting her phone in its pocket several times before letting the bag dangle from its strap on the back of her chair. She drummed her fingers on the table, shrugged out of her coat—that had to be a good sign, right?—and fiddled with the edge of the menu. She still wouldn’t look at him. “You wanted to talk?” Her tone wasn’t as icy as the air outside, but it was close.
There was so much to tell her. How amazing she looked. How much he missed her, though it had been less than two days since he saw her last. How intensely he wanted to give them a try. That all needed to wait. Apologizing was the priority, and he was prepared to grovel. Earning back the trust he destroyed with his careless words.
He sifted through his jumbled thoughts and tugged at one. “I’m not very good at this, and the thing about being around you is I say things without thinking...” Even before she scowled, he knew that wasn’t the right starting point.
“So this is my fault?” She pursed her lips.
“No. That’s not it.”
“The thing is you’re thinking it.” A current of exhaustion ran through her words. “That’s why you say it. What you’re not doing is filtering it. And I don’t want you to. I’d rather know up front you think poorly of my business prowess, than have you hide it.”
“I don’t think poorly of your work.” He’d dug himself an epic hole.
“Really? Your track record and actions imply otherwise.”
Time to stop hedging and start laying this all out. “I think the world of you, Mercy”—she raised her brows, and he continued before she could cut him off—“but I also think pretty highly of myself.”
The corners of her mouth twitched, as if she was fighting a smile, and a small laugh slipped out.
“I love that sound,” he said.
“This ranks pretty low on the list, as far as apologies go. As in, I’m not hearing one in the middle of all of this. Now, it’s true you’re up against some winners, and the competition is tough. Andrew’s a master of I’m sorry.”
Of course he was competing with the porn guy. He wasn’t jealous, but it did sting a little. “But you’re not with him, so he can’t be that good.”
“He’s not you.” She sighed. “And you being you doesn’t matter either, if the conversation keeps going in this direction.”
Now would be the wrong time to call her on how convoluted that was. “Does that mean I still have a chance to make things right?” he asked.
“I’m here.” She held up a finger, silencing him when he tried to speak. “But no more bullshit about how I make you say things you don’t want to. I want the unfiltered you.”
So much of what she said over the past week or so clicked into a complete image for Ian. Somewhere along the way, when Mercy was learning to be herself, he was forgetting and becoming what everyone else wanted instead. The revelation confirmed that his plan, the one big thing he wanted to do tonight besides apologize, was the right decision. He hoped she agreed. “Here’s the real, unfiltered truth. Though I’ve had a day to think about it, so it’s got some introspection behind it... and an intense desire for you.”
Greta returned with their drinks, but Mercy ignored hers. She nibbled on a chip instead.
“You ready to order?” Greta asked.
Ian looked at Mercy, who shook her head. He turned back to Greta. “Maybe some potato skins.”
Mercy ducked her head, but not before he saw her smile. “You remembered,” she said.
“You sound surprised. You never ordered anything else back then.”
Her smile grew. “Anyway, introspection helps us grow. It’s part of the learning process.”
“When did you figure all of this out?”
“You taught me.”
He didn’t remember doing that. “I’m a smart guy. I’m glad you listened.” He winked and put a laugh in his words. “I’m also sorry. So very, very sorry. It’s not that I think you don’t deserve the contract. You do. I know you earned it. I just couldn’t fathom that I’d done something to lose it, and I took that out on you...” He had more to say, but admitting guilt was hard enough. The next step terrified him.
“There’s more, isn’t there?”
Why did she have to read him so well? He tried to pull up the words, but instead got, “Does there have to be?”
“No. I’d take your apology as it stands; I don’t like hating you. But I can tell you have more to say.”
“I want a partnership.” There. That wasn’t so hard.
Except she was looking at him, brow furrowed, as if he spoke Swahili. “Is that some trendy-business-guy way of... You know what? I don’t know what you’re asking, and I’m not going to guess.”
“I’m talking about a business merger. Thompson Advertising and Graceful Exhibition Advertising.”
“Is that code for you buy me out, use my name as a secondary brand, and beat everything unique out of it while you lay off the handful of staff I have?”
She thought he’d do that? To anyone? He didn’t have a right to be offended, after what he accused her of. “I’m talking about being equal partners. Not me running things or buying anyone out. An actual merger. What you were talking about with Andrew? How quickly you can move and act on things? I want that for Thompson Advertising. The company needs it. And I’m hoping you feel like I bring something to the table too. This gives you access to a bigger budget and a new client list.”
“You’re not the only one with established contacts. It also gives you access to my list. Convenient.”
He was saying something wrong. “It does. I want this to be a mutually beneficial partnership.”
“Is this a way to get Liz back under your wing and working for you?”
“This is a way to get you working by my side. Not for me. Not answering to anyone. Why are you struggling with that?” He didn’t mean to let the irritation leak into his voice, but he couldn’t stop it.
“Life doesn’t work that way. Thompson Advertising is huge. Companies like yours don’t bow down to teensy little guys like me and say, please teach us.”
“Companies like them,” he said. “We need to adapt and change. I don’t want to think the way companies like them do. That’s why I’m making this offer. If we don’t have something you think would benefit you, tell me no. Bottom line is I can’t compete with you. Not because of the whole attraction thing, though that makes it difficult, but because you’ve got me beat, innovation-wise. I don’t want to be the other guy again, because competing with you terrifies me.” It felt odd to say it, but he knew she wouldn’t throw it in his face.
*
DESPITE MERCY’S ATTEMPT to keep a cool front, Ian’s offer floored her. When she agreed to stay, she expected a few pretty words, and she hoped to be moved enough to work things out and find some sort of common ground.
This, though... It tweaked her mind and obliterated her plausibility censors. Every instinct she had told her it was bullshit. She was tired of her cynical outlook. She wanted Ian’s offer to be real, for so many reasons. The business benefits were only one. She was ready to accept his apology before he made the offer, though she’d have doubted him for a long time. Pushed harder than she should, to make him prove it day after day. Now she knew he was sincere.
It didn’t mean she had to be stupid about the whole thing. “If I say yes, we’ll need to discuss details. We’re doing this by the book.” She dug into the food and ignored her drink. She thought the liquor would take the edge off, but Ian did a good job by himself.
“Really? Red tape and all?” He sounded amused but not surprised.
“Some things don’t get left to chance. There are other parties involved with this. I take care of my people. I want to see the contracts. We’ll both undergo due diligence. My lawyer will review everything.”
He shook his head, smile growing. “You always amaze me.”
“You thought I’d go into this blindly?”
“This is a work in progress for me. I didn’t think past how to get you on my side without stifling what makes you unique or taking away from your company. I don’t want you working for me or consulting or anything like that. This doesn’t work unless we’re equal partners.”
Damn it—why did he have to be all reasonable and complimentary? “Let’s put the whole thing in motion. No promises. Maybe you don’t have what I need, but I’m hoping you do.”
He traced his toe up her shin. “Me too.”
A yawn forced its way out, threatening to split her jaw. It had been a long few days.
Ian raised his brows. “Am I boring you?”
“No. Exactly the opposite.” The peace that evaded her last night settled in now. She felt comfortable and content. “But I haven’t slept since... Umm...” Her foggy thoughts resisted her attempt to find information. “Well, Saturday we screwed half the night. Sunday, we slept on the couch and not a lot, and Monday...”
“What about it?”
“I stayed up all night, hating you.”