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And I feel something sharp twist in my chest.

I thank the staff, nod to Eliza, and open the car door. “Come on,” I say to Mia. “Passenger side.”

She hesitates. Her eyes shift to Brody.

“He’s not coming?”

“I’ve got things to do,” Brody says, already stepping toward the second car. “Meetings, phone calls, chaos. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gives her a casual salute, then slides into the backseat.

Mia doesn’t move for a second. Her fingers tighten around the flowers. I see the flicker in her eyes—hesitation, discomfort, maybe even regret. She doesn’t want to be alone with me. Ithurts, but I can’t blame her. At this point, we’re practically strangers with how silent we’ve both been.

Still, she nods once and walks to the passenger door. Slides in without a word.

I get in and start the car.

We pull out of the lot, city lights unfolding around us, familiar and jarring all at once.

“Are you taking me to my hotel?” she asks finally.

I don’t answer right away. I wait until we hit the freeway before I say, “No. You’re coming to my penthouse.”

Her head jerks toward me. “Excuse me?”

“It’s easier this way. You can keep an eye on everything. Make sure I don’t ditch the date tomorrow.”

“Is that an actual possibility?”

I shrug. “You already know I’m not interested in meeting Hayley tomorrow. If you’re not there, there’s no guarantee I’ll show up. I’m just being honest.”

She goes quiet. I don’t look at her, but I can feel the heat rolling off her like a second sun in the car.

She hates this. Hates me, probably.

But she’s here, and in the midst of everything in my life right now, it gives me a certain peace.

Minutes later, the elevator opens directly into the penthouse, and Mia steps in like she’s walking into enemy territory. I don’t blame her. The space is all glass, steel, and too much silence.Even with the lights on, it feels cold. Not like the cozy hominess of my house in Bardstown. Who would have thought I’d miss that small town only hours after leaving?

Mia doesn’t say anything as she walks through, just holds the flowers like a shield against whatever this place feels like to her. I nod toward the hallway.

“Your room’s down here.”

She follows, arms crossed tight now, the quiet between us stretching like a rubber band begging to snap. I open the door to the guest suite and step aside.

“There’s fresh sheets and a ridiculous view. Someone will bring the luggage up.”

She finally looks at me. “Thanks,” she says, neutral but polite. She starts to close the door, then pauses.

“Oh, and Jack?” Her voice is softer, but not kind. “Please be a gentleman and text Hayley in the morning. Remind her of the date, tell her you can’t wait to see her. That kind of thing.”

I stiffen. “I know how to be a gentleman, Mia.”

She tilts her head slightly, eyes cool.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Then—slam.