Page 24 of Mr. Not Nice Guy

Not even after ayear and a halfof us dating. Ayear and a halfof us having a perfectly pleasant and wonderful relationship. Never so much as a single fight or major disagreement.Eighteen months’worth of being totally comfortable and happy together.

And that’s when it was crystal clear.

Happy as we were together, as much fun as we’d had all that time,Ijust wasn’t enough.

Icould never give her what she wanted, becauseIwasn’thim.

Connor.

The boyfriend she’d had right before she started college who was—in Liza’s own words because we never shied away from the topic of our previous relationships—the love of her life. As nice as I was, as happy as we were, as well as I treated her, it just wasn’t enough to compete with the unfettered passion they’d had.

The trouble with that kind of passion was it lacked stability—which was exactly why he’d broken her heart and left her gun-shy about men and relationships in general. I knew all of this about her from our second date, which was why I was always gentle and easy and careful with her. And it worked to my favor because our relationship was the longest she’d ever had, including longer than the one she’d had with Connor.

But it was clear then, sitting across the couch from her while we avoided looking at each other, that being gentle, easy, careful, andnicewasn’t enough to compel her to want anything more with me.

Connor broke her heart, and that caused her to unwittingly break mine.

Liza was remarkable, beautiful, smart as hell, and way out of my league, but we seemed to be a great fit despite that.

Iloved her, I was ready to spend the rest of my life with her, but she was never going to want that with me, because I just wasn’t enough for her.

Sitting across from me now, Liza’s still drumming her chin while avoiding my gaze.

“Is everything okay?” I prompt her.

“Uh…I don’t know.” She folds her hands on the desk and finally looks at me. “I’m a little worried about you and Scarlett.”

I fight the urge to make a face. “How so?”

Liza draws in a breath. “She’s apparently having a family emergency. Something about her grandmother.” She pauses and peers at me. “And she calledBrennanto ask to speak tome. When I asked her if she wanted to talk toyou, she said she doesn’t feel comfortable talking to you about things like that. She said she thinks you’re going to let her go.” Liza sits up taller, and her expression hardens. “I hope you haven’t led her to believe you would orcoulddo that to her.”

This is suddenly as awkward as the moment on my couch from ten years ago, because Liza is now myboss,and in my entire career, I haveneverhad to be reprimanded foranything.

“We have been struggling a little to find common ground on a few things, and I’m just…” I lift my shoulders. “I don’t know, Liza. She’s kind of a handful. She doesn’t seem to be taking this seriously, and she’s insistent upon causing a scene whenever—”

“Well, you need to be able to handle that,” Liza clips, dark, elegant brows high on her forehead. “You’re the seasoned pro at all this, and she’s new, andshe’sthe talent. She’samazing, and it was only a matter of time before some other label was going to snatch her up. We can’t lose her. And if she feels like she can’t trust hermanager, especially if she’s going through a personal crisis, we just might.” Liza turns her palms over and sits back in her chair as her frustration with me practically radiates off of her. “I haveneverheard of you having any kind of issue withanyother artist. Do not let her be the first. Whatever is going on,fix it.” She pauses again, fluttering her eyelashes for a second. “Please do not make me bring up your salary, commissions, and quotas. I don’t want to be in that position withanyone, least of all you. You came here with the promise that you would do everything in your power to fill the void Connor left behind.” At this, her eyes start to glitter and the tip of her nose turns pink. “Connor wouldneverallow one of his artists to feel like they couldn’t trust him. Just…” Her voice falters, and I don’t think I could feel more like a piece of shit. “Just…please…August…I need better from you.”

Well, I needed better fromyou,but I never got it.

But I don’t say that. I’d never say that. Especially not when she’s this upset over something that is completely understandable and warranted.

“You have my word that I will fix it,” I say earnestly. “I’m sorry, Liza. For all of it.”

She nods, but knowing Liza and her tendency to weep at the drop of a hat in the aftermath of such a loss, I know she’s about to have a good,longcry.

So, I stand up and offer the only thing I know will make her feel better. “Do you want me to ask Brennan to come in here?”

She hides her face behind her hands and nods again.

Stepping out of the office, I wave at Brennan, who’s across the open-concept room, chatting with Luke, Jimmy, and Frankie, the label’s graphic designer. He steps away from them and approaches me.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

I tilt my head in a gesture at the open office door. “She’s having a tough moment.”

His expression shifts sharply to worry, and his strides lengthen as he marches toward the office and steps inside.

“L.,” he says, voice urgent with concern. “Honey…come here, sweetheart.”

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