Page 67 of Say You Remember Me
But it wasn’t just his looks or his presence that drew me to him. Beneath all the polish and power, Ian had a tenderness about him, a kindness that didn’t fit the image of the billionaire playboy the world seemed determined to see.
Watching him now, I was more certain than ever that he was the boy who had comforted me on the beach all those years ago. He couldn’t know how much that moment had meant to me. At seventeen, I’d been terrified, struggling with a secret thatfelt too big to carry alone. Ian had been the first person I’d told. And even though it could have gone so wrong—he could have been judgmental like so many other people in Ridgewater had been when they eventually found out about my pregnancy—he’d thankfully been a safe space that night. He’d been a gentle listener, a strong shoulder to lean on.
And even though he hadn’t swooped in to save me like some superhero in the movies, he said exactly what I’d needed to hear in that moment. He told me I’d be okay. That even though it felt like my world was falling apart, I would figure it out.
Those words had been everything. Not promises of miracles, not empty reassurances—just the steady reminder that I was stronger than I felt, and that I could take it one step at a time.
He didn’t know it, since I’d never gotten the chance to tell him, but Ian was the reason I found the courage to call my dad a few days later.
I could still remember how terrified I’d been, my heart racing as I whispered, “Dad… I’m pregnant.” But Ian’s quiet strength had become my own in that moment. His kindness, his belief in me, had given me the courage to say those daunting words to my ex-drill sergeant father. And in the years since, even as I navigated the hardest moments, I’d held onto that strength like an anchor.
“Ready to head down?” Ian’s voice broke through my thoughts, low and steady, grounding me in the present.
I turned toward him, smoothing the fabric of my dress out of habit, and froze when I saw the way he was studying me. His jaw slackened slightly, his gaze running the length of me from head to toe.
“You…” He cleared his throat, blinking a few times. “You look amazing, Maddie.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I quickly looked down as I adjusted my work bag on my shoulder. “Thanks.”
He smiled, stepping closer, his presence steadying yet electric all at once. “Shall we?”
I nodded, meeting his gaze again and giving him a tentative smile of my own. “Yeah,” I said softly. “Let’s go.”
For a moment, his deep brown eyes searched mine, like there was something he wanted to say but hadn’t quite found the words for—possibly something about what had happened last night. But even though the air between us shifted, heavy with unspoken questions, he seemed to decide it was not the time for that conversation because without a word, he stepped closer and reached for my hand instead.
Which, really, was probably all the conversation we needed. The simple gesture saying more than words ever could. And as the soft weight of his hand stayed firmly in mine as he led me out of his room, hope stirred in my chest.
Because maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t the start of something fake at all.
The green room was quieter than I’d expected, the stillness broken only by the soft, rhythmic sound of Ian’s footsteps as he paced across the carpet. His usual air of confidence was absent, replaced by something I hadn’t thought I’d ever see: nerves.
Ian Hastings didn’t seem like the kind of man who got nervous. Over the past few weeks, every time his presentation had come up, he’d been calm and self-assured, never breaking stride. But now, with just fifteen minutes to go before he was supposed to take the stage, the tension in his broad shoulders and the faint crease in his brow gave him away.
But, oddly enough, it made him even more endearing.
In the corner, I’d been chatting quietly with Kacie and Brock, Ian’s videographers, as they finalized their camera setup. One positioned on stage right, the other shooting from the front. They’d decided to add the graphics from Ian’s slides during editing to make the final video look sharp and professional.
We wouldn’t be able to release the recording until six months after the summit, thanks to the contract Ian had signed. But it was exciting to think that if Ian’s new YouTube channel went viral someday, I’d have played a small part in setting this up.
The faint sound of applause from the ballroom next door interrupted our conversation, signaling the end of the previous presentation.
Kacie and Brock exchanged quick nods before turning to Ian.
“We’re heading out to get everything set up,” Kacie said, offering Ian an encouraging smile. “Break a leg out there.”
Ian returned the smile, but the tension in his expression didn’t fully fade. “Thanks.”
As Brock and Kacie left the room, I walked over to Ian, my heels sinking slightly into the carpet with each step. He stopped pacing when I approached, his dark eyes landing on me with a mix of anticipation and something I couldn’t quite place.
“Do you need anything from me?” I asked softly.
He tipped his head to the side, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “How confident are you in your ability to teach for an hour on how business owners can thrive in any economy?”
I let out a startled laugh. “Not confident at all.”
He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Okay, well then…maybe just send me all the good vibes you can and hope I don’t look like an idiot up there.”
“You’re not going to look like an idiot.” I smiled, hoping it came across as reassuring. “I haven’t had the chance to see one of your presentations yet, but I heard what Drake said about youin college. Something about how your talks always left everyone impressed. I’m sure you’ll do great.”
