Chapter 14

Gideon stepped out onto Matt's back patio and sucked in a breath to keep his ribs from cinching tight around his lungs. The space was an oasis. Lush greenery edged the stonework and gas fireplace, and twinkling fairy lights were strung overhead, connected to who knew what.

He’d known based on news and social media feeds that Matt was doing well, but this house? It was next level. Not that he was jealous, he loved his townhouse. Loved his neighborhood. But he couldn't help but feel a bit emasculated knowing that he and Matt had once stood together at the same starting line.

"Isn't this place amazing?" Alli gushed, her eyes wide as she spun in a circle. She leaned in closer, her body brushing against his as she nudged him with her elbow.

“It really is.” Gideon drew a deep breath and exhaled. He needed to shake off work or there was no way he was going to have a good time. He’d made good on his promise to help Jennifer with her mid-term project and met with her at the recording studio.

Right as they were about to finish up, Donna Stace, an art history professor, had peered through the window and knocked. She hadn’t even waited until Jennifer was out of earshot to express her concerns at walking through the hall to find him meeting one-on-one with a young female student.

Matt brushed their compliments off. “You should’ve seen this place in the summer. It was a complete wreck. The previous owners hadn’t kept the landscaping up, and we had to re-plumb the entire house.”

Gideon felt a bit better about that. His townhouse had been built in two-thousand and fifteen, which meant he’d have a few more years before he’d have to replace anything significant. Knock on wood. “You’d never be able to tell.”

Matt smiled, and Gideons shoulders relaxed a bit. Ms. Stace didn’t know what she was talking about, but maybe it would be a good idea to have another student or teacher present during those sessions in the future. He’d already thought about it more than once. It couldn’t hurt. If the college would finally hire some TA’s it would be a non-issue.

The two women from the restaurant were there taking pictures of the spread and Oscar. Gideon was mid-thought about how he hoped they wouldn’t snap any photos of him when the patio door opened and Megs stepped out along with a man dressed in cheetah print pants. She looked between the three of them. “We followed the signs.”

“Perfect.” Matt clapped his hands together. “Everyone, this is Emile. He’ll be our acting coach for the evening. If you’d like to grab a plate . . . ”

Matt continued to explain the snacks his assistant had set out on the half-bar next to the fireplace, but Gideon couldn’t focus. Megs wore an oversized forest green sweater that made her eyes shine. Her curls were swept up into a clip, but a few tendrils had escaped and framed her face. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, but she’d applied something to her lips that made them pink and glossy.

Emile clapped his hands together, and Gideon started. “Alright! Dish up and take a seat. Tonight, we're going to try something a little different.”

Alli shot Gideon a look and he shrugged. Different didn’t mean much to him. The last acting classes he’d taken had been in college, and he doubted he remembered a single thing. Why was he still here? He didn’t care about winning this competition, and while the platform would be nice, he didn’t know if it was worth it. Did he want to make a name for himself as a romance narrator? Was any publicity good publicity?

Gideon dropped a few strawberries on his plate, then chose some crackers and cheese from the charcuterie board. It wasn’t just the promise of a platform. The second he’d submitted that audition, he’d committed to seeing this through with Matt for old-time’s sake. Though, had he known that Alli was involved—

“That color is gorgeous on you.” Matt stood next to Megs at the bar counter. Gideon's stomach clenched as Matt offered to fill her glass, then put a hand on her shoulder as he leaned past her to pick up the bottle opener.

Alli leaned in. “I think Mattie has a crush.”

Gideon stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

Alli looked up, her fingers on the olive fork. “You haven’t noticed how he always ends up next to her?”

Gideon's mouth went dry. “How could I? This is only the second time we’ve all been together.”

“I think I heard he visited a few of the contestants one on one. You know, the four he didn’t know ahead of time.”

Had he and Megs spent time together? Was Matt not only trying to play matchmaker with his four friends, but also with himself? The idea of Megs falling for Oscar Calloway made his stomach twist. Not that Matt wasn’t a good person. He was. But Megs . . . Gideon’s grip tightened on the serving fork.

He wanted her. When he’d seen Megs in the coffee shop, he’d been intrigued, but after arguing with her in his office, he’d started to sink. That was why he waited for her in the parking lot. Why he’d taken her to Sammy’s. Why he’d kissed her after they’d only spent one evening together.

There was something wild and intriguing about her. He didn’t ever know what to expect. Every movement she made, every word that left her lips felt like a present he was unwrapping. Everything in his life was so predictable, she felt like a fresh spring breeze through a house that had been boarded up for winter.

Megs was his student, but she wouldn’t be forever. He couldn’t have her now, but the second the semester ended, he was planning to use that number in his phone. He had to wait, and he understood that being forced into patience was playing tricks on him. Only making his longing worse.

But Matt didn’t have to wait. Matt wasn’t Megs’ professor, and there was no reason why he couldn’t make a move. The idea of it made Gideon want to crush something. He wanted Megs. And Matt already had everything else.

“I didn’t know how much you liked pickles.” Alli grinned, and Gideon looked down to see he’d put six cornichons on his plate.

Once they’d all sat at the table, Emile produced a jar filled with small slips of paper. "As actors, it's essential to be in touch with ourselves. These questions are designed to help you explore your innermost thoughts and feelings.”

Gideon shot Matt a look. Was this a therapy session? “I thought we needed to get in touch with our characters.”

Emile looked affronted. “How can you look outward when you don’t know what lies here?” He put his hands over his heart. “You need to know what you’re working with—what you can draw from.”

Matt glanced between him and Alli, then smiled at Megs next to him. Ah. Not a therapy session. More like a reality dating show. He wanted to be there for his friend, but he didn’t know how long he’d last if this continued. He glanced up to see Megs put a strawberry in her mouth. Nevermind.

"Let's see . . . " Emile swirled his hand around the jar before plucking out a slip. "Gideon, you're up first. Your question is: 'Why do you want to be a voice actor?'"

Gideon blinked, then turned to Matt. "They’re not filming this, are they?” He pointed at the photographers.

Matt shook his head. “Just photos for the website and social media.”

Gideon nodded. “Well. I didn't know I wanted to be a voice actor until recently. Care to comment on that, Oscar?”

Matt grinned. “What can I say? Sometimes others can see the potential in us that we miss.”

Alli put an arm on his shoulder. He forced himself not to flinch. “You didn’t want to do this audition?”

“No, did you?”

She laughed. “Of course, I was flattered he asked me to submit!”

Matt grinned, leaning back in his chair, all charm and confidence. "Gideon has always loved performing.”

"Music," Gideon interjected. “I’m not an actor.”

“You performed?” Megs looked up at him curiously.

Gideon hesitated, then explained as fast as possible. "We started our band during senior year of high school. Oscar wrote most of the lyrics, I was on guitar, and Randall on keys. But eventually, Oscar discovered creative writing, and the band sort of fell apart when we all went our separate ways."

"Wow," Megs breathed out, flicking a glance at Alli. "So what did you do after that?"

"I pursued audio engineering.”

“And toured,” Alli added, lifting her sparkling water from the table and swirling it in her glass.

Gideon’s neck heated. It wasn’t that he didn’t like talking about his college days, but it carried more weight talking about it here. He’d blamed Matt for their band falling apart, and Alli blamed their relationship ending on his leaving. “I toured with a couple of bands, The Vagrant Souls and Celestial Echo, as their sound engineer.”

“What?” Megs dropped her fork and stared at him open-mouthed, as if to say, I told you what you do is sexy.

Gideon swallowed hard. “It was a fantastic experience, but it wasn't paying the bills, so I got my master's degree and started teaching."

Alli brushed her hair behind her ear and looked down at her plate. What was she thinking about all this? What was Megs thinking about him? Thinking about Alli? She’d asked about her at Sammy’s, and Gideon didn’t want to do or say anything else that made her question his intentions there.

“Interesting,” Emile commented, as if it was anything but. He picked up the jar and reached for another question. He pulled out the slip, read it, and turned to Megs with a salacious look in his eyes. "What was or is your most romantic relationship?"

Megs blinked. That was quite the change of topic. This had to be the strangest coaching session she’d encountered, and that was saying something considering her twisted past relationship.

She had two choices. She could make up an answer and sell it, or she could tell the truth. Why would she tell the truth? Megs barely knew Calloway and Alli, and didn’t relish the thought of baring her soul to Emile who’d been texting for half of their past few minutes of conversation.

She was about to answer with a quip about Jace Sorensen passing her a Do you want to date me? Yes or no? note in fourth grade, but then looked up at Gideon. He was watching her, his eyes dark as he adjusted his glasses.

Her throat went dry. "Well, this is going to be a bit of a letdown, but I've never had one." Gideon’s eyes didn’t move. Megs’ heart started to sprint, and she felt like a tube of toothpaste being slowly squeezed until more words tumbled out of her mouth. “My longest relationship was actually with my first acting coach in Chicago, and unless you find controlling and manipulative romantic, I would say that doesn’t count.”

Oscar shook his head and leaned over the table, fixing his blue eyes on her. “Definitely doesn’t.”

Alli sighed. “But what is romance anyway? No offense, Matt, but these things you write in your books, they don’t happen in real life.”

Oscar looked amused. “What doesn’t happen in real life?”

“The grand gestures, the emotional availability, the perfect love making,” Alli said with dramatic flair. Exactly. Megs took a bite of her cracker stack. That was why she didn’t read romance novels. It was hard enough to find a decent guy, the last things she needed were hopes and expectations.

“Is that what we’re supposed to be looking for?” Alli asked.

“Why not?” Oscar’s face was serious now. “Why wouldn’t we look for that? And I don’t mean sit around and wait for it to happen to us, but why wouldn’t we try to be that person and look for it in return?”

Megs’ smile faltered. Because it’s too disappointing. Because I’ll never be the heroine of a romance novel. Because, because, because.

“Because it’s in the wrong order,” Gideon stated. Megs looked up. All eyes turned to him.

“What do you mean?” Oscar asked.

Gideon cleared his throat. “Romance doesn’t come first. It comes second.”

“To what?” Oscar leaned over the table, and Megs pulled her arms back so they wouldn’t brush his.

“To knowing someone. Understanding them at a level you can’t get to in a short story.”

Megs could practically hear Alli swoon. Or maybe that was her? Because that was it. That was what she wanted. Not the flowers sent to her desk or the serenade outside her window. Just someone who knew her. Who saw her for exactly who she was, and wasn’t disappointed.

Oscar sighed and leaned back. “Well, where were you six years ago?” They all laughed, and Megs brushed off her fingers over her plate. “Just for the record, though, I think you can get there in a story. If the character’s desires and motivations are consistent.”

Megs looked up and met Oscar’s eyes as he reached for his glass of champagne. He’s charming, funny, single. Her skin tingled.

“Next question, I think,” Gideon said brusquely. Megs looked up at Emile with the jar and caught Alli refilling Gideon’s glass. Just getting reacquainted, actually. Her heart sank. They’d been together for two years and neither of them had wanted to call it quits. But why hadn’t they looked each other up before now?

“More questions later, I’m feeling improvisation.” Emile clapped his hands together and motioned for them to stand.

Megs was grateful for something to do, and she loved improv under normal circumstances. Normal being a class where everyone was used to making fools of themselves.

"First up," Emile announced, pulling a card from his pocket, "we're going to do a little game called 'Freeze!' Two people will start a scene, and at any point, someone from the outside can yell 'freeze,' take the place of one of the actors, and start a new scene based on the last line spoken."

Oscar stood next to her. “You two can go first.” He pointed at Gideon and Alli. Megs worked to keep the smile off her face at the look of consternation on Gideon’s.

“The scene prompt is ‘late for work,’” Emile called out.

Alli backed up a few steps and strode forward. “Oh! Malcolm, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Gideon looked stiff and uncomfortable. He paused long enough that Alli whispered something to help get him started. “Can we talk?”

Alli flipped her hair. “No, Malcolm, I’m late for work.”

“It’s important.” Gideon stood stock still.

“Do you think I should put him out of his misery?” Oscar whispered, and Megs laughed and nodded.

“Freeze!” Oscar called out, then strode over and tapped Gideon’s shoulder. Gideon retreated to stand next to Megs.

“What’s important?” Alli asked, picking up where they’d left off.

Oscar laughed. “You have the audacity to ask that question? You know I’ve been waiting for this day for five years.”

Gideon picked up his glass off the table. “Do you think I could fake a stomach bug?”

“Based on that display? No.” Megs grinned. “I think you have a bit more to learn from Emile.”

The corner of Gideon’s mouth twitched. They watched Oscar and Alli spar until Emile pointed at Megs. Her heart leaped in her chest, and when Oscar said, “It wasn’t my fault!” she yelled, “Freeze!”

Her cheeks heated as she took Alli’s place. Megs looked up at Oscar, his face still contorted with anger. “Let me get this straight. You’re saying it wasn’t your fault that my water glass hasn’t been filled for over twenty minutes? Is there another waiter that’s supposed to be taking care of me?”

Oscar drew a deep breath and placed one arm behind his back. “No, madame, what I meant was, it wasn’t my fault that I failed to notice your empty glass. I couldn’t stop staring at the lobe of your ear.”

Megs barely kept her face straight. Oscar’s eyes twinkled. “The lobe of my ear?” It was the only thing she could get out without laughing out loud.

“It looks like velvet.”

Megs pursed her lips. “It won’t look like velvet if I become dehydrated.” She reached out and mimed picking up her glass, then lifted her hand with gusto at the exact moment Oscar bowed deeply.

Her fist connected with Oscar’s cheekbone and he yelped.

Megs gasped and grabbed onto him. “Oh my gosh, Oscar. I’m so sorry.”

Alli and Emile howled with laughter, and Oscar’s shoulders were shaking. Was he crying? She’d just punched Oscar Calloway in the face.

Megs loosened her grip on his forearms as he straightened, and she saw his face contorted in laughter, too. “I’m so sorry, Oscar I—”

“No, it was hilarious.” Oscar dropped his hand to reveal his red and swollen cheek.

Megs grabbed his hand. “Come inside. Let me get you some ice.”

“Megs, you don’t need to do that. I’m—”

She ignored his protestations and pulled him through the sliding glass doors, then pushed him toward one of the bar stools next to the shining granite countertop and strode to the stainless steel refrigerator. On the freezer side, she found an ice pack sitting in the door.

“At least you’re well prepared,” she murmured as she closed the door and rounded the countertop.

“Never know when you’re going to get a fist to the face.”

Megs snorted and held the ice pack against his cheek. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve seen you dropping, and—”

Oscar put his hand over hers. “Can you stop apologizing please?”

Megs closed her mouth and nodded. He didn’t pull his hand from hers, and the ice pack under her palm made the warmth from his skin even more palpable.

“Are you having a good time?” he asked.

“Of course.”

Oscar exhaled. “I only ask since you tried to drop out of the competition no less than four times the other night.”

Megs’ eyes widened, and she felt like smacking him a second time. “You caught that, huh?”

Oscar chuckled and let his arm fall. “Of course I did, but I wasn’t going to let you out of it that easy. Your audition was too good.”

Megs shook her head. “I doubt that carries much weight.”

Oscar reached up and this time took the ice pack from her. “What do you mean by that?”

No longer needed, Megs took a step back and folded her arms. “You know what I mean. These are your friends and you don’t know me from Eve.”

Oscar set the ice pack on the counter, appraising her. “This competition isn’t only about the narration.”

Megs gave a look of mock surprise. “No, really?”

Oscar held up his hands in defense. “But it also is about the narration. I simply saw an opportunity to do both.”

“Both?” Megs’ eyes narrowed.

“Remind my friends who they are. What they’ve lost over the last thirteen years.”

Megs leaned against the counter. “Each other?”

Oscar replaced the ice pack on his cheek. “No, though that would be an added bonus. All of them gave up on their dreams to do something more practical, and I wanted to show them they could think bigger.”

“You don’t think they’re happy.”

He scoffed. “I know they’re not happy.”

“How?” Every time Gideon had mentioned Matt or Alli he made it sound like they hadn’t seen each other in years. How would Oscar Calloway know enough about their lives to make a judgement call like that?

“Because I understand them, deep down. What Gideon said out there? About knowing people before you could find romance? Those are the friends I understand better than anyone else in the world, especially Gideon. I grew up with him. We’ve known each other almost our entire lives.”

Megs pondered this. “And you don’t think people can change?”

“Of course they can change, but they can’t become someone fundamentally different. Gideon is an artist. I’m sure he’s a sight to behold in a classroom, but his heart is that of a creative. He won’t ever truly be satisfied there.”

“And Alli?”

Oscar dropped the ice pack and looked out the back windows. “Alli loves to make music. But more than that, she’s never been the same since Gideon left.”

Megs swallowed the lump in her throat. “You think she needs him back.”

Oscar exhaled and shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I know that she won’t ever find herself again if she continues to work at some CEO’s beck and call.” He looked up and fixed his eyes on her. “The world poured a bucket of water over both their glowing fires, and I’m just trying to breathe on the coals.”

Megs’ grip tightened on her arms. The line was cheesy, but somehow it didn’t sound laughable coming out of Oscar’s mouth.

The back door slid open and Megs’ head snapped up. Gideon stood on the mat, his hands shoved into his pockets. “Will he survive?”

Oscar sighed dramatically. “Only because of Megs’ quick thinking with the ice pack.”

Megs rolled her eyes and started back toward the patio. “Maybe we should call the Sugar Creek paper and have them do an exclusive op-ed?”

Oscar groaned and stood from the stool. “We should’ve filmed it! You could’ve posted it on your channel.”

Gideon’s brow lowered. “You have a channel?”

Megs waved him off, embarrassed. The last thing she needed was anyone she knew in real life searching up her socials. “I posted about Oscar’s challenge to try to help spread news about the books.”

“She’s single-handedly propelling my pre-orders.”

As the three of them stepped back onto the patio, Megs couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as Alli rushed back to Gideon’s side. She hasn’t been the same since Gideon left. “I think I’d better head home. Thanks, Emile.”

“Us, too.” Alli nodded in agreement. Us? Had she and Gideon driven together?

They gathered their things and offered to help Oscar clean up, but he insisted his team would take care of it. The two women who’d been snapping photos all night were already packing up the drinks.

Oscar walked them back through the house to the front door. “Thanks for being good sports.”

Alli leaned in close to Gideon and whispered something that made him smile, but Megs didn’t have time to ruminate on it.

“Where did you do your acting training?” Emile asked as he slipped on his shoes.

“Chicago, you?”

“New York.”

Megs zipped up her boots. “You didn’t stay in the city?”

“I’m going back in the new year. Needed a break.”

Oscar clapped him on the shoulder. “Lucky for us. My agent is Emile’s aunt, so she let me know he was back in town for the holidays.”

Megs smiled. “City life can get old quick.”

“Right?” Emile waved and walked out the door as Megs pulled on her jacket.

“So you’re helping your friends and your agent’s nephew?”

Oscar shook his head, but didn’t refute the statement. Oscar was kind-hearted. Even if he was playing Cupid, Megs could see why Gideon had been friends with him for so long. And possibly why he’d do something that made him uncomfortable because Oscar had asked. “Why didn’t you and Gideon stay in touch?”

“That was my fault. We’ve done a few things over the years, but I get so caught up in my own opportunities, I haven’t put much time into my relationships.”

Megs nodded. Maybe this competition was a bit of penance, too. “Thank you again, Oscar.” She turned to the door.

“You didn’t try to quit tonight.”

She laughed. “There’s still time.”