Gideon pressed send, then picked up his sandwich.
With ten minutesleft before eight o'clock, Megs checked her email. She sat up straight in her chair, and the instructor narrowed his eyes at her before continuing to talk about patient charts.
Professor Adams had already written back. She opened the message and scanned the text. Admissions to the program, blah blah blah,ah!Studios were available for students, she only needed to book a time slot at the given link.
A brief thought flickered, suggesting she wait until class ended to click, but Megs brushed it away. Her instructor was droning on about the assignment due tomorrow, and she already had the gist of it.
With a rush of adrenaline, Megs clicked on the link and navigated through the school's website, and for a moment, she felt like Alice, tumbling headfirst into Wonderland.
Red flag.
Megs loved and hated that feeling. She paused, her finger hovering over the Recording Studio Booking button as an empty void expanded within her. She couldnotpress it. She could set her phone down and listen to her instructor for the last few minutes of class. The emptiness would fade, at least she had enough life experience to know that.
But was this irresponsible? It wasn't costing her anything besides the gas to drive up here, and she could try to book it when she was coming up for class anyway. Maybe they'd have a slot tomorrow, which would give her enough time to submit an audition for the competition.
Theoretically.
If she were entering.
She clicked, and relief flooded her system as the screen changed. A calendar opened up.Tomorrow. They had openings on Saturday, but only . . . Megs' heart dropped. Only starting at five o'clock? Who opened up recording sessions on a Saturday night?
Megs scanned the time slots and realized they opened at 1 p.m., but the other slots had already been booked. There was a single opening. Five to six o’clock. Her certification class started at five-thirty.
She slumped in her chair and rested her head on her hand, idly drawing circles around the button with her mouse. How long did it take to record a short audition? Did she even know what the audition was?
Megs sat up and searched for the Oscar Calloway audiobook competition. The first hit was the author's website. She clicked and stared at the man beaming back at her in the banner at the top of the site.Was this guy real?His dirty blond hair was thick and wavy, his skin tanned, and his eyes a striking pale blue. He looked like he'd just walked out of a surfing magazine, donned a linen suit, and was caught mid-very intriguing conversation. This was Oscar Calloway?
She scrolled down until she found the PDF of the audition scene from the female main character's perspective and clicked.
Elena's heartpounded as she confronted Nathan in the dimly lit room. She stared into his piercing eyes, her voice trembling with pent-up anger and hurt. "How could you do this, Nathan? I trusted you!"
Nathan's face contorted with guilt, but there was still that flicker of defiance dancing in his eyes. That fire was what kept her in his orbit even when she should be clawing to break free.
He took a step closer, his voice laced with regret. "Elena, I never meant to hurt you. I made a mistake, and I'm sorry. But you have to understand—”
"Understand? Understand what, Nathan? That you can just waltz back into my life, leaving chaos in your wake?"
Her voice caught on the last word as their eyes locked. Yes. That's exactly what he would do. What he'd always done.
The air crackled between them, and as Nathan inched forward, Elena knew that no matter what came out of his mouth, she'd already lost.
"It's because I love you, Elena. I've always loved you. But I thought I had to protect you, keep you safe."
"From what?"
"From me!" he exploded. "From who I am! Who I've become."
"I don't need a protector, Nathan."
"Don't you?" He took another step.
"Not from you." Her words were barely more than a whisper. Nathan stopped so close, Elena could feel his hot breath on her cheek. Heat from his body washed over her, eroding the walls she'd built around her heart.
"But what if I want to protect you? What if I want . . . " Nathan's eyes softened, his gaze filled with longing and a touch of desperation. He reached out, his hand trembling as it caressed her cheek.
Elena caught his hand in hers. "You left me, Nathan. You left and didn't say a word."
Nathan dropped his head and pressed his forehead to hers. "Because there was too much to say."
