Gideon’s eyes were on her. He wasn’t wearing headphones. He leaned into the mic, and his voice piped in. “Got it. Did you want to re-record anything?”
Megs shook her head, her cheeks on fire. “As long as you think it’s okay to submit.” She didn’t know what she’d do differently if she tried. He nodded, and she unplugged her phone, picked up her bag, then strode through the door into the booth. “Was that workable?”
She tried to stay casual. Professional. As if she read romance scenes in front of hot college professors regularly. When Gideon looked away, she wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans.
Gideon clicked through screens on the computer. “Mmhmm. I’m just saving the files.” He didn’t meet her eyes as he put out a hand. “If you give me your laptop, I can transfer them.”
Megs nodded and pulled it from her bag, her heart sinking.Was it that bad?He hadn’t said anything about her performance, though why would he? He was there to help her record, he wasn’t an acting coach. Still, that need for validation plunked down unsatisfied in her chest.
She opened the laptop and signed in. “Thank you. I really appreciate your help.”
Gideon transferred the files, then handed it back to her. “All set.”
Megs put the computer back in her bag and only then thought about the time. She pulled her phone from her back pocket, and her eyes widened. “I’m late.”
“Late?”
“For that certification class. It started at five-thirty.” Her pulse quickened. It was five-forty, and she still had to walk to the next building.How had it taken her forty minutes to record?She started the mental math.
Even though she’d been early to Gideon’s office, she’d wasted some time trying to convince him and signing up for his class.Still.“I’m so sorry, I have to run. Thank you again.”
“Pleasure having you as a student for an hour.”
Megs flashed a smile, then darted out into the hall and sprinted. She thought of the woman standing at the door last night, telling her she’d gotten there just in time. Someone would still be there, wouldn’t they? If not at the door, then at the desk down the hall.
Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her shirt drooped off her right shoulder by the time she reached the doors. Megs adjusted the strap of her backpack and pulled on the handles.
Locked.
She tried the other set without luck, then cupped her hands against the glass and peered inside. Her heart raced as she searched for anyone who might be walking down the hall, but there was no movement.
Megs cursed under her breath and dropped her bag to the walkway, leaning it against the brick. She knocked and waited. Nothing. Someone had to walk by at some point. She’d just have to stand there and be patient.
Ten minutes went by, and her heart rate had finally returned to normal. She dialed the administration office and it went straight to after hours voicemail. After twenty minutes, her sweat began to chill on her skin. Thirty, and Megs was close to tears.
She couldn’t miss this class. There were only six lectures, and Mr. Fletcher had been very clear in his initial presentation on course expectations that absences weren’t acceptable. Why had she thought that half an hour would be enough time?What was wrong with her brain?
After an hour and a half, Megs sat slumped next to her bag, her knees pulled against her chest. Nobody had come out to the main hall during their regular break, and why would they? The water fountains, vending machines, and bathrooms were all at the other end of the building. Why hadn’t she made friends with someone in class the night before? Exchanged information?
Megs shivered and wrapped her arms around her knees. It was dark and cold, but she couldn’t bring herself to go to her car. If she could get in there, even for the last half an hour of class, maybe she could convince her instructor to let her make up the lecture time.There had to be some way to salvage this.She couldn’t fail asix-day certification courseon top of everything else.
Zero risk.She wanted to laugh, but tears were already welling in her eyes. She’d convinced herself doing this audition would cost her nothing, and now here she was. Screwing everything up. Again.
“Megs?”
Her head snapped up to see Professor Adams approaching on the walkway, his leather bag slung over his chest. Megs scrambled up from the sidewalk.
“What are you doing outside? I thought you had—”
“I got here, and the doors were locked.” She blinked and pushed her curls back from her face, then snatched her bag from the ground.
Gideon frowned. “You’ve been sitting outside since you left the studio?” Megs nodded, willing her desperation not to show on her face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, then swiped it over the lock. The small red dot above the handles turned green.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Megs' heart leaped as she yanked on the handle and rushed inside, not even thinking about thanking Gideon. She rushed down the hall, turned left and found her classroom.Thirty-five minutes left.
She opened the door and slunk in, taking a seat at the back. Mr. Fletcher nodded, but didn’t pause or interrupt his lesson. She was grateful for that. The less attention drawn to her, the better.
She pulled out her computer and opened her notes but couldn’t make her fingers work. Whatever Mr. Fletcher was saying drifted behind the blood rushing in her ears. By the time she convinced her jaw to stop clenching, class was ending.
