“Until tonight.”
“Not until tonight, Hales! He’s been unequivocal that he doesn’t cross boundaries with his students, and I respect that.” She didn’t need to tell her how she’d inadvertently led Gideon on to get that dinner and kiss in the first place.
“Maybe he’s patient. Maybe this whole semester will be a sexy build-up of longing and restraint—”
“Youarewatching trashy reality TV, aren’t you?”
“No. But maybe I picked up one of Oscar’s novels.”
Megs nearly swerved off the road. “You did not!”
Haley giggled. “They’re surprisingly good.”
“Who are you? You are a strong, independent business owner—”
“Who just discovered a new love for men who work on horse ranches.”
Megs shook her head. “Well. I’m telling Bobbi.”
Haley scoffed. “Whatever, Bobbi is living her second-chance romance. She doesn’t get to say anything about us single gals and our preferred coping strategies.”
Coping strategies. Did Megs have any of those? “Fine. Fair. Seriously, though, they’re good?”
“Like the milk chocolate caramels you hide in your drawer at work and eat secretly at two in the afternoon even though you tell everyone you only eat dark chocolate.”
Megs laughed and stopped at a red light. “Got it. I’m almost back to Sugar Creek. Thanks for helping me pass the time.”
“Have a blast tonight, and—wait, that professor is a finalist. He’s going to be there?”
“Goodnight, Hales.”
“Call me!”
Megs ended the call and drew a deep breath. Then another. She continued breathing in silence until she finally parked at The Rustic Table. She was only ten minutes late. Perfectly reasonable.
The butterflies in her stomach flit and darted wildly as she reapplied her tinted lip balm, pulled on her jacket, and grabbed her purse before stepping out of the car. She scanned the restaurant as she walked through the art deco glass doors.
It had been over a year since she’d been here, not for dinner but for a glass-blowing demonstration in the shop out back. They’d done a complete overhaul of the place. The whole feel of it, with dark wood accents, flickering candles, and antiques on the wall instead of the prior owner’s taxidermied animals, was all swank.
"May I help you?" the hostess asked. She was tall with shiny blond hair, dressed in all black.
"Yes, I'm here for the audiobook competition meetup.”
"Yes, of course. Please follow me." The hostess led Megs through the restaurant, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. They walked to the back of the restaurant through a pair of French doors, and Megs breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the other contestants were standing and mingling instead of already sitting down at the long table in the center of the private room.
"Thank you," Megs said to the hostess, who inclined her head gracefully and left Megs to it. She beelined it to a high-top table near the mini bar with an open space. When the three people already standing there paused their conversation, she quickly introduced herself.
"Hey, I'm Megs.” She couldn’t help her eyes from wandering a bit in search of a familiar face.
"Melissa," one of the contestants replied, shaking Megs' hand. She had a pixie cut and a firm grip. The woman next to her with porcelain skin and long, dark hair introduced herself as Layla, and then there was a man who looked like every guy Megs had ever seen in a dandruff shampoo commercial.
“Sean,” he said, running a hand through his thick, flake-free hair.
Megs smiled. "Nice to meet you all. Have any of you done narration before?"
"Never," Melissa replied, taking a sip of her cocktail. "I've always loved performing, but this whole audiobook thing is new to me. Thought it might be fun to give it a try."
"Same here," Layla admitted, her eyes darting around the room in a way that made her look like a small bird. "I used to act in local theater but gave it up after some bad experiences. A friend told me about this competition, so I thought I'd take a chance and see if it could help me find my passion again."
