Chad’s posture shifted, straightening as if permission had just been granted.
"You don't want to blend in tonight," Caleb said. "Be unforgettable."
Chad's face lit up. "Right?"
Caleb gestured toward his own reflection. Charcoal. Tasteful. Boring. "Heartland Channel rules. If I show up in anything with opinions, half of America writes letters."
Chad barked out a laugh. The wholesome guy was trapped.
Caleb let the silence settle.
Chad looked at himself again. The doubt drained out of him in real time, replaced by something Caleb recognized from a thousand auditions: the moment someone starts believing their own performance.
"Big night?"
"Sterling Gala," Chad said. "My brother's thing."
Caleb nodded. Of course.
Chad glanced at the mirror again, then back at the suit. Decision made.
"Can you—" Chad turned, looking for the manager who'd appeared near the fitting area. "Hey. Can you tighten this? The waist feels loose."
The manager moved forward. All business.
Chad smiled at her—wider now, because he was dressed like a man who didn't get told no and Caleb Hart had just validated his existence. "Right here. I want it fitted. Like... criminally fitted."
Her hands went to the jacket. Quick. Efficient.
Chad leaned in, too close.
"You're really good at this," he said. "You know that, right?"
She didn't respond. Just worked, fingers adjusting the fabric with professional speed.
Chad watched her. Still smiling.
Caleb's expression stayed pleasant.
The manager stepped back. "I'll have the tailor make the adjustments."
"Perfect," Chad said, still watching her go.
He turned back to the mirror, catching Caleb's reflection behind him.
"You ever have a day," Chad said, "where you're just trying to keep things calm, and someone refuses to let it be calm?"
Caleb made a sympathetic sound.
Chad turned, facing Caleb more directly now. Like they were friends. Like he’d been invited. Then he exhaled theatrically.
"Rough doesn't cover it, man." Chad shook his head. "My girlfriend is blowing something completely out of proportion. Making everything harder than it needs to be."
"Like I'm supposed to drop everything and manage her feelings because she can't handle—"
He stopped himself. Barely.
"She's usually helpful. Smooths things over. Makes it easier."
