Page 20 of Say It Again

“Oh, does the portal to the 1800s close soon?”

“Shut up and answer your phone when I call you tomorrow. We’re dating now.”

“Yes, sir, Father Celibacy. You know how they say not all heroes wear capes? Well, not all saints wear robes.”

“Goddammit,” Aaron chuckled. He looked like he didn’t quite know what to do with his face, so he settled on a tight-lipped smirk. “I like you. I like you, Daniel Greene.”

Daniel tried to stay cool, but he wholeheartedly wasn’t, so he covered his eyes with his hands and giggled. After a moment, he regained enough composure to say, “I like you too.”

They shared a sidelong glance that lasted until Aaron vanished inside the shiny black number.

“Mr. Silva.” He leaned against a column and waited for his taillights to disappear. “I like you a lot.”

Chapter Five

IT WAS the next day, and Daniel was hiding from his boss. He ducked behind the studio’s front desk and peeked over the edge. Shit! She saw him.

He’d been avoiding Madeline because what was there to say? She needed an answer to the question: are you going to buy the studio? Well, he didn’t have one of those. He had a whole lot of fear about being in charge of something so treasured, and was he really going to take out another loan? What if he failed? Just nosedived straight into bankruptcy. Then all the students and all the employees would hate him—he would hate himself.

He scrambled for a towel and started dusting as Madeline floated toward him.

“Hi, Daniel.”

“Madeline! Well, what a lovely surprise. When did you get here?”

She peered over her bookish round glasses with her arms crossed and burgundy lips pursed. “What are you doing down there?”

“Me? I’m checking on the printer.”

“I see. Something you do often?”

He cleared his throat and patted the printer. “Not typically. But lately, its behavior has been… well, it’s been worrisome. I’m concerned about its ink consumption. And hey, no judgment, none of us are perfect. It could just be going through a rough patch, you know? Stress from all the printing, trouble connecting with people and the internet—”

“My office.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He followed her into the OR with his head hung.

She closed the door behind them. Her emerald gaze burrowed under his skin. “You’re avoiding me.”

“That is absurdity—”

“Why are you avoiding me?” She folded her hands in her lap. “Is this about buying the studio?”

He rubbed his neck and eeeeeee’d.

“Daniel, I made you that offer because you were the first person that came to mind, but if you’re uninterested, I more than understand. You don’t need to pretend like I don’t exist. Just say the word, and we can move on.”

“No! I am so interested. I love this place, and I would love to call it my own. I just need time to think about how I could make it work and also convince myself I’m not a loser who tricked you into believing in me.”

“How would you have done that?”

“My hubris, obviously.” He sighed. “It’s a blessing and a curse being this magnetic.”

“Look, I’m sorry for the pressure. I wish I could give you more time. But I’m going to tell you what I’ve already told you—you’re capable of doing this. Abundantly capable. I trust this place in your hands, with my students, my legacy.” She rested her beautiful bony palm on his shoulder. “I trust you.”

He gave his ever-present anxiety permission to wane. It was her touch. Her faith. If his mentor was leaving, he wouldn’t have that touch or that faith to remind him he might have been capable of doing this. He scrunched his face and routed his eyes to the floor.

Madeline’s gaze jumped to the front door as a curious smile split her face. “Look.”