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“You’re on in ninety seconds, Elora. You ready?” she said cheerfully as she adjusted her own mic on that perfectly pressed ivory blazer. I sucked down a deep breath before straightening my spine and beaming back at her.
“Born that way.”
I closed my eyes when Johanna nodded and turned for the stage. Hanging onto the rail at the bottom of the three quick steps, I envisioned walking up and across the stage, saying hello, working the audience, and then inviting them to refill their coffees from the table carafes, and settle in like old friends. I envisioned what it would feel like to hold their attention, earn their laughter, and make them ask the hard questions because they felt comfortable enough to. I shook out my shoulders and pulled on memories of the jitter of applause from my chest to my toes and held that right until Johanna called my name. My heels clicked up the stairs, the walk out music blaring through the enormous speakers.
Chest up. Head tall, I took the stage with a smile, a strut, and a cheery wave.
Pierce and Cheyenne were the first smiles I recognized in the crowd's chaos as they mobbed around me to ask questions in the hallway after my talk. God, it was a rush unlike any other. Better than performing, knowing that not only had I planted the idea of this school in the universe, but also equipped the crowd with lessons and skills they could all use to grow their own businesses and charities. The latter hurled her arms around me with so much enthusiasm, I would’ve eaten carpet if not for Pierce steadying us both with a laugh.
When she pulled back, her beaming face was echoed by Mara, who finally forced her way through two rather eager looking young men who had flocked to my coat tails on Monday and just kept finding their way back.
“You were incredible,” Cheyenne squealed.
“Legendary,” Mara agreed with zealous nods.
“A shoo-in, and I can’t even be bitter about it,” Pierce said, playfully nudging my shoulder, his pearly teeth on display in a dazzling smile. Oh, yeah. Max owed me. “Who’s your mother? Who the hell raised you?”
Laughing, I shook my head, hands up in defense. “You guys did amazing, too. I don’t think the judges have an easy task awaiting them.” The gorgeous siblings both started showering more flattery, but my eyes locked on dark browns across the heads of new attendees tentatively working their way forward to ask their questions. Broderick’s smile was subtle, but so fucking reassuring with that glow of pride that my heart seemed to slow just holding his attention. A tentative grin crept up my cheeks before I bit my lower lip, and he gave me a nod.
“Gonna answer that?” Pierce’s chipper baritone brought me back into my body and I blinked, swallowing hard as I realized the device in my palm was singing a merry little tune. Yanking myself from my stupor, I glanced down to see Christopher Calling written over the screen.
He knew where I was. Hell, he was supposed to be tuned into the lives. Perplexed, I hesitantly answered with a simple, “You okay?”
“Fuck yeah, I am. So are you, by the way. Are you sitting down?”
“No?”
“You should be.”
“Chris, what’s up? You’re freaking me out.” I glanced up to find Broderick’s column now vacant, disappointment slumping my shoulders as I waved to my friends and extricated myself from the chaos, Mara tight on my heels.
“On second thought, maybe don’t sit. Maybe walk, but not on steps or near water.”
“Chris.”
“Is Mara there?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God, because I don’t know if I can contain this any longer and I needed you both. Get somewhere you can stick me on speaker.”
Some bizarre anxiety-anticipation combo settled in my throat like I’d forgotten how to swallow. As a matter of fact, my mouth was suddenly parched, body gearing up to fight some invisible threat as my assistant continued to babble in the background, like he was talking to someone else.
When we rounded a corner, I shoved inside a conference room where–at least judging by the enormous, oblong marble table and abundance of chairs down the center–big-wigs had their meetings. The Godfather would approve of the four-inch slab and looming presence of the armchairs. I scooted one out as Mara locked the double doors before joining me.
“Jesus fucking Christ, are you two ready yet?”
Laughing, I said, “Yes, and out with it. You’re killing me here.”
“Just got off the phone with Lionel.”
“My agent?”
“No, dummy, Richie. Yes, your fucking agent, I swear to God, El, sometimes.”
“Chris!” I snapped, growing more than a little impatient and a lot nervous.
“Right.” He sucked down a long breath, like he was steadying himself, and my eyes flicked up to Mara’s, but she just shrugged, brows winging up to mirror my confusion. “So, we may have been conspiring the last few weeks, and taken the liberty of pitching the school to some pretty major producers in some very major networks.” My heart…stopped. Apparently, so did Mara’s, judging by the pit-bull-jaws-of-death level grip she had on my arm. He wouldn’t have gotten us alone and built up all this anticipation if that effort had been fruitless. “There were a handful of little fish that took the bait…and a couple of very, very big fish sniffing around too.” I heard the chatter of a keyboard being typed in rapid succession as he sucked down another long breath, either unaware or not caring that I was holding mine. “Two made bids, Lionel worked his magic, and they just delivered their highest and best offers. Which is why I’m calling. They watched our lives this week, El, and they both want you. But I just sent you the offer from the one we’re most excited about. You could pick between Chicago, New York, or Los Angeles, and I know you wanted to be in charge of location, but just wait until you get a look at these numbers.”
