Page 13 of Fake It Til You Break It

“Something wrong?” I asked as he led me to a couple of chairs at the back of the room.

I noticed he did that a lot. Unless assigned to a table or a seat, he always chose a quiet corner or a place in the shadows, like he didn’t want to be seen. I just couldn’t understand why.

“No, nothing.” He sat rigidly, one leg crossed primly over the other. “Why do you ask?”

I shook my head. No sense in drawing attention to something he didn’t want to discuss. “Just checking.”

We waited in silence for the event to begin, Jasper sitting so still he might have been made of stone. I wasn’t entirely sure he was even breathing.

At precisely seven o’clock, a bookstore employee stepped up to the microphone to introduce Kendall Bauer, eliciting a round of polite applause from the audience. Jasper sat up a little straighter, his attention laser-focused on the front of the room as a petite young woman emerged from behind a curtain and took her place at the table.

She greeted everyone and introduced herself, then followed with the obligatory expression of gratitude for their presence. Only, she sounded like she meant it, her voice filled with excitement and a touch of nerves.

She spoke briefly about her writing journey and inspiration, and I found myself captivated by her easy cadence. The speech was filled with quirky anecdotes and just the right amount of self-effacement to make her sound relatable rather than tragic.

Then, with a shaky breath, she opened her book and began to read, the words flowing as smoothly as aged whiskey.

The story unfolded like a tapestry, each sentence weaving into the next with a seamless grace. I admired her talent, but more than that, I respected the bravery it took to share her work with the world.

As I listened, my gaze drifted to Jasper. He appeared relaxed, a faint grin playing over his mouth, and the air of stillness that surrounded him now peaceful rather than uneasy.

“She’s good,” I remarked when she finished and everyone began clapping.

“She really is.” Jasper’s entire body shook from the force of his applause, and a bright, uncensored smile stretched his lips.

While I had witnessed plenty of entitlement throughout my life, I figured most people helped where they could but took care of their own needs first. And no shame. No judgment. I fell into that category myself.

The number of truly selfless human beings I had encountered, though, could be counted on one hand, and Jasper Ryan was one of those humans.

The event flowed directly into the meet-and-greet portion of the evening after that, but my date remained seated while the other guests rose to queue at the table. I waited, thinking maybe he wanted to savor the moment for a while longer. After a solid ten minutes had passed and he still hadn’t moved, I realized I needed to say something.

“Are we going to get in line?”

“I forgot my book in the car.”

It was such a poor excuse I struggled not to roll my eyes. “I’ll buy you a new one. Come on.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure she’ll want to see me.” He sounded neither upset nor resigned, despite the heaviness of his words. Merely accepting. “Her time at the center wasn’t exactly a high point in her life. I don’t want to bring up bad memories.”

I respected the sentiment, if not necessarily his reasoning. It also sounded like a lot of projection.

“She invited you,” I reminded him. If he wanted to argue, I had receipts in the form of the texts he’d sent me. “I’m pretty sure that means she wants to see you.”

“She was probably just being kind.”

Though I usually found his humbleness endearing, this time, it leaned more toward self-sabotage. No matter what story he had concocted inside that anxiety brain of his, I knew if we left right then, it would end badly.

Once he had a moment to breathe and reflect, he’d question his decision. Then he would spiral. I could already picture him pacing his office, worried that he had hurt her and trying to decide how to make it right.

And whatever solution he came up with would likely be over the top and wildly out of proportion to the perceived offense.

“Well, I’m going to get a book signed.”

“That’s wonderful!” He perked up again, smiling from ear to ear. “Let me know when you’ve had a chance to read it. I’d love to know what you think.”

Ah, hell. It should be illegal to be that damn cute. Here I was, trying to save him from himself, and he wanted to start a book club.

I was so screwed, and worse, I didn’t even care.

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