“That’s beside the point.” Tristan came around the little dividing wall to the bathroom and saw a large wicker basket set near the head of the bed. “Wow, I guess someone appreciates me.” Inside, there was a bottle of champagne—the French stuff, not California Champagne or generic sparkling wine—a vase with an arrangement of lilacs and baby’s breath, a rather large box of local artisan chocolates, and a card. He pulled off the card and flipped it open. “‘Congratulations on making the final. Good luck. Best wishes. Rita, Dexter, and Eli.’”
“How exceedingly generic of them.”
Tristan set the card on the table, moved the basket, and lay out on his bed. Ontheirbed. He’d never felt so free and open as he did in that moment. “They probably got this all set up days ago, when they didn’t know who was going to make it.”
“Then I’m going to head off to my hotel room real quick.”
“What? Why?”
Henry opened the door, but turned around and winked. “One bottle of champagne is nice. Two is a celebration.”
Tristan slipped off his shoes. “Well then, let’s have a celebration.”
Henry nodded. “Back in a jiffy. Don’t lock me out.”
Tristan sighed as Henry left the room. They were almost done. They’d gotten through fucking Willa. They’d gotten through eight rounds of the competition without cracking. They’d gotten through their own bullshit anger with each other.
Tristan slid his phone free from his pocket and dialed up Lucia.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Lucia. I didn’t wake you up, right?”
“No. Karen and I rented a couple movies. Chick-flick shirtless-actor kind of movies, since we can’t watch those when you’re around.”
“According to who? Those are my favorites.”
“Could have fooled me, the way you bitched all throughHer Vibrant Roses.”
“I bitched because nothing happened in that movie. It was literally all set in the same room. Start to finish. Plus the only guy who took his shirt off was Mr. Neanderthal Forehead Ridge with the tiny squinty eyes.”
“But hisarms, Tristan. His arms are wonderful.”
“Good luck making out with his arms.”
“You name the time and place and I will take that challenge.”
Tristan snorted a laugh. There was a knock at the door, and he jumped up to open it. “So I have some good news if you can keep your lips totally closed. Not even a peep to Karen, swear on Tia’s grave.”
“Awfully secretive for some good news.”
Tristan opened the door on Henry. Henry and a completely identical wicker basket. He blew Henry a kiss before continuing with Lucia. “I mean, if you don’t want to know, that’s fine.”
“Jesus, let me save youandme the trouble: you’re in the final, right?”
“How thehell—”
“You do three days of practice and one filming day. I can do math, and I canalsolook at a calendar and do math. It’s called multitasking.”
Tristan groaned. “So much for my big reveal. It’s still best if you don’t mention it to anyone.”
“I’m not going to. But spoiler alert: Karen knows too. I’ve got big Xs on the calendar marking the days you’ve been away and this might shock you, but Karen can count.”
Tristan chuckled. “All right, all right. You have anything to say?”
“Aren’t you glad I made you go?”
“Anythingelse?”
