Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
The afternoon crawled by in a haze of forced normalcy. Ollie went through the motions—entering the new arrivals into inventory, helping customers, restocking the romance display—but his mind kept circling back to Finn’s words like a scratched record.
I’m Rhett Wilder.
He’d handled the revelation badly, he knew that.
The hurt had come out as anger, the shock as accusation.
But how was he supposed to react when the man he was falling in love with turned out to be the author whose work had shifted his understanding of what love could look like?
In reality, the issue was that he felt like a fool.
He wouldn’t have been nearly as much of a geeky fan-boy if he’d known.
“Hey, Ollie,” a familiar voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts. Maya stood at the counter, a small stack of books in her arms. “Could you recommend something for my book club? They want a contemporary romance this month, preferably something with emotional depth.”
Ollie’s hand automatically moved toward the Rhett Wilder display before he caught himself, his fingers freezing mid-reach.
Heat crept up his neck as he realized what he’d almost done—recommended Finn’s books without even thinking.
His cheeks flushed as he realized just how often he did that.
It was a wonder Finn hadn’t run the other way the moment he realized Ollie was basically obsessed with his alter-ego.
“What have you read recently?” he managed, his voice rougher than intended.
Maya launched into a description of their last few selections, but Ollie found himself nodding at intervals while his mind wandered.
The familiar spine of Hearts in Hiding caught his eye from the display, and he remembered Mrs. Abelman buying three copies last month.
Had he been that enthusiastic about it? He probably had been—he always got animated when talking about books that moved him.
The realization that he’d been unknowingly championing Finn’s work felt surreal, like discovering he’d been speaking a foreign language fluently without knowing it.
“—so something with small-town charm would be perfect,” Maya finished, looking at him expectantly.
“Right,” Ollie said, blinking back to the present. He grabbed the first book that came to hand, not really seeing the cover. “This one’s great. Very…charming.”
Maya glanced at the book—a historical romance set in Victorian London—and gave him a concerned look. “Are you okay, Ollie? You’re beyond distracted today.”
“Fine,” he said automatically, then forced a smile. “Sorry, just thinking about the romance showcase. It feels like things are changing every time I blink.”
“I’m so excited for it! Meghan Jackson is one of my favorites.” Maya’s face lit up. “I already have my ticket. Will there be other authors too?”
Ollie’s stomach clenched. He needed to tell her about Meghan, but Maya’s genuine enthusiasm made the words stick in his throat. She was one of his closest friends, and keeping everything bottled up was making him feel like he might explode.
“Actually,” he said, leaning against the counter, “Meghan had to cancel.”
Maya’s face fell instantly. “Oh no. Really? I was so looking forward to meeting her.”
“I know, I’m sorry. She had a family emergency that she’s not expecting to be cleared up by next week.
” Ollie watched the disappointment flicker across her features and felt terrible for being the bearer of bad news.
“But we do have a replacement lined up. A really good one. One I never would have dreamed we’d be able to get. It’s a bit surreal.”
Maya’s eyebrows rose with interest. “Surreal how? Author drama? Publishing politics?”
“More like personal drama,” Ollie admitted, running a hand through his hair. “The author who agreed to step in—let’s just say I know them better than I realized. And finding that out today has left me feeling a little scrambled.”
“Good scrambled or bad scrambled?”
Ollie considered this, his fingers drumming against the counter.
“Both, I guess. The event will be incredible—this author has a massive following, and it will be their first public appearance ever. From a business standpoint, it’s exactly what we need.
” He paused, watching Maya’s face. “But there are complications on the personal side.”
Maya tilted her head, studying him with the kind of attention that came from years of friendship. “Does this have something to do with Finn?”
It wasn’t a question, and Ollie felt his shoulders tense automatically. “What makes you say that?”
“Because you’ve been walking around like someone who’s had the rug pulled out from under them, and the only thing that’s changed in your life recently is him.
” Maya’s voice was gentle but matter-of-fact.
“Also, you mentioned knowing this mystery author personally, and Finn’s pretty much the only person who’s entered your orbit lately who could send you into this kind of tailspin. ”
The accuracy of her observation made Ollie’s chest tighten. He nodded before he could think better of it. “It’s…yeah. It involves Finn. But it’s not what you’re probably thinking.”
“Want to talk about it?”
The simple offer made something in Ollie’s throat catch.
Maya had always been good at reading the room, at knowing when to push and when to simply offer space.
“Not yet,” he said, meaning it. “I’m still trying to figure out what I think about everything.
But the event will be fine. Better than fine, actually. ”
“Okay, well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me,” Maya offered. “Now that you’ve got that off your chest, how about we actually work on finding a contemporary romance that’s not too steamy or dark for the club read.”
Ollie nodded and led her to the romance section.
After Maya left, Ollie stood in front of the romance section again, staring at the neat row of Rhett Wilder novels. He’d arranged them just last week, making sure the newest release was prominently displayed.
Shelter From the Storm. The title mocked him now.
“Dad’s bringing me Chinese for dinner.” Brooklyn’s voice made him jump.
She stood in the doorway, backpack slung over one shoulder, studying him with that too-perceptive gaze she’d inherited from Finn.
He hadn’t even realized she’d come in while he was talking to Maya, but she was behind the counter finishing the order entry he’d abandoned.
“He wanted me to ask if you want anything.”
The casual invitation, delivered as if nothing had changed, made Ollie’s throat tight. “Thanks, but I’m not sure I can eat right now.”
Brooklyn’s expression shifted, concern replacing casual friendliness. “He told you, didn’t he?”
The direct question caught Ollie off guard. He turned away from the books, straightening an already-perfect display. “About what?”
“Come on, Ollie. About being Rhett Wilder.” Brooklyn’s voice was gentle but matter-of-fact. “He said he was going to tell you today, and now you both look like someone kicked your favorite puppy.”
Ollie’s hands stilled on the book spines. Of course Finn had mentioned it to her—he’d said as much during their conversation. “Yeah. He told me.”
“And you’re freaking out about it.” It wasn’t a question.
“I’m not freaking out,” Ollie said automatically, then caught Brooklyn’s skeptical look. “Okay, maybe I’m freaking out a little. It’s just…a lot to process.”
Brooklyn leaned against the counter, studying him with that too-perceptive gaze she’d inherited from Finn. “He was terrified to tell you. Like, actually terrified. I haven’t seen him that scared since I was little and had to go to the emergency room for stitches.”
The comparison made Ollie’s chest tighten. “He didn’t trust me enough to tell me before now.”
“It’s not about trust,” Brooklyn said, her voice taking on a patience that seemed far too mature for her age. “He was convinced everything would change once people knew. And you’re kind of obsessed with Rhett Wilder’s books, so that probably made it worse.”
“I’m not obsessed,” Ollie protested weakly.
Brooklyn gave him a look that was pure Finn. “You literally have a shrine to his books in here. And then there’s the fact you pimp them out to anyone who will listen.”
Heat crept up Ollie’s neck. “He never said anything. I feel like an idiot. I recommended his books to him. That would have been a great time for him to say something.”
“Of course he didn’t. He was probably dying inside every time you gushed about how amazing Rhett Wilder is.
” Brooklyn’s expression softened. “Look, I get why you’re upset.
Just…cut him a bit of slack, okay? It would be ironic if my dad writing some of your favorite romance novels wound up being the thing that drove a wedge between the two of you. ”
“When you put it like that…” She had a point, especially with the way he’d been comparing his relationship to the books he loved so much.
Brooklyn studied him for a long moment, then shrugged. “For what it’s worth, my dad’s been moping around all afternoon too. You’re both being ridiculous.”
The converted storefront that housed Jules’s art studio smelled like acrylic paint and the peppermint incense they burned to “encourage creative flow.” Canvases in various stages of completion lined the walls, and mismatched furniture created cozy conversation areas throughout the space.
Jules looked up from their easel as Ollie pushed through the door, taking in his disheveled appearance with one glance.
“Well,” they said, setting down their brush, “you look like someone who’s had a very interesting day. Tea? Wine? Something stronger?”
“Tea,” Ollie said, collapsing onto the paint-splattered couch. “Definitely tea.”
Jules moved to the small kitchenette in the corner, filling an electric kettle. “So. What’s got you looking like you’ve seen a ghost?”
“Finn is Rhett Wilder.”