Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
Finn’s hands trembled as he surveyed the Chicago Lakeside Hotel’s grand ballroom.
The buzz of conversation, the sparkle of evening wear, the unmistakable energy of literary celebration—it all felt surreal, like he’d stumbled into someone else’s life.
His fingers found his collar again, tugging at his tie.
“If you keep fidgeting with that tie, it’s going to surrender and crawl away in protest,” Ollie murmured beside him, his voice steady despite the nervous energy Finn could feel radiating from him. It was adorable how Ollie was even more nervous than Finn had been all day.
Finn’s hand dropped, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry. I’m just not used to”—he gestured vaguely at the spectacle surrounding them—“any of this.”
“You mean you don’t regularly attend black-tie events?” Ollie’s eyes crinkled at the corners, the teasing gentleness in his voice settling something in Finn’s chest. “I’m shocked.”
A month ago, the thought of standing here, of anyone knowing his secret, had been his worst nightmare. Now, with Ollie beside him, the fear hadn’t disappeared, but it had transformed into something manageable. Something he could breathe through.
“Finn!” A sharp, enthusiastic voice cut through his thoughts. Meredith appeared before them, resplendent in a midnight-blue dress, her usual business attire abandoned for the evening. “There you are! I was starting to worry you’d changed your mind.”
“I considered it,” Finn admitted, accepting her quick hug. “But it’s time to quit hiding.”
Honestly, he felt a bit silly for keeping his writing a secret for so long.
The world hadn’t stopped turning once people knew.
If any of Brooklyn’s classmates had caught wind of what he wrote, they either didn’t care or she hadn’t mentioned anything to him.
No one approached him on the streets of Maple Hill to castigate him for not setting a good example for his daughter.
The worst he’d dealt with was some good-natured ribbing from Keaton and the rest of the guys.
“And you must be Ollie,” Meredith said, turning her attention to the man at Finn’s side. “I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Meredith Tremblay, Finn’s long-suffering agent, who’s been trying to drag him into the spotlight for years. If you had anything to do with him being here, thank you.”
“That was all him, but it’s nice to meet you,” Ollie replied, shaking her hand. “Though I’m still getting used to the idea that Finn has a whole secret life I knew nothing about.”
The gentle ribbing in Ollie’s tone made Finn’s chest warm with gratitude.
They’d spent hours unwinding the complicated tangle of fear and protection and secrecy that had kept Finn silent for so long.
The hurt hadn’t disappeared overnight, but they were moving forward together, each day a little steadier than the last.
“Well, the secret’s out now,” Meredith said with a conspiratorial grin. “And not a moment too soon. Come on, there are people dying to meet you, Finn.”
She led them deeper into the ballroom, where clusters of people stood chatting, champagne flutes in hand. Finn felt Ollie tense slightly beside him and reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
Ollie nodded, though his smile was slightly strained. “Just realizing I’m severely underdressed for this crowd. Everyone looks like they stepped out of a magazine.”
“You look perfect,” Finn said, meaning it.
Ollie had agonized over what to wear, finally settling on a charcoal suit that hugged his lean frame perfectly, paired with a burgundy tie that brought out the warmth in his eyes.
“Besides, you’re with the mysterious recluse who’s been hiding behind a pen name.
Trust me, all eyes are going to be on me, not my incredibly handsome partner. ”
The compliment had its intended effect—Ollie’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and his smile turned more genuine. “Partner,” he repeated. “That sounds serious.”
Finn’s heart skipped a beat. He’d used the word a few times since the romance showcase at Shelf Care Central, but tonight it held more weight.
Mingling with publishing industry contacts with Ollie beside him felt like a statement.
He was telling the publishing world that not only was he a talented author, but he was living the life he wrote about. “As it should.”
Meredith guided them toward a small group that included the publisher of Finn’s latest series. “Thomas, Sandra, this is Finn O’Riley, otherwise known as Rhett Wilder.”
The introductions were a blur of handshakes and pleasantries. Finn kept Ollie close, his hand resting lightly at the small of his back, the warmth soaking through the fabric of his suit a silent reminder that they were in this together.
“And this is Ollie Jennings, my partner,” Finn said, the words coming easier each time. “He owns the best bookstore in Maple Hill and has probably hand-sold more of my books than anyone else in the country.”
“Without even knowing they were yours,” Ollie added with a laugh that drew smiles from the group. “Talk about a plot twist.”
“That’s quite a story,” Thomas said, his eyes lighting with interest. “How did you finally find out?”
Ollie glanced at Finn, a silent question in his eyes. Finn nodded slightly—it was okay to share.
“He told me when I was in crisis mode after losing our headliner for a romance showcase,” Ollie explained. “He stepped in and saved the day, despite being terrified of public appearances.”
“The showcase was a huge success,” Finn added, unable to keep the pride from his voice. “Sold out of every copy of my books in the store.”
“I’ve seen the social media buzz,” Sandra said, nodding approvingly. “The mysterious Rhett Wilder finally revealed—it’s generated exactly the kind of excitement we hoped for. Your sales numbers have jumped significantly in the past week.”
Finn felt a flicker of surprise. “Really?”
“Really,” Meredith confirmed with a satisfied smile. “Turns out readers love connecting a face to the name, especially when that face is attached to someone as genuinely passionate about the genre as you are.”
The conversation flowed more easily after that, shifting to industry talk and upcoming releases.
Finn relaxed incrementally, bolstered by Ollie’s steady presence and quick wit.
Whenever the attention shifted too heavily to him, Ollie would seamlessly redirect with a question or observation that gave Finn a moment to breathe.
As they moved through the room, meeting more of Finn’s peers and industry professionals, Finn watched Ollie gradually find his footing.
His initial discomfort gave way to genuine engagement, especially when talking about books and the readers who loved them.
This was Ollie’s element, after all—connecting people with stories that moved them.
It hadn’t escaped his notice that more than a few people had slipped Ollie their business cards as he explained everything his family was trying to do to revive Shelf Care Central.
“You’re a natural at this,” Finn murmured during a brief moment alone, as they waited at the bar for fresh drinks.
“At what? Making small talk with strangers about books? That’s easy.” Ollie’s smile was teasing, but there was a hint of vulnerability beneath it.
“At being exactly who you are, no matter the setting,” Finn said, his voice softening. “I’ve spent years afraid of being seen, and you just shine, wherever you go.”
Ollie’s cheeks flushed slightly. “I wouldn’t go that far. I’m just talking about the thing I love most.” His eyes met Finn’s, warm and certain. “And the man who writes them.”
The simple honesty in his voice made Finn’s breath catch. Before he could respond, Meredith appeared at his elbow.
“They’re about to start the ceremony,” she said, her voice tight with anticipation. “Your category is early in the program.”
The reminder sent a fresh wave of nerves through Finn’s stomach. He’d prepared a brief speech, just in case, but the possibility of actually winning felt distant and unreal.
They found their seats at a table near the front, Ollie on one side of him and Meredith on the other. As the lights dimmed and the master of ceremonies took the stage, Ollie’s hand found Finn’s under the table.
“Whatever happens,” Ollie whispered, leaning close enough that Finn could smell the faint trace of his cologne, “I’m already so proud of you.”
The simple words steadied him, anchoring him in the moment. This wasn’t just about an award or public recognition—it was about finally allowing himself to be seen, to claim the work he’d poured his heart into for years.
The ceremony progressed with the expected mix of industry acknowledgments and heartfelt speeches.
Finn was genuinely pleased for the winners in each category, the knot in his stomach loosening as he settled into the rhythm of the evening.
Then, suddenly, the host was announcing the nominees for Best Contemporary Series.
“And the nominees are…”
Finn’s pulse thundered in his ears as his name was called, along with the title of his series. His headshot appeared on the screen, along with the cover of his upcoming release. Ollie’s grip on his hand tightened, a silent show of support that meant more than any award could.
“And the winner is…Rhett Wilder for Small Town Secrets!”
The applause was immediate and enthusiastic. Finn sat frozen for a split second, the announcement not quite registering. Then Ollie was squeezing his hand, his face lit with pride and joy.
“That’s you,” Ollie whispered, giving him a gentle nudge. “Go on.”
Finn rose on legs that felt strangely disconnected from his body.
The walk to the stage seemed both endless and too brief, not giving him enough time to gather his thoughts.
As he accepted the award—a simple crystal book, heavy and cool in his hands—he turned to face the audience, the lights momentarily blinding.
“Thank you,” he began, his voice steadier than he expected. “This is…surreal, to be honest. For years, Rhett Wilder has existed only on the page, a name that allowed me to share stories I wasn’t brave enough to claim in my everyday life.”
The room was silent, attentive in a way that might have terrified him weeks ago but now felt like a gift—the chance to finally speak his truth.
“I want to thank my daughter Brooklyn, who taught me that courage isn’t the absence of fear but the willingness to move forward anyway.
My agent Meredith, who never stopped believing these stories deserved to be told.
My publishing team, who took a chance on a voice that didn’t fit neatly into any category. ”
His gaze found Ollie in the audience, his face upturned and glowing with something that made Finn’s chest tight with emotion.
“And to my partner Ollie”—his voice softened, the words meant for one person despite the crowded room—“you’ve reminded me that the best stories aren’t the ones we keep hidden.
They’re the ones we share, even when it’s scary.
You were my biggest champion before you knew it was my books you were recommending.
Hearing the passion as you talked about the stories I’ve written solidified why I do this.
Thank you for giving me a chance to prove I’m worthy of the love you show me in the littlest ways every day.
While I know I can do this on my own, I truly hope those days are in the past.”
The words settled in the room, quiet and certain. Finn felt the weight of them, but also the freedom.
The applause as he left the stage was warm and genuine. When he returned to their table, Ollie stood to meet him, his eyes suspiciously bright.
“That was beautiful,” he said simply, his voice rough with emotion.
Finn set the award on the table and pulled Ollie into a brief, tight hug, not caring who might be watching. “I meant every word.”
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur of congratulations and handshakes. Finn found himself fielding questions and accepting praise with a grace that surprised him, bolstered by Ollie’s steady presence at his side.
Later, as the formal proceedings wound down and people began to drift toward the after-party, Finn and Ollie found a quiet corner in the hotel lobby before heading into the bar for another round of drinks with the publishing team.
The weight of the evening—the recognition, the final merging of his two worlds—settled over Finn like a warm blanket.
“You know that was basically a public declaration of your undying love for me, right?” Ollie said, half-teasing, as they stood close together, slightly removed from the flow of departing guests.
Finn’s smile was unguarded, the answer simple. “Good. I meant it to be.”
Finn reached for Ollie’s hand, lacing their fingers together. For the first time, nothing about his life felt compartmentalized. Nothing was hidden. He was Finn O’Riley and Rhett Wilder, father and author, partner and friend—all the pieces finally fitting together into a whole that felt right.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, “for being here. For pushing me to be brave.”
Ollie’s expression softened, his free hand coming up to straighten Finn’s tie in a gesture that felt strangely intimate. “I didn’t push you to do anything you weren’t ready for. You did this on your own terms, in your own time. Mostly.”
“Maybe,” Finn conceded. “But having you beside me made all the difference.”
Ollie’s smile was warm, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that never failed to make Finn’s heart skip. “Well, get used to it. I plan on being beside you for a long time.”
The simple statement, offered without hesitation, settled something in Finn’s chest—a certainty he hadn’t felt in longer than he could remember. This was what it meant to be seen and chosen every day.