Chapter 11
Talon
I’m full of restless energy. I haven’t seen Zeke in a few days.
Administration duties demanded that I come down from Summit to tend to my actual job as the owner of Ricochet Ridge, and I was too afraid to send a text in case Derek found it.
I thought about calling the restaurant and asking to speak to Zeke, but then I thought that would look suspicious as well.
Although maintaining my silence has been hard as fuck.
Finally, today, I was able to reach out when I located a coffee shop near the theater and asked them to write a quick note and make a delivery.
I would have done it myself, but I’m picking my sister up from the airport.
Summit’s schedule said Zeke was off at three today, and I’m assuming it’s so he can be at the theater, so I really hope my timing was close.
Nothing’s worse than coffee that’s supposed to be hot, but has turned cold.
It doesn’t take any time to spot Eloise once she steps outside the small airport. I’m out of the SUV in a flash, wrapping her in my arms.
“El!” I squeal like a middle-school girl. “God, I’ve missed you!” I pick her up and swing her around, loving the sound of her laughter and the way my older sister’s familiar embrace feels. It’s so nice to show affection to someone without second-guessing everything about it.
“Hi, Tal. I’ve missed you, too,” she says through her laughter as I place her back on her feet.
She reaches for her bag, and I nudge her with my hip.
“Don’t you dare,” I tell her, grabbing the handle as I open the back of the Range Rover.
“This is why you’re my favorite brother,” she teases.
“I’m also the good-looking brother, the smart brother, and the nice brother,” I point out.
She throws her head back in laughter and kisses my cheek.
“That you are, but don’t tell Luke.”
I help Eloise inside and climb behind the wheel. Since there’s no time like the present, I jump right in as we merge onto the two-lane that will take us back up to the town of Ricochet Ridge.
“So, I know you’ve had a long day, but is there any chance you’d be willing to go see a play with me tonight?”
“A play? I’m not sure I packed anything appropriate to wear to a play,” she says, totally serious.
“You’re telling me there’s not a single chic jumpsuit in that bag?” I ask, knowing my sister better than she knows herself.
Her half-smile tells me I’m right.
“What are we seeing?”
“Um, I think it’s actually a queer love story,” I confess, taking a right turn.
“Well, how do you know it’s any good?” she asks.
“I know one of the lead actors. He works at Summit, the restaurant I can’t wait to show you on top of Ricochet Ridge.”
She shrugs, not fully understanding. Then again, I’m not so sure I do, either. My infatuation with Zeke has only intensified since keeping my distance. I’m constantly wondering if he’s eating. Did he take his break? Did he have his afternoon coffee?
“Okay, sure, sounds fun.”
“Great! You’re going to love him.” And then a thought occurs to me. “Um, but maybe you could not mention who we are?”
In my periphery, I see her turn in her seat to look at me, and I feel her wide eyes boring a hole in my head.
“Christian Talon Devereaux!”
“Yeah, like saying that, for example,” I point out.
“You mean to tell me that the whole undercover project is still going on? You’ve been out here forever!”
“I know. I know. I meant for it to be over by now, but I haven’t hit all the areas of the resort yet because I sort of got stuck at the restaurant,” I explain clumsily, leaving out the part where finishing the exercise no longer interests me, and I just want to focus on helping Zeke.
“What do you mean, stuck?” Eloise reaches forward to turn the radio off, bathing the car in silence, which means she can tell that I’m dying to talk about this.
Beating around the bush with each other has never been our style.
“Okay, so, the host at Summit is this young, quiet guy with the prettiest cheekbones you’ve ever seen.”
Now it’s her turn to interrupt me.
“Since when do you notice cheekbones?”
I smile, thinking about the way they turn red around me.
“Just wait until you see them. You’ll understand,” I tell her.
“Anyway, at first, he comes across as kind of distant. Cold. Indifferent. But if you can get him to let his guard down, he’s so gentle, and I’ve caught glimpses of how vibrant he can be under the right circumstances.
But he’s got this douchebag boyfriend, and I still don’t totally understand what’s going on between them, but the guy’s a dick.
Anyway, Zeke, that’s his name, our employee, not the boyfriend,” I clarify, fucking this all up, “has always dreamed of going to New York, and he’s hellbent on making it there, but he’s made it clear he doesn’t want handouts or help at all, really. ”
She snorts. “I bet he’d take a handout once he realizes how much you’re worth.”
“Really, El?” I snap. Although a realist, Eloise is rarely pessimistic. It’s usually Lukas who plays that role.
“Sorry,” she mutters.
“That’s exactly why I haven’t told him who I am.
I bought his lunch on Christmas, and I thought he was going to throw a fit.
He only accepts the coffee I bring him every day because it’s fucking free.
It sounds like he’s never had anyone in his life who gave a shit about him, and that’s why I want to go to the play tonight. ”
“Could we back up to the part where you guys had lunch on Christmas, and you bring him coffee every day? Also, why am I just now hearing about him?”
Pulling into my driveway, it’s my turn to shrug.
“Zeke’s kind of hard to explain unless you meet him.” She eyes me curiously for a long beat, and I shift in my seat, uncomfortable under her scrutiny. “What?”
“You just seem…invested,” she says, carefully choosing her last word.
“Yeah, I guess I am,” I admit, not really seeing her point since investing in people is literally my superpower.
Dropping the discussion for now, Eloise’s eyes are drawn toward my rental house.
“Nice place,” she says as I pull into the garage.
“It really is. Come on. I’ll give you the tour.”
“God, you look stunning!” I tell my sister as she enters the living room, where I’m responding to emails and looking over my schedule for Monday. She twirls immediately, making her black pantsuit shimmer as she does so.
“You’re sure it’s not too much?” she asks, running a hand across the fabric, making me stifle a laugh over the fact that she just casually had this masterpiece in her bag.
Of course she did.
Kissing her cheek, I tell her, “Doesn’t really matter. Even if it was too much, it’s the right choice.”
Eloise smiles at me. “You always say the right thing.”
I shrug. “It’s easy when it’s the truth.”
We snap a selfie and send it to the family group chat, and the responses come immediately.
Lukas
Where’s my invite?
Me
Show starts at 7. Come on.
Lukas
I wish. You guys look great.
Mom
My babies! You all look stunning! Where are you off to?
Me
The theater.
Mom
Have fun!
Dad
In a meeting. Love you guys.
I smile as I slip my phone into the pocket of my suit jacket and offer Eloise my arm as we drive into town. Still decorated for the season, white lights are strung across the road, connecting the balconies of the stores that line Main Street.
“This is so adorable!” Eloise exclaims next to me. “It looks like a Hallmark movie!”
I smile instantly, loving anything that makes my sister happy.
The theater is easy to spot.
It’s old school, set in a row of shops, the marquee above it proudly announcing tonight’s show: The Truth in the Mirror.
I have to be honest, I’m more than a little shocked that they’d run a queer play in this notoriously conservative town. Of course, living in New York, I’m no stranger to the queer community, but I’m also not blind to the parts of our country that are less supportive.
After finding a parking space, I help my sister out of the car, and we make our way to the door to have our tickets scanned.
Once we’re inside, we’re swallowed by a sizable crowd. The foyer is bustling with far more patrons than I expected.
“Champagne?” I ask Eloise, placing a protective hand on my sister’s back, guiding her toward the bar.
The place is adorned with well-done nostalgia.
The theater invites you not only to see a play, but to experience a different time.
A time when people didn’t wear their pajamas out in public, when manners weren’t mocked, and calling someone sir or ma’am was a sign of respect, not spoken in sarcastic mockery.
A time when couples would spend an evening out, engaging with strangers, learning about one another in real time, not from an reel posted six months ago.
They would interact face-to-face without the impersonal barrier of a screen between them, and they would genuinely invest in each other’s lives.
It’s one of my favorite things about the theater and one of the main reasons I frequent the shows on Broadway. Those actors aren’t making the millions of those in Hollywood, but they bring a level of passion to each performance that I find unparalleled in cinema.
El’s eyes sparkle at my question. “Honestly, Talon, why are you single?” she jokes.
“Why are you?” I fire back with a raised brow.
She waves a dismissive hand.
“Please. What man do you know outside of our family that matches our level of ambition? The men in our circles don’t respect my mind and business prowess. They simply see me as something to conquer, and I’m not interested in being locked in an ivory tower.”
It’s sad, but her point is valid.
I’ve watched Eloise have many failed relationships because her partners ended up resenting her success and independence. Most men need to be needed, and my sister doesn’t need anyone.
“Ditto,” I say, bumping her with my shoulder. “Looks like we’re stuck with each other.”
She turns an arched brow toward me as we move up in line.
“Who’s going to lock you in a tower, Tal?”
“You seem to be forgetting my last relationship, which is shocking since you had some strong feelings toward Dahlia.”
“Bleh, Dahlia,” Eloise scoffs. “I was seriously afraid she was going to trick you into getting her pregnant.”
Laughter bubbles up my throat, and I decide not to tell her about the photo, text, and phone call I got from Dahlia on Christmas, begging to get back together.
When it’s our turn, I step up to the bar and place an order for a beer and a glass of Prosecco before El and I make our way toward our seats.
We’re on stage left, but the theater isn’t huge, so I’m confident we’ll be able to see everything just fine.
When the lights drop, my palms are sweating, and my knee is bouncing.
Ohmygod, I’m as nervous as if I were the one on stage.
But I needn’t have worried.
Zeke steps into the lights, and immediately, I feel the confidence radiating off him.
Nudging my sister’s arm, I whisper, “That’s him.”
Eloise leans into me and whispers back, “You were right. I would kill for those cheekbones.”
Zeke’s whole demeanor has changed, and it’s more than just the makeup on his face.
He projects his voice. His body language speaks as loudly as his words.
When his character is hurt, I hurt, and when he finally accepts himself and gives himself over to a lover who values him, I’m literally wiping tears from my eyes.
The only part that made my insides twist was his onstage kiss.
I’m still not sure why it left me with my fists as clenched as my jaw. The moment was beautiful.
Eloise discreetly passes me a tissue from her purse, for which I’m grateful.
As the actors and actresses take their final bow, I’m the first one out of my seat, clapping like a madman.
Always in solidarity, Eloise stands next to me, clapping just as aggressively until the rest of the audience rises from their seats to join us in a standing ovation.
When the house lights go up, I shuffle to the end of our row, preparing to leave, but Eloise grabs my sleeve.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“Um, it’s over. I was going to leave,” I say, wondering if I missed something.
“Aren’t you going to congratulate him on a job well done?” she asks.
“I told him good luck before the show, and you know, I don’t want to encroach on his territory.
Besides, I don’t really know how long it’ll be before he can leave.
I’ll make sure I see him tomorrow at work.
” In reality, I don’t know if Derek is here, and if he is, I don’t want to create any trouble for Zeke.
Plus, I know I need to come clean about who I really am.
So, tomorrow, I’ll take another coffee to the host stand, tell him how much I loved the play, and then potentially ruin the friendship that has brought me the most joy I’ve had in a while.
“Come on,” I tell my sister. “Let’s grab something to eat. ”