Page 33 of Make a Scene

“I thought he was going to kiss me. Then I realized it might be in my head. But it definitely looked like I was leaning in for a kiss, so I panicked and licked some frosting that was left from the cake eating contest we’d done.”

“Well, this doesn’t sound very professional,” Kym said into her mug.

“Yeah, I might’ve messed things up. I have no idea if he wants to continue with this agreement. He might be too weirded out.”

Her guard had dropped. She blamed the sugar high.

“Don’t overthink it,” Nia said. “Touch base and confirm that things are still going according to plan.”

Retta let her friend’s sensible words settle over her. “You’re right.”

Kym nodded. “Okay, but more on this cake eating contest.”

Duncan’s sister had joined him for one of his classes again, and he was now showing her all the advantages of having a sibling who owned a gym.

“Pressed juice, water, or kombucha?” Duncan asked, looking into the staff room refrigerator.

“Water,” Gwen replied.

They stood near the table, and Duncan knew what his sister was about to ask before she said anything.

“So, have you started writing your speech?”

Duncan rubbed the back of his neck. “Kinda.”

He’d not even thought about it yet.

“Let me guess. You’ve finished and are now going back to add iambic pentameter and make it rhyme,” he said.

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Actually, I’m worried about it.”

He frowned. “Why? Just string a few words together about the passage of time and happiness.”

“See, that’s exactly why I have to stress over it. I don’t even know if you’ll show up to the party let alone write a good speech.”

Duncan shrugged. “I’ll be there. I haven’t decided if I want to commit to speaking though.”

“That means there’s more pressure on me to come up with something profound.”

He sighed. Gwen had always been willing to add stress to her life to maintain harmony or make others happy. It was evident from her career path to her choice in boyfriends. “If I promise I’ll write something, will you chill?”

She broke into a grin. “Yes.”

“Fine.”

“Good.” Gwen punched his shoulder. “And thank you.”

“Whatever,” he said.

As Duncan was handing his sister some promotional pens for her to take and share, Anthony burst through the staff room doors.

“What’s taking you so long—” The big man skidded to a stop.

The hard planes of his business partner’s face softened ever so slightly when he spotted Gwen.

“Hey, Tony,” his sister said to Anthony.

Nobody in the entire world, that Duncan knew of, could get away with calling his best friend that. Ever since he’d known him, if anyone had slipped and shortened his name to Tony, he’d scowl and swiftly correct them. He assumed Anthony let it slide with Gwen simply on the strength of the two men’s friendship.