Page 53 of Charming Like Us

Ambrose has a faux-hawk with a side fade, and I’m jealous of hiscleanyellow button-down. Gold Tiffany bracelets complement his dark-brown skin, and his sister is equally put-together. Black hair gelled back in a curly pony, her trendy jumpsuit is spotless and ready for a red-carpet event.

She’s a kickass filmmaker. He’s an ace sound mixer. Singularly, they’re vets in the industry. Together, they’re the bestpower duo I know, and I’m the lucky producer who landed them on my team forWe Are Calloway.

“Thank God I didn’t have my camera out,” I say with a hiking smile, and I walk to the small closet at the end of the boardroom. I keep clothes here when I pull 18-hour workdays. “Broken equipment isn’t on the budget.”

“Neither is a round of extra coffees,” Ali teases.

“Who saidyou’regetting an extra latte?” Ambrose banters with his sister. “You’re over there scrolling through Pinterest for a honeymoon you’ve rescheduledtentimes. At this point, you should wait for tickets to pop up to fly to the moon.”

Ali and I laugh.

“Shut it down, I’m so close to scheduling this trip to Barbados,” she tells him.

I take a charcoal-gray button-down shirt off a hanger and smile back at Ali. “What happened to Maui?”

“Troy changed his mind.”

“And byTroy, she meansAlichanged her mind,” Ambrose cuts in. “You should’ve done what I did and went right after the reception. Flight to Malta. No one but me and Cody and paradise.”

Talk about honeymoons is a reminder that I’m very single and surrounded by newlyweds. I attended Ali’s wedding, Ambrose’s wedding, Maximoff Hale’s wedding all within the same year, and it’s only July.

It didn’t bother me before.I’ll date when I can, I’d usually say, but now, a hot feeling flares up…a feeling like the one I felt with Everly in the Louvre.

I try to take a breath.

My personal life shouldn’t be affecting my work. So I tell Ambrose, “I’d drink to that declaration. But my drink is currently soaked in my shirt.” I shrug on the fresh button-down and return to the table, buttoning it closed quickly.

They stare at me a little more keenly.

I take a seat, about to start the pitch but they share a furtive look.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your fly is down, sis,” Ambrose tells me.

Fuck.

I zip up my pants. Heat swathing my neck. I let out a weak laugh, not even able to recover as smoothly as I know I can.

“You alright, Jack?” Ali asks.

“Yeah.” I run a hand through my hair. “Just lack of sleep.”Oscar.

Really, it’s Oscar.

For the briefest second, I almost consider telling them. Asking for advice. Ambrose is a gay man and in a great relationship with his husband. Maybe he’d understand. But it feels pretty unprofessional. We typically talk about our families and weekend plans. Office small talk. No one in production is spilling heartaches and lamenting their struggles to me, and I hesitate to be the first.

Really, at the end of it all, I think I don’t mention questioning my sexuality because there’s only one person I really want to talk to about it.

And he’s not here.

“What’s the pitch?” Ali asks, back to business.

“A spin-off ofWe Are Calloway, starring Charlie.”

Ambrose’s eyes widen. “You’re serious?”

“We are talking about Charlie Cobalt?” Ali questions, just as skeptical as her brother.