Page 45 of The Maine Event (Romancing the Workplace #2)

TWENTY-THREE

The energy inside the Ogunquit Playhouse is electric as Dan and I push through the doors. Crowds of excited parents and kids fill the lobby, chattering and laughing.

“Wow, what a turnout!” Dan says, his eyes wide as he takes it all in. “Chloe is going to be thrilled to have us cheering her on.”

I nod, smiling at the thought. “She’s worked so hard for this.”

As we make our way through the throng to find our seats, I feel my phone buzz in my purse. Fishing it out, I see Jonathan Harcourt’s name flash across the screen. My stomach clenches. What could he possibly want now, right when I’m about to watch Chloe’s big moment?

I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the answer button. Dan notices and raises an eyebrow questioningly. “Everything okay?”

I hit decline and drop the phone back in my bag. “It’s nothing that can’t wait. Tonight is about Chloe.”

But even as I say it, I feel the ghost of my old instincts twitching.

The part of me that never let a call go unanswered.

That measured self-worth in responsiveness and resolution times.

For years, I let work infiltrate every corner of my life like a slow leak—until it eroded everything personal I could have built.

Not tonight.

Tonight, I’m not a marketer or a strategist or a brand whisperer. I’m not the woman chasing validation in boardrooms and rebrands. I’m just Rachel. Someone who got lucky enough to be here, on this night, in this seat, about to watch a girl I’ve come to love do something extraordinary.

It’s strange, this sense of wholeness. Foreign, but welcome. Like slipping into a version of myself I didn’t realize I’d been missing. One who chooses presence over performance. One who understands that sometimes, the most important deal you ever make… is to simply show up.

And I’m all in.

As we settle into our seats, I look around at the faces of all the other proud parents, grandparents, and siblings. The love and support in this room is palpable.

The lights dim and a hush falls over the audience. The velvet curtains part and a single spotlight illuminates the stage. There, in the center, stands Chloe. She looks so poised and confident, her midnight blue dress shimmering under the lights.

As the first notes of her song fill the theater, I feel Dan’s hand find mine, our fingers intertwining. Chloe’s voice rings out pure and strong, the melody wrapping around us like a warm embrace.

“She’s incredible,” Dan says, his voice thick with emotion.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I watch Chloe pour her heart into every word, and everything else fades away.

The stress of creating a new agency from scratch, the pressure of delivering my very best work for Harcourt Foods, the constant buzz of my phone, the weight of expectations.

All that matters is the beautiful, brave girl on that stage and the man beside me.

As Chloe hits the final soaring note, Dan and I leap to our feet, our cheers mingling with the thunderous applause that erupts from the crowd.

Pride surges through me, so fierce and overwhelming that it feels physical.

I steal a glance at Dan. His eyes are fixed on Chloe, awe and pride etched into every line of his face.

He’s not the same man who accidentally burst into my motel room.

There’s a softness to him now, a peace. And I wonder if he sees the change in me, too.

I wonder if he feels it—that subtle but seismic shift in how I see the world.

Once, I would’ve watched Chloe perform through a lens of performance metrics—how well she projected, how her stage presence might read on video, how the judges might perceive her. Now, all I see is her bravery. The way she stands in front of hundreds of strangers and dares to be seen.

I feel something crack open in me, wide and tender.

Because maybe that’s what love really is—not a grand gesture or a declaration made in front of a studio audience.

Maybe it’s this. Sitting beside someone who helps you see what truly matters.

Cheering for a girl who trusted you enough to let you into her life.

And just like that, I know—I’m not just here to witness a performance. I’m here to witness a transformation. Hers. Mine. Ours.

“Go, Chloe!” Dan shouts, his face split in a grin that rivals the spotlight.

Chloe takes a bow, her eyes scanning the audience until they land on us. Her smile is radiant, filled with the pure, unbridled joy of a dream realized. In that smile, I see a reflection of the woman she’ll become—strong, resilient, chasing her passions with reckless abandon.

I lean into Dan’s side, his arm coming to wrap around my shoulders. “Have you come round now about the dress?” I ask.

“I have,” he agrees, pressing a kiss to my temple. “You were right. She’s not a child anymore. She looks amazing.”

“And it doesn’t make you nervous?”

“Are you kidding me? I’m terrified.”

I turn to face Dan fully, my hand coming up to rest on his chest. His heart beats a steady rhythm beneath my palm, as constant and sure as the man himself. His eyes, so often guarded, sometimes haunted even, are now open and warm, reflecting the stage lights like stars.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice barely audible over the ongoing applause. “For inviting me into your life, into Chloe’s life. I didn’t know how much I needed you both until now.”

Dan’s hand covers mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Thank you for being here, for seeing us. For choosing us.”

Dan opens his mouth, like he wants to say something more, but instead, he pulls me in closer. The gesture says it all. Safe. Steady. Here.

For a moment, I let myself truly feel it—the gravity of being chosen, of choosing back.

It’s easy to take for granted that love will be chaotic, like the ones we’re told about in movies and novels.

But this—this quiet, consistent presence—it’s the kind of love that builds a life.

That holds you steady when everything else is spinning.

I press my cheek to his shoulder and close my eyes, allowing myself to believe in the simple beauty of this night. The stage lights, the music still echoing in my chest, Chloe’s triumph still reverberating through the crowd like thunder.

If I’d answered Harcourt’s call, I’d probably be knee-deep in details, talking timelines and deliverables. But I didn’t. I’m here. And the version of me that’s learning to stay present, to love fully, is more than capable of leading an agency and showing up for the people she loves.

I’m not giving up who I was. I’m just making space for who I’ve become.

As the applause finally begins to die down, Dan and I retake our seats, our hands still entwined. On stage, the emcee steps up to the microphone, ready to announce the next performer. But my attention is solely on the man beside me, on the future that stretches out before us, bright and boundless.

I lean my head on Dan’s shoulder, content to bask in the afterglow of Chloe’s triumph. Whatever comes next, whatever challenges lie ahead, I know we’ll face them together. A family, in every sense of the word.

As the next performer begins their act, I find my mind drifting, reflecting on the winding path that led me here.

Just a few months ago, I was consumed by my work, convinced that my career was the only thing that mattered.

But now, sitting in this theater, with Dan’s hand in mine, I realize how much I’ve changed.

It’s not just about prioritizing personal life over professional ambition, though that’s certainly part of it. It’s about opening myself up to the possibility of connection, of love, of family. It’s about recognizing that there’s more to life than the next big client or making partner.

I glance at Dan, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the stage lights. He catches my gaze and smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way I’ve grown to adore. I’m overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude, of wonder at the unexpected turns life can take.

“What are you thinking about?” Dan asks, leaning close so I can hear him over the music.

I shake my head, a soft laugh escaping my lips. “I’m just happy.”

I lean my head on his shoulder, taking in the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his presence. On stage, the performer hits a high note, their voice soaring over the audience. And as the crowd erupts into applause once more, I join in, my heart full to bursting.

When the applause fades, the emcee takes the stage once more, his voice booming through the speakers. “Wasn’t that incredible, folks? The talent we’ve seen tonight is truly outstanding!”

I nod in agreement, my gaze still fixed on the stage. Beside me, Dan leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he watches with rapt attention.

As the final performer exits the stage and the applause fades to a hum of conversation, the theater settles into a kind of reverent buzz.

People shift in their seats, programs rustle, someone behind us lets out an anxious sigh.

I glance around the auditorium, noting the nervous energy vibrating in the air—a mix of anticipation, hope, and pride.

This isn’t just a school event. For these kids, it’s a chance to be seen, to shine.

Dan leans in slightly, his voice low. “Do you think she’s nervous right now?”

I smile. “Maybe a little. But she’s prepared. She’s got that quiet determination—the kind that sneaks up on you and then blows the roof off.”

He chuckles. “Wonder where she gets that from.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t hide my grin.

“And now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for,” the emcee continues, a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s time to announce our winners!”

The tension in the air is palpable, a collective breath held as everyone waits for the verdict.

I find myself gripping Dan’s hand tighter, my heart racing in my chest. Whatever happens, Chloe made it to the state finals.

A huge achievement and one I hope she is proud of.

That said, I think her performance was so good, it deserves more.

“In third place, we have… Mia Johnson from Lewiston High School!”

A petite girl with braided hair bounds onto the stage, her face split in a grin as she accepts her trophy. The crowd cheers, a wave of support and admiration washing over the theater.

“And in second place… Liam Nguyen from Oakridge High School, Bangor!”

A boy in a red bowtie takes the stage, his steps measured and confident. He shakes the emcee’s hand, holding his trophy high as the audience applauds.

“And now, the moment of truth. Our first-place winner, who will be moving on to the national competition and representing the great State of Maine in New York City…”

The pause seems to stretch for an eternity, the anticipation building with each passing second. My leg shakes with nervous excitement, my free hand clutching the armrest.

“Chloe Rhodes from Ellesbec High School, Portland!”

The world erupts in a blur of sound and motion. I’m on my feet, cheering until my throat is raw, tears of joy streaming down my face. On stage, Chloe stands tall and proud, her eyes shining as she accepts her trophy and a giant bouquet of flowers.

Dan pulls me into a tight hug, his own cheeks damp with emotion. “She did it, Rachel. She actually did it.”

I nod against his shoulder, too choked up to speak. In this moment, everything feels right, everything feels perfect. The future stretches before us, bright and full of promise.

The house lights come up, and the theater buzzes with excited chatter as people begin to file out.

I turn to Dan, my heart still racing with adrenaline. “Let’s go congratulate our superstar!”

He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Lead the way.”

We make our way through the crowd, exchanging smiles and high-fives with the other proud parents and supporters. Backstage, it’s a whirlwind of activity, with performers rushing to change out of costumes and gather their belongings.

And then, there she is. Chloe, her face flushed with triumph, her trophy clutched tightly to her chest. She spots us and lets out a squeal of delight, running to throw her arms around Dan.

“Dad! Rachel! Did you see? I won!”

Dan lifts her off her feet, spinning her around. “We saw, honey. You were incredible up there. I’m so, so proud of you.”

I pull them both into a hug, my voice thick with emotion. “We both are, Chloe. You shone like a star tonight.”

She beams at us, her eyes sparkling. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Without both of you.”

As we walk out into the cool night air, Chloe chattering excitedly about the upcoming nationals, I slip my hand into Dan’s.

He squeezes it gently, and I feel the warmth of it spread through me—not just through my fingers, but deeper, into the quiet parts of myself that used to feel so uncertain, so incomplete.

There’s no fanfare now. No audience watching.

Just the three of us under a star-scattered Maine sky, our breath visible in the crisp air, the smell of salt and pine carrying on the wind.

Chloe walks a few paces ahead, her trophy swinging by her side, already humming what might be her next song.

Dan’s arm slips around my waist, and we fall into step without needing to say anything.

And I know, with absolute certainty, that I’m home. Not because of where I am, but because of who I’m with. Love didn’t arrive as I expected it to—not loud, not dramatic—but quietly, insistently, until it became the foundation beneath my feet.

We don’t need to chase applause. We have something better. We have each other.

Tomorrow will come, full of deadlines and logistics and to-do lists. But tonight, under these stars, I have everything I need.