“You guys really helped write the original Legion?” the larger one asked Chloe.
“Helped, yeah.” Scott's response was flat. He didn't have time to get into it, as a girl approached. And then a group of three. And then someone wearing a press pass for an online review site.
They spent the next half hour answering questions, giving demos, and making small talk with the sudden onset of people. Zach engaged a couple of visitors in conversation and managed to learn that the flirty girl Rinslet gave the shirt to was talking them up and handing out discs.
He grabbed Chloe. “You’ve been here the whole time, right?”
Chloe stared back, mouth twisted, brows raised.
“Right. I know.” Of course she had. Zach shook his head. “Then who are they talking about? Who else has one of our shirts?”
Chloe turned away from his gaze. “I might have given one to Jordan. He is kind of pretty.”
A whisper echoed in the back of Zach’s head, and he ignored it. Pretending even for a second Rae was there would get him in trouble. Still, what was Chloe keeping from him? He grabbed Scott's attention away from a blogger asking intense questions about their coding methodology. “Hey, I'm gonna go find us some lunch. Will you be okay for a few minutes?”
Scott pursed his lips. “Five, tops.”
“I promise.” Zach extracted himself from the crowd. They needed to eat, but food was just an excuse. Too much was happening. He needed to walk away, clear his head, and convince the nagging part of his brain that wouldn’t shut up that Rae was nowhere in the building.
Seven minutes later, over-priced hot dogs and drinks in hand, he returned to the finally ebbing flow of interest. Of course he hadn’t seen her. Because she wasn’t there. So why wouldn’t the hopeful and suspicious part of his brain shut up?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Zach slid into the back of the auditorium next to his friends. He didn't want to be there. He wanted to be as far away as possible. The thought made his feet twitch, and he tapped his toes to keep from indulging in the compulsion. He would have settled for drinking in the hotel bar, but Chloe had insisted they needed to attend this. She said it would give them closure.
The same sick feeling churned in his gut that had been there two years ago. Except then it had been because he was planning to propose to Kelly to launch their new game. This time it was because someone else was launching their game, and their names wouldn't be anywhere on it.
“Hold still,” Scott growled.
Zach knew he was in trouble if Scott was complaining about him fidgeting. Zach clamped his jaw shut and folded his arms. He leaned against the back wall, hiding in the shadows and trying to calm down. It didn't help.
Chloe stood a few feet from both of them, feet shuffling back and forth. “It'll be fine.”
“How can you promise that?” Scott asked.
“Because I'm not the one with bad memories attached to that stage.” She nodded toward the front of the room.
That wasn't helpful.
Jordan stepped on the stage, and the audience erupted in cheers.
“DM let him do this?” Scott asked.
“He's their rebel poster boy,” Zach replied, voice low. Something about this felt wrong. It was just his imagination, right? Bad memories were making him paranoid. “Of course they did.”
“Good evening, Los Angeles.” Jordan's voice carried through the crowd. “I hear you're here to see something epic.”
More applause rolled through the room, punctuated with a few yells and whistles.
An ache hammered in Zach’s skull. The whole thing was too familiar. Even the working of the crowd was almost identical to two years ago.
Chloe moved farther away. “Try not to throw up before this is all over.”
That wasn't helpful either.
“You're going to have to wait just a little longer,” Jordan continued.
“What the hell?” Scott straightened up, echoing Zach's thoughts.
A hush fell over the audience.
“There's a special young lady in the audience this evening.” Jordan stepped away from the podium.
The speech wasn't just similar to two years ago—it was identical to Zach's.
“What the fuck is he doing?” Scott looked at Zach.
Zach frowned. “No clue.”
Chloe was gone, vanished out a side door without another comment.
“Chloe, sweetheart, are you out there?” Jordan called into the dark auditorium.
Scott coughed.
“What?” Zach asked. They couldn’t be doing this.
Except a familiar head of black hair had emerged from the audience and was walking toward the stage.
Jordan kept talking. “You have to understand, this woman is amazing. She's the reason I can wake up in the morning, and the reason I can do what I'm doing today.”