Chapter 53: FYI: I Outpitched You Ch 19
FYI: I Outpitched You Ch 19
Chapter 19
Tuesday Evening – Final Challenge Week
Callie didn’t look back.
The flowers sat cool in her hand, velvety petals brushing her skin as she stepped off the curb toward her car. Roman followed at a careful distance, the weight of his invitation lingering between them like perfume.
“I’ll follow you,” she said without turning around.
Roman opened his mouth—probably to protest, maybe to offer to drive—but Callie slid into her car before he had the chance. She started the engine. The bouquet lay on the passenger seat beside her, pretty and unnerving all at once.
Behind her, Miles stood near the glass doors, eyes shadowed but still watching.
Roman turned toward him.
They locked eyes.
Roman’s smile wasn’t friendly. It was sharp. Varnished with charm, but chipped at the edges.
“Funny,” he said lightly. “Didn’t peg you for the sentimental type.”
Miles didn’t flinch. “She deserves more than charm. Maybe you’ll remember that this time.”
Roman’s smirk faltered just slightly, but he recovered fast. “Enjoy the rest of your week, Miles.”
“I intend to.”
Miles walked away. He didn’t glance back. But something about Roman’s smile stayed with him. It was too knowing. Too clean around the edges. Miles didn’t believe in gut reactions most days—but this time, his instincts didn’t whisper. They clanged. He kept walking, though. Because he trusted Callie. And because no amount of doubt was going to make him back down first.
\---
The booth felt curated—like Roman had planned every detail, from the low lighting to the quiet table tucked into the corner. Callie slid into her seat, her coat brushing the leather cushion as she settled in. The bouquet sat politely beside her, drawing glances from a nearby couple. Roman’s cologne was familiar, subtle but sharp. Everything about the moment was careful. And Callie felt it.
For the first few minutes, it was small talk. How hectic the week had been, how the swap challenge was unlike anything he’d expected.
Roman gestured toward their half-empty glasses, offering to refill them, but Callie waved him off with a polite smile. He was trying—she gave him credit for that—but it felt rehearsed. Like a monologue delivered to make amends, not to deepen connection. Her thoughts slipped elsewhere. Miles’s smile. The kiss. The weight behind it. She didn’t resent Roman’s effort; she just didn’t want it in the way he hoped.
Then Roman leaned forward, tone dropping.
“I’ve been thinking about how things started between us,” he said. “I pushed. Harder than I should’ve.”
Callie blinked. “You were persistent.”
Roman winced slightly. “Annoying. I didn’t respect that you wanted time. I was excited—caught up in it. But I see now that I didn’t listen.”
She paused. Then nodded once. “Thanks for saying that.”
He smiled, softer this time. “I want to do better.”
They moved through dinner with ease—wine, roasted chicken with lemon glaze, a shared chocolate torte. Conversation meandered from campaign brands to awkward high school jobs. It wasn’t hard. But it wasn’t quite easy either.
Callie never fully relaxed.
Near the end, she set her spoon down and cleared her throat.
“So… the other night,” she said. “In the parking garage.”
Roman stiffened, then recovered so quickly it almost didn’t register.
“Oh,” he said with a chuckle. “Yeah—late meeting. I was heading out, saw your car. Thought maybe you were still around. Figured we could grab a drink, catch up. I was checking to see if you were inside when Miles showed up.”
Callie nodded, expression unreadable. “That makes sense.”
Roman kept talking about something else—Catalyst’s upcoming product launch—but Callie barely listened. She gave all the right smiles and comments, but a knot had formed just beneath her ribs, quiet and stubborn.
\---
The night air had cooled, breezy against her arms as they walked toward their cars.
Roman spoke as if they were planning the next date.
Callie stopped beside her door.
“I’m glad we talked,” she said. “Dinner was nice.”
Roman smiled. “Yeah. I think we hit reset pretty well.”
She shook her head gently. “Roman… I need to be honest.”
His face didn’t change—just froze.
“I think we work better as friends,” she said. “You’re easy to talk to, and I appreciate the way you showed up tonight. But I don’t feel the right spark. Not romantically.”
The pause held.
Roman’s voice came quieter. “Is this about the past? Or about Miles?”
Callie didn’t flinch. “This is about me knowing what I want—and what I don’t.”
Roman nodded once. But it was tight. His shoulders didn’t relax.
“Fair,” he said after a beat.
Callie gave a small smile. “Thanks for dinner.”
She got into her car, fastened her seatbelt, and didn’t look back. Not right away.
But when she checked her rearview mirror before pulling out, Roman was still standing beside his car. Still watching.
The knot in her stomach twisted a little tighter.
Something felt wrong. Not loud. Just... off.
\---
Callie’s apartment was quiet, lit by the blue glow of her laptop. She sat cross-legged on the couch, hair twisted into a messy knot, the bouquet already removed from sight.
She opened a draft email and addressed it to Peyton.
Subject: Back-Up Strategy – Just in Case
Hey,
Just finished a rough pass of a backup campaign concept. If anything happens to the current plan, this might give us something solid to pivot from.
Attaching storyboards, visuals, and notes. It’s playful but grounded—kind of a hybrid of our old flavor mapping idea and the emotion storytelling from Friday’s deck.
Keep it safe. Just… in case.
–C
She hit send.
Closed the laptop.
Stared at the wall.
She lingered by the window after shutting her laptop, gaze fixed on the darkened city beyond. The streetlights flickered like uncertain thoughts, and somewhere in the distance, sirens threaded through the quiet. She tried to convince herself it was enough—this backup, this plan, this step forward. But the feeling in her chest said otherwise. Said the game had changed. Said someone else might be playing without telling her the rules.
Tomorrow was Wednesday.
Day Three of the swap.
And Callie was already recalculating.