Chapter Ten
The music drowned out my day and my night. Jill and her castmates had grabbed guitars and jumped on stage at the bar post-show to jam out an impromptu version of Les Mis’ popular song One Day More. The show itself was amazing; the producers wanted to mix things up so they fast-forwarded the story to modern-day France and added guitars and drums to the orchestra of the off-Broadway production.
Now, we were at a nearby club in Soho, celebrating opening night of the month-long run. Imagine One Day More performed as a power ballad. Because, yes, Jill could handle a guitar too. She jammed hard on her Stratocaster and the amps howled out chords. The guy who played Marius, a young actor named Reeve, whipped the audience into a frenzy as he led the song. When he reached the chorus, he thrust the mic towards the crowd and they responded with the words they’d either known for years or learned when the Hugh Jackman movie became a hit.
My brother Nate was with me, but he was at the bar refilling our drinks. I raised an arm and sang along, the music smashing through my body, and echoing across the whole lot of us jammed together in front of the tiny stage. Reeve was a certified babe. He was tall and lanky, wore hipster jeans, and a tee-shirt with a vest. He had the requisite long hair that fell in his eyes while he sang. I’d met him once during rehearsals, and had asked Jill if she’d be into him because he seemed her type. He was straight, quite rare for a musical theater man. But Jill had reminded me of the old adage about not getting involved with people you work with. Good advice, indeed.
Maybe I should go for Reeve. Maybe Reeve was exactly what I’d need to get Bryan Leighton and his too-business-like approach out of my system. Maybe it was time to return to actors and other artists. Bryan had called me a few times after I took off from his factory that afternoon, but I didn’t pick up. He emailed too. He wanted to know where I was. If I was okay. If something was wrong.
My reply was simple: I forgot I had an appointment in the city. The factory is amazing, and I am learning so much.
I didn’t say anything more, and certainly not anything personal, and definitely not a thanks for the O! He didn’t reply, and his radio silence the rest of the evening affirmed that I’d made the right choice to bail.
Reeve belted out the final verse to the song, then mimed strumming a guitar solo alongside Jill as the song faded to its end. “Thank you so much for coming to the show, and to hang out with us all afterwards. You are a kickass audience, and you rock my red and black world,” Reeve said, and several women shrieked and held their arms out towards him.
As the singing actors put away their instruments, I found my brother at the bar. He handed me a vodka tonic. I’d probably only have a sip. I’d never been much of a drinker. “You sure you’re old enough to drink?” he asked.
“Oh, ha ha. You know I have been for two years now.”
He shook his head playfully. “You still seem like the baby sister to me.”
“Well, duh. I always will be.”
Maybe I didn’t need Reeve or another man to take my mind off Bryan. Maybe hanging out with my brother would be enough. I hadn’t seen him in several weeks. He was on the road a lot since he worked in business development for an advertising technology startup. He was a manager and hoped to be promoted to director soon. Until then, he had to put in a ton of hours visiting clients in the less-glamorous cities around the country. Nate clinked my vodka tonic with his beer, and said, “To good music, and to my little sister.”
If you looked closely, you could tell we were brother and sister. We had the same cheekbones, high and sharp. But where I had brown eyes and even darker hair, Nate was a sandy blond with all-American blue eyes.
“How are Mom and Dad? How did they seem when you there?” I asked. Nate had visited them earlier in the week while on his way to see a client in Boston.
“They’re hanging in there. Dad’s a little nervous about the loan coming due, I suspect, but Mom’s Mom. All stoic and tough and we’ll get through this. She’s trying out a few sales and mixing up the inventory a bit to see if that sparks some interest. And, get this — she’s doing one of those online daily discount type of deals next week.”
My mom had always been more of a traditional marketer, depending on foot traffic and tourist bureau promotions. That she was trying new things like online deals was perhaps a good sign. “I think I’m going to take the train out and see them tomorrow. I need to get away for the weekend.”
Nate raised an eyebrow, and I realized I’d said more than I intended. “Why? Don’t tell me there’s some dude you’re running away from?”
With that, I spilled my drink on the bar.
“I guess I was right,” Nate said knowingly, as he grabbed a napkin to clean up.
“That was just a really strong drink.”
“Strong? Sure. I’m sure it was so strong it took til your third sip to spill it. Now, spill. But not your drink. Who is he? And what did he do to you?” Nate made a fist with one hand and smacked his other palm. “Because I will seriously hurt him.”
I laughed nervously. “It’s nothing,” I said, because it was nothing. What happened with Bryan was truly nothing. Besides, Nate and Bryan weren’t best buddies anymore, but they kept in touch, so I didn’t need Nate to know. “I swear. Just someone at business school I liked isn’t into me.”
“Is he crazy?”
“Maybe.” I was relieved when Jill bumped her hip against me. Reeve was by her side, and had a heavy-lidded look in his eyes. He was wearing guyliner.
“Were we awesome or were we awesome?” Jill asked.
I’d already told her she was stunning as Eponine, belting out a nearly heavy-metal-esque version of On My Own. But I wanted her to know that the encore of One Day More was just as spectacular.
“You were the freaking bomb,” I said, then introduced Jill and Nate, and Nate and Reeve. They ordered drinks, and the guys chatted for a few minutes about the show. Jill pulled me aside.
The club had started blasting recorded songs through the speakers so we were surrounded by the din of music again. “How did it go today? Did anything happen?”
I pressed my teeth against my bottom lip and shook my head.
Jill pointed at me. “That’s your tell. When you do that thing with your teeth. So what really happened?”
I wasn’t going to be able to fool Jill, nor did I want to, so I gave her the quick version. Her dark blue eyes widened when I told her what went down on his couch. She held up her hand, waiting for me to high-five her. I gave her a quizzical look.
“Kat, you pretty much dry-humped him in his office. That is f*cking ballsy,” Jill said, with a mischievous grin.
“Stop! Don’t call it that. He used his – ” I wiggled my fingers.
She put her hands on her hips and gave me a pointed stare. “Fine. You dry humped him and he fingered you for the payoff. The fact that you want him so badly you can practically get off just through your clothes is a sign. I went out with this singer from an indie band a year ago. Stefan, remember?”
I nodded and Jill continued. “I wanted him so badly that the first time we did it, I was calling out his name within ten seconds of him being inside me.” Jill had a wistful look in her eyes, and I could tell she’d taken a trip back in time.
“Why are you telling me this, Jill?”
“Because. Because sometimes it’s just so good that it’s like all they have to do is touch you and,” Jill tapped my arm with her index finger, “And you are 50,000 degrees hot for them.”
“So, are you going out with this Stefan now? Are you dating him?” Like a good cross-examiner, I knew the answer before I asked.
Jill shook her head.
“See? That’s my point. What does it matter? He might have my number in the chemistry department, but I want the whole package, and I’m obviously not going to get it with him.”
Jill sighed heavily. “Fine. Be that way.” She tipped her forehead to Reeve. “I know someone who might want to take your mind off Bryan.”
“He is cute,” I admitted.
She nudged me with an elbow. “He thinks you’re cute too. Let’s go chat.”
When we returned to the boys, Jill struck up a conversation with Nate, sliding into her role as wingwoman.
Reeve moved closer to me. “So, you liked the show?”
“It was great.”
“What did you think about the modern feel of it?”
“It was the best. Master of the House was like a Jay-Z rap, and when you sang Empty Chairs at Empty Tables you sounded like the lead singer of Arcade Fire, and they’re only my favorite band ever.”
“Arcade Fire pretty much sets the standard for musical awesome. They’re amazing.”
“And so was your show. I was definitely into it.”
“What else are you into, Kat?” he asked.
I wasn’t sure if it was a prelude to a line, so I answered him directly. “Movies. I like movies. You?”
“I’d like to star in some movies,” he said. “I have an audition next week for a Joss Whedon film.”
“Wow. That would be incredible.”
I’d dated an actor once and it hadn’t worked out, but Reeve had the self-confidence Michael lacked. So as we talked about our shared love of all things Joss Whedon, I let my mind wander to his mouth, imagining what it would be like to kiss him. His lips were red and full, and he smelled of sweat and beer and the adrenaline of a fabulous opening night. I bet he tasted good, like charisma, like stage presence, like a star in the making who knew how to perform. I bet I’d enjoy the kiss. But I couldn’t kiss him tonight. I’d already been kissed by someone who could turn me inside out. By someone who had tilted my world.
When the night wound down, Reeve asked if I wanted to go somewhere quieter and have a nightcap. The offer would be tempting to almost any girl, but it was wasted on me. “I think you’re incredibly talented and will have an epic career,” I said to Reeve. “I have an early wake-up call tomorrow so I should go.”
I was caught up in Bryan, no matter how hard I tried to protect myself. He was the one I wanted. He was the one I’d never stopped wanting. I only wished Bryan wanted me in the same way. Body and heart.