Opening Night
The party’s loud and flamboyant, just like most of the people attending. There’s a cavalcade of “Darling!” and “You were FABULOUS!” and “I loved it!”, and through it all, I try to take the compliments and make small talk, when all I want to do is find Ethan and bury myself in his chest.
I spot him across the room, chatting with a throng of women all desperate to get his attention, but all the while, he keeps one eye on me. The way he looks at me keeps permanent color in my cheeks. Even across the room, he radiates sex. I pity the effect he’s having on the poor women huddled around him.
“So what’s the story with you and Ethan?” the reviewer from Stage Diary asks. “I’ve heard you had a tumultuous love affair at drama school. Are you still together?”
Ethan takes a sip of champagne and nods at the woman talking to him.
I can’t stop watching him. “No. Not together.”
“Friends?”
He moves his gaze to me and stays there. “No. Not exactly friends.”
“What then?”
Ethan frowns. Does he know I’m talking about him? “He’s … Ethan.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m still figuring that out.”
“Hmmm, intriguing.”
“Yep. Definitely that.”
Marco swoops in and kisses me on the cheek. He’s doing that a lot tonight. It’s pretty obvious he’s ecstatic with the reception the show has received.
“Marco, I’m trying to get Miss Taylor to give me the scoop on her relationship with her costar. She’s being cagey. Care to elaborate?”
“Dear lady,” Marco says, “if I could figure out what’s going on between my leads, rehearsals would have been far less fraught with tension and angst. Then again, the show would have been lifeless. Whatever’s going on between them, I pray it continues. Now, let’s talk about the fabulous write-up you’re going to give us.”
Marco puts his arm around the woman and leads her away.
I barely notice. Ethan’s still staring at me. Amid all this excitement and energy, he calms me.
He excuses himself from the women around him and walks toward me, so handsome in his suit. People congratulate him as he passes, and even though he acknowledges them, he keeps his attention on me.
When he reaches me, he holds out his champagne glass.
“To us.”
“To us,” I say, and clink his glass. “We were amazing tonight, even if I do say so myself.”
“We were,” he says, “but I wasn’t toasting the show.”
He leans in and kisses my cheek. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, you make me think very bad thoughts. Please stop.”
I sip my champagne and resist fanning my face. “Funny. I was about to say the exact same thing to you.”
The rest of the night is a blur. We spend time with his parents and sister. Chat with Tristan and his date. Have our photo taken for a slew of social pages. And through it all, a simmering tension crackles between us.
Every look is filled with heat and expectation. Every touch sends sparks twisting through my abdomen.
When the party wraps up, he’s there with my coat. As he slips it on, he presses a soft kiss to the side of my neck.
I shiver and close my eyes.
“Sorry,” he says and steps away. “I just … I’m finding it very difficult to keep my hands off you tonight.” He shakes his head and laughs. “Well, let’s be honest, I find it difficult to keep my hands off you all the time. Tonight is just extra tough.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
BEGINNING OF THE END
Three Years Earlier
Westchester, New York
The Grove
Erika walks into the room like she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. There’s absolute silence. The tension is palpable.
After Saturday night’s showcase, agents, directors, and producers had the weekend to submit offers. Now, it’s the moment of truth when we find out who’s been offered what.
“First of all,” Erika says as she hugs a stack of envelopes, “let me just say how proud I am. The quality of your performances on Saturday was excellent, and I couldn’t have asked for any of you to be more committed in sharing yourselves with your audience. Having said that, for those of you who don’t have firm offers, don’t despair. It doesn’t mean you’re not talented, and it certainly doesn’t mean you’re not employable. It just means you weren’t right for the roles being filled.”
She walks around the room and gives out envelopes. Ethan gets two. So do I. A handful of others get double offers. Most get one. A select few don’t get any.
Aiyah sits with empty hands and bursts into tears. Erika hugs her and assures her the work will come.
I open my envelopes with shaking fingers.