“Shit.”
“Stop cussing! This is exciting!”
“Damn.”
“That’s a curse word, Lisa. Say something else.”
“Bitch, I don’t know what to say!”
“Okay, well, at least we’re getting somewhere.” I reach my car, unlock it, and slide inside. “Plans for tonight?”
“My house at nine.”
“I have to work.”
“Well, I’ll order a pizza,” she threatens. “And make you come over.”
“Lisa, I really have to work.”
“Ryan got to hang out with you when he ordered pizzas!”
“Ryan ordered twenty pizzas.”
She blew out a breath. “Come over when you’re done. I’ll be waiting, but I can’t guarantee there will be any wine left.”
“I’ll bring a bottle.”
“Good girl,” she says. “Bye.”
As I pull away from the parking lot, I debate calling Ryan to tell him about the meeting. It truly felt like it was a success. Nick Bennett listened, explained in no uncertain terms that he thought both Lisa and I had potential, and offered to put our footage in front of producers.
Even if they didn’t opt to take us for the show, he thought the two of us had potential for a joint show at a big, local theater. I am positively buzzing with excitement, and of their own accord, my fingers dial Ryan.
When he answers, his voice is quiet. “We’re about to take off,” he whispers. “How’d it go?”
“Success!” I shout. A driver looks over at me from the next lane, and I realize my windows are cracked. “Success,” I say more quietly. “At least, I think so. Too early to tell, really.”
“I didn’t have a doubt in my mind,” he says, and in the background an airline attendant tells him to shut off his phone.
“I’ll hang up,” I say, “I just…well, I wanted to share the good news with you.”
“So glad you did,” he says. “Congratulations.”
“Ryan.” This time it’s a closer female voice, clipped and short, and I am willing to bet big money it belongs to the ice queen who picked Ryan up from his house. “Didn’t you hear the attendant? We’re taking off.”
“I’ve gotta go,” he says. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye,” I say, hearing the click of the ended call almost instantaneously.
I focus on driving home, but my mind is somewhere else, somewhere distant. I’m on top of the world one second, thrilled about the opportunities for my career, Lisa and I going places… If Nick’s prospects are serious, this could change our lives.
On the other hand, Ryan Pierce is flying away from me with a beautiful woman by his side. I trust him, and I know he wouldn’t lie to me, but…we are friends with benefits. We aren’t exclusive, we aren’t married—we aren’t anything, really.
Even if he promises nothing will happen between him and the agent, what happens when he spends time with her day after day while I’m thousands of miles away? And if not her, then someone else.
While one part of my heart is thrilled, the other is aching. Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about either of them at the moment.
Only time will tell.
The problem is that I’m impatient, and I don’t feel like waiting.
CHAPTER 33
Andi
“Andi, for the third time, will you bring me the freaking—” My dad pops his head out from the kitchen at Peretti’s and cuts himself off midsentence. “Andi?”
I’m sitting on a barstool at the counter staring deep into the flames of the oven, oblivious to the customers around me. I only vaguely hear my dad’s voice calling my name to bring him something or other to fix the leaky faucet.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, his voice a little gruff as he rounds the counter and takes a seat next to me. “What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing,” I say, forcing myself to snap back to attention. Neither my dad nor I are big in the way of talking about our feelings. We prefer to grunt and argue with each other until the problem has passed or otherwise fixed itself. “Sorry, just distracted.”
“I’ll say. I’ve asked you for the screwdriver several times.”
“Where’s the screwdriver?” I stand. “Sorry, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
It’s the truth, but that’s not the only reason I’m off balance. The adrenaline has eased from the morning’s meeting and the previous night’s thrills, and now Ryan’s far away and I’m waiting to hear from Nick. This odd limbo has me in some weird funk, and I can’t decide if I’m excited or sad, happy or depressed, tired or alert. Somehow, I manage to be none of the above, which is why I’m floating around in a fog of uncertainty.
“I recognize this, whatever it is,” my dad says. “I’ve been there. Something’s bothering you.”
“Comedy stuff,” I say. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t let it affect my schoolwork.”
“Is that all you think I care about?” he asks. “Your stupid grades?”
“Stupid grades?” I face him. “You’re the one who makes it sound like it’s the end of the world if I get a B+.”
“Nobody should get a B+ in art class, Andi. Draw something on a page and turn it in to your teacher.”
“It wasn’t an easy art class,” I mumble. “I suck at drawing.”
“But you don’t suck at comedy,” he says. “And that’s an art.”
I frown. “How do you know?”
My dad looks at his fingernails. They’re clean, but he plays with them anyway. “I just know.”
My dad has never been to a show, never supported my dreams of being a comic. He still wants me to be an accountant—stable job, stable pay, stable everything. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“You know that thingy with videos?” He glances at me, his cheeks reddening ever so slightly. “The tube or whatever.”
“YouTube?”
“Whatever. Where they put videos of you?”
It starts to click. “You’ve seen me on YouTube?”
“Rick has a channel and he puts all your stuff on there,” he says. “Your sister showed it to me once.”
“I am going to kill her,” I say through my teeth. “I thought you didn’t know how to use the internet.”
“I don’t,” he says. “But there’s only one button I have to click in the little bookmark tab and it just pops up for me. Magic.”
“Magic,” I mumble. “So you’ve seen me perform once?”
“Once?” He shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. “I’ve seen every one of your shows, kiddo.”
My jaw drops open. “But I thought…” I can’t even finish my sentence. “What about accounting?”
“I wanted you to get your education while you’re young. I didn’t go to college, and I wanted you to have that opportunity, to be able to get out of the restaurant biz if that’s what you desire.”
“Dad, I love working here. Peretti’s is great, and—”
He waves a hand. “I have no regrets about how my life turned out, but I want you to have whatever opportunities you may desire. I thought you were too young to decide whether or not you needed a college degree when you graduated high school, so I made you enroll.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You’ve got talent, kid.”