Wicked White

by Michelle A. Valentine

“Okay, sure. Why not? It’ll be fun,” I say.

  Jason smiles. “Awesome! Pick a place that you want to meet at tonight.”

  Darcy takes a couple steps back so that Jason can’t see her face, and she grins and mouths “thank you” before licking her lips in a seductive way that tells me her thoughts are solely focused on our handsome chef.

  That night Darcy and I meet up with Jason and his friend Shane, who is equally as attractive as Jason but has no interest in theater whatsoever. Shane’s a day trader, hoping to make it big on Wall Street. I guess everyone who comes to New York really does have a dream.

  Darcy leans into Jason as they sit across from me and Shane in the booth, putting on her best come-hither expressions for the guy she’s been too shy to ask out directly for nearly a year but has been mad crushing on. She’s in seventh heaven right now.

  “So, Jason tells me you have an audition tomorrow?” Shane asks as his warm, hazel eyes focus on me, giving me his undivided attention.

  Shane’s cute in that uptight businessman kind of way. His face has strong, masculine features like a chiseled jawline with a nice clean shave and a perfect smile. His kind eyes are evenly spaced and placed below perfectly trimmed eyebrows. The dark hair on the top of his head is cropped short but has a bit of gel in it for style.

  I take a sip of my lime margarita and nod. “Yes. It’s just a small role with only a couple lines, but I’d get to join in the cast in a few songs, so I’m excited.”

  He grins. “Hey, everyone has to start somewhere, right? And I’m sure you’ll whomp it over the fence.”

  I laugh at his mixed-up metaphor. “You mean knock it out of the park, don’t you?”

  “No.” He laughs. “I hate using the same old boring lines to express things, so I tend to mix things up a little on purpose. It’s just this weird thing I like to do.”

  “That’s cute,” I tell him.

  “You’re cute,” he immediately says with hopeful eyes, and I blush. “You know, Iris, if you need some moral support for tomorrow, I would be happy to go with you.”

  I lift my eyebrows. “Really? Wow. That’s very nice of you, but totally not necessary.”

  Shane nods. “A little too forward on my part, I apologize. I tend to do that sometimes too.”

  “It’s okay.” I pat his hand. “It was a kind gesture.”

  His eyes flit down to my hand and then back up to my face. “Maybe you’ll give me another chance sometime to not screw things up with my too-forward first impressions.”

  Shane seems like a supersweet man, and if this would’ve been prior to me meeting Ace White, I might’ve actually been interested, but Ace has ruined me for all other men. I can’t help but compare Shane now, and my heart just isn’t feeling anyone who isn’t Ace. Maybe someday that will change, but for now, I just can’t imagine dating anyone else.

  “Perhaps, someday. I just had my heart broken, and I’m just not ready to date yet.”

  “I understand.” Shane gives me a sad smile like he’s disappointed but doesn’t push me any more. “Now let’s just enjoy the rest of the night and pretend like I didn’t just make this awkward as hell for us.”

  I spend the rest of the night with my friends and my new companion, Shane, relaxing and laughing, doing my best to ignore the fact that I have an impending audition looming over me. I want to land the role so bad, and the one person I desperately want around for moral support won’t be there.

  “Iris Easton, you’re up,” the stagehand announces to the group of over fifty women that I’m up against for this role.

  I nod and push myself up off the stage floor, make my way over to the center mark, and acknowledge the director and his crew, who are sitting in the first row, centered in the auditorium. “I’m Iris Easton, and I’ll be auditioning for Sylvia.”

  “Proceed with the song choice that you’ve prepared for us,” the director calls out.

  I nod toward the pianist, and the petite woman with blond hair begins playing the notes for “I’m Not That Girl.” My natural instinct is to close my eyes and sing, but all of the performance things I’ve worked on with Ace rush back to my mind, and I’m reminded that I need to connect with the audience instead of shutting them out like I have the habit of doing.

  I take a deep breath and make eye contact with the director, lifting my head, showing him that I’m proud of my ability to sing this song. When I open my mouth, the words flow from me, and there’s no faking the emotion of feeling broken. It’s real, because this song reminds me so much of Ace that it physically hurts.

  On the last lyric of the song, my voice wavers as I’m overcome with emotion and allow the tears to fall down my cheeks.

  I sniff and wipe my face just as the director says, “Okay, we’ll be in touch. Next.”

  I clutch my chest as I walk off stage, knowing that even if I don’t land this part, I put every bit of emotion I had into it and left my heart lying out there on the floor. I have no regrets about what I just did out there.

  I close my eyes, wishing that I could pick up the phone and call Gran or be able to run into Ace’s arms and tell him how well that went, but I can’t. Both of them are gone out of my life, and I’m all alone.

  After I’m only about five blocks from the theater, I spot a familiar face passing by me on the street. “Shane?”

  Today he’s dressed in a fitted black suit and gray tie, looking pretty hot in his business attire.

  He smiles the moment his hazel eyes meet mine. “Iris? Hi. How are you? Did you have your audition yet?”

  I return his smile with one of my own, flattered that he remembered. “Yes. I just came from there, actually.”

  “How’d it go?” he asks with genuine interest shining in his expression.

  I shrug. “I won’t know for a week or so if I get a callback, but I feel like I did my best.”

  Shane nods. “That’s all anyone can ever ask for, right?”

  It’s hard not to get caught up in his positivity. I can’t stop smiling at him. His happiness is infectious. “So what brings you out this way?”

  He motions to the restaurant behind him. “I had lunch with a friend and I was about to catch a cab back to work; do you want to share one?”

  I shake my head. “I’m heading home to Brooklyn. That’s completely out of your way.”

  “I don’t mind,” he answers instantly with an easy smile on his face. “I’ll happily ride in the back of a cab around the city if that means I get to talk to you more.”

  Heat floods my cheeks and I know without a doubt I’m blushing fiercely. I chew on my bottom lip while I gaze up at Shane’s hopeful expression. He’s a really nice guy—maybe the nicest man I’ve ever met in this city. I want to give him a chance but I’m not ready to date. I am, however, ready for a friend.

  “If I say yes, can this just be as friends?” I ask, hopeful that this doesn’t offend him.

  His lips pull into a smile. “I would love to be your friend.”

  Twenty minutes later the cab pulls up to a stop on my curb and I push my door open. Shane slides out behind me, asking the cabbie to please wait for a moment.

  He turns to me. “Iris, I’d really like to see you again. I know you’ve been hurt, and when you’re ready to date again, please call me?”

  I nod. “I will.”

  “Great. Oh, and congratulations on doing well on your audition. Let me know if you get the part. I’d love to watch you perform.”

  I place my hand on his forearm and give it a slight squeeze. “Thank you.”

  Touching him wasn’t exactly meant to be an invitation, but Shane seizes the opportunity to place a light kiss on my cheek. He bites his lip as he pulls back with a bashful expression. “Congratulations . . . again. I know you’ve landed the part, and I can’t wait to watch you perform on opening night.”

  I blush and tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I’d love for you to be there. It would be nice to have a friendly face in the audience.”

&n
bsp; “Then you can count on it. See you around, Iris,” Shane says before he slips back into the cab.

  I watch with my arms wrapped around me as the cab weaves in and out of traffic, eventually disappearing out of sight.

  Things would be so much easier if I could just talk to Ace. Maybe if I had closure on our relationship, I could move on with a nice guy like Shane.

  ACE

  I clear my throat as the phone rings three times before a familiar voice on the other side of the country answers. “Hello?”

  “Adele, it’s Ace,” I reply, letting her know who it is so she doesn’t instantly hang up on me.

  “Boy . . . where have you been? I thought you were a smart one. Why are you screwing up so bad?”

  I shake my head. In the little time that I got to know Adele, I quickly learned that she isn’t one to beat around the bush, so I’ve learned to be the same way with her in return. “I know, but I’m ready to fix it. I’ve got all my issues sorted now, and I think I’m able to handle seeing her without the media circus following behind me. We need to talk without a million eyes watching us. Will you tell me where to find her?”

  “Psssssh. I shouldn’t tell you, seeing as how Iris went on national television to reach out to you. The girl poured her heart out. You should’ve called her, even if it was to tell her it was over between the two of you.”

  It’s like Adele to just shoot an arrow into the center of my chest, making me feel like the biggest fucking asshole in existence, but I had my reasons. “Iris was the one who told me to leave. She was the one who said that she didn’t want me anymore—that she was afraid of me. Leaving and cutting all contact with her was the wrong thing to do, I know that now. I should’ve stayed. I should’ve made her see that I would do anything to protect her, but I needed to give what happened between us space.”

  “I think she might’ve been worried that you couldn’t control your temper, but you could’ve proved to her that you could. I mean, hell, she fell in love with you, didn’t she? She must’ve seen the caring side of you too, and I’m sure that far outweighs everything else. She told you to leave to protect you. I suppose all she was trying to do was save you from getting discovered. Why didn’t you call her and let her explain all that¸ then you all could’ve worked everything else out?”

  There are so many things I wish I could’ve handled differently. Sometimes I think if I would’ve just stayed put and refused to leave her side, things between us would be so much better right now. I could’ve proved myself to her—made her comfortable with me—but running again has only screwed things up more.

  I jam a hand into my hair and drop my head into my hand as I hold the phone to my ear. “I was scared that she didn’t love me anymore. I wasn’t sure if what she said on television was true or not, and it fucked with my head. At the time I had a lot of shit that I still needed to deal with. I was still running from everything, including Iris, but since the day I left, I’ve done nothing but think of her. It’s been hell without her, but I had to get clearheaded before I was ready to see her. I need to see her—hear what she has to say, even if it’s not the things I want to hear. Over the phone won’t work because I can’t look into her eyes while she answers if she still loves me. I have to be able to see her face in order to know if we can work all this out.”

  Adele sighs into the phone. “And you say you’ve gotten yourself all straightened out now?”

  “Yes,” I answer without any reservation.

  “If I give you her information and you hurt her again, boy, I’ll take my first trip out of this state in thirty years to come to California and whip your butt. So promise me that you’ll do right by her, and I’ll give it to you.”

  “You have nothing to worry about, Adele. I swear to you that I won’t break her heart again if she’ll give me a chance to win it back.”

  “Don’t make me regret this,” she says before she fires off Iris’s address in New York.

  Two days later I find myself sitting in a parked Lincoln Town Car outside the address Adele gave me for Iris in New York. I’m not sure how long I’ve sat here—three hours, maybe—and I’m sure the driver is fed up with my refusal to leave this spot, but I have to see her. It’s been over five weeks since I’ve seen her, and I don’t think I can wait much longer.

  Adele told me Iris had an audition today, so I’ve been camped out here waiting for her to return, watching every single person that’s come or gone into the building.

  The anticipation is killing me.

  Just as I’m ready to lay my head back and give my eyes a break from constant people watching, I spot her.

  I jump out of the car, leaving the door wide open in my haste to get to her, but halt in my tracks when I notice that she’s not getting out of the cab alone.

  My breath catches when my eyes land on Iris standing there, talking with a man in a suit that she obviously knows somehow. They speak intimately, and my pulse throbs under every inch of my skin like I’m about to explode because of seeing her with another man. But my worst fear of Iris no longer wanting me raises its ugly head the moment she lays her hand on his forearm and he leans in and kisses her cheek. My entire fucking world stops as I clutch my chest while my heart crumbles into a million pieces.

  Maybe I am too late. I was a fucking idiot to ever believe that someone as amazing as Iris would be just sitting around pining for me while I got my shit together and ignored her every attempt to reach me. She hasn’t called my number in weeks. I couldn’t bring myself to answer her. I was scared, and that’s a shitty excuse, but I wasn’t sure how much damage I’d done to us by ignoring her the way I did.

  A tear slips down my cheek as I realize it might be best if I just leave her alone.

  She waves good-bye to the man in the cab, and instantly I know without a doubt this man means something to her. Is he her boyfriend? Did he profess his love to her? Does he touch her—caress her? It’s not fucking fair, because that should’ve been me, not that suit-wearing douche bag she was just with. There’s no way he’s as passionate about her as I am.

  I shove my hand into my hair as my shoulders slump and I drop my head. It’s over. I can’t fucking believe it’s over. I’ve been holding on to hope that she was waiting for me even though I’ve been a huge asshole and not reached out. The possibility has weighed on my mind that she might move on if I didn’t come to her someday soon—but I didn’t think she’d be with another guy already. Am I that fucking easy to get over?

  I scrub my hands down my face, wiping away the moisture from my eyes in the process, before I allow myself one last look at her before I go. She’s just as beautiful as I remembered, with her dark hair spilling down her back while her cheeks flush a rosy red. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get over Iris Easton, but it’s clear to me now that I’ll have to find a way to move on, because she clearly has.

  I grip the handle of the door as I slip back into the car and close myself inside.

  “Driver, please head back to JFK Airport,” I order and close my eyes as the car passes her by, but I dare not take another look, because I don’t think my heart can take it.

  IRIS

  A blaring horn on the busy New York street draws my attention the minute Shane’s cab is out of sight. It’s typical to hear drivers expressing road rage all the time in this city, so I’m not sure why I even bother looking, but something else immediately catches my eye.

  There in the middle of the busy sidewalk is Ace, getting into a black town car right outside my apartment door.

  “Ace!” I scream, but there’s too much noise for him to hear me, so I try again. “Ace!”

  I break out into a full sprint toward him, but the door closes and the car pulls away from the curb.

  Why is he leaving? Doesn’t he see that I’m right here, screaming his name, chasing after him—needing him?

  The car slips into the busy street, and I dart through the parked cars just in time to watch it pass me without so much as a tap of the brak
es.

  When the car is out of reach, I stop running and stand in the street. Horns blare all around me as the cabbies curse at me to get out of the way, but I can’t make myself move, knowing the man I love is running away from me yet again. Why would he come here and then leave without seeing me?

  Then it hits me. He did see me . . . and I’m sure he’s thinking the worst about Shane kissing me. It’s not what he thinks.

  My legs wobble as all the anger, sadness, and guilt overwhelm me at once. I need to talk to him and explain. He needs to know that this thing between us isn’t over for me.

  I fish my cell out of my back pocket and dial his number. On the forth ring it goes directly into a voice mail without a greeting. “Ace, I know you saw me. It’s not what you think. Come back. Let’s talk. Let me explain. Call me, please.”

  It’s a long shot to call him, because he’s never answered any of my other calls, but I have to at least try. I need to put the ball back in his court. Now all I can do is continue to wait.

  IRIS

  Ms. Easton?” the male voice on the other end of my cell asks.

  “Yes, this is Iris,” I reply, wondering who the man is, because the voice I don’t recognize at all.

  “This is Mark Talsman. I’m directing Forgiving Lesley, and I would like to have you come back in and read for me. I know you auditioned for Sylvia, but I want you to read for the lead role of Lesley.”

  My mouth drops open and I gasp. It’s been nearly two weeks since I auditioned for that play. I just figured that I didn’t get it, so this call is like a dream. My very first callback from a director, and he’s offering to allow me to read for the starring role on a new Broadway play? What planet is this?

  “Are you there?” Mr. Talsman asks.

  “Yes! Yes, I’m here, and yes, I would love to read for the role of Lesley,” I answer, unable to contain my giddiness.

  He chuckles slightly. “Great. Be back at the theater at ten sharp, and make sure you bring that same moving performance with you.”