She was loath to admit, but hated auto pay, because it seriously limited how she could juggle and play with her funds. Her brother-in-law kept insisting that she did not, in fact, have an emergency show fund. When she got married, Peter felt safe turning things back over to her. What he didn’t know was that Roby hadn’t gotten any better. It was just that Kyle was very anal about that sort of thing, so every time they came home, they were assured heat, hot water, and cable.
Thinking back, she realized his reliability was the reason she acquiesced and married Kyle. It certainly wasn’t their toe-curling passion or her heart-palpitating love for him. She did love him, but it was never the kind that love songs were written about. He was average looking (good looking, but no Idris Elba), sweet enough, and with her limited experience, she supposed the sex was good. Too bad she didn’t have much to compare him to. There were a few guys in college, but each was so terrible, she became convinced that rushing into sex without love and commitment was why it sucked. Vowing celibacy until she took marriage vows was supposed to be her penance. So either he was as good as he thought, or she truly did have a too-limited knowledge base.
Kyle was quiet, steady, organized, and willing to take it all on. Roby often teased and called him her designated grown-up in the relationship. Still, their entire relationship only got a grade C. It was all just average. Robyn had thought she was finally going to get her strong dominant man who would come in and take care of her the way she’d always craved. It just never happened. He held a position of authority at work. The problem was it never carried over at home. No matter how she tried to push him, and even when she’d made a specific request that he take her in hand, all he did was balk. He made it clear that he wasn’t going to play at bossing her around, just so she could resent him for it later. He didn’t get it, and Roby stopped trying to explain. She never asked again after he thoroughly shut her down, making her feel like a freak for the suggestion.
When he did feel provoked to put his foot down, Kyle wouldn’t give in. He refused to engage at all. Door slamming, object tossing, cursing that would shame a sailor, and taking off in his truck were Roby classics when she felt out of control, angry, or frustrated. Their unspoken constant conflict was that Roby spent eighty-five percent of her time in charge out of the house, too, and she didn’t want to be forced to do it at home. At home she needed to feel handled. She wanted to know things were taken care of without having to make a request. When she got wound too tight, she could have a world-class meltdown. Her Grams and Merry had become pros at dealing with the behavior. Kyle had not.
His response to her boiling over temper was, I’m not going to talk to you when you’re like this. He’d just take care of whatever had set her off, and then shut her out until his mood and her temper about the situation passed. It used to remind her of the way her college roommate and she would handle disagreements, minus the ultra polite post-it notes with various demands. In her heart, though, she knew it was no way to maintain a marriage.
Unfortunately, when things escalated to the Mount Vesuvius level in your marriage, you couldn’t go into the university housing office and request a new roommate. Marriage was forever, and Robyn had been determined not to fail.
It was a relationship that should have had tremendous potential. They had everything in common on paper. Music, careers, hobbies, movies, and even taste in food gave them a plethora of things to talk about. The future they discussed, when things were good, should have been ideal and secure. Kyle and Roby had both wanted children when they first started dating. The problem was after her first year of marriage, Roby changed her mind. Not wanting to strain the marriage more, she used focusing on her career as the excuse to put off trying. Joining committees and even chairing some, her schedule stayed busy. She refused to bring a child into a situation she considered toxic until she figured out a way to fix it. Of course, before the lying cheat got busted screwing one of his teachers, Roby had never even considered divorce. She’d lived first hand the damage inflicted by folks who were willing to walk away. It wasn’t perfect, but she had taken vows. How could she do anything less than be devoted to keeping them? If he’d done anything but cheat, Roby would have stuck it out. In the end, he did them both a favor, but she wouldn’t be sending him a thank you card just yet.
Looking up and rubbing her eyes, Roby shook off the past one more time. She had polished up her theatre résumé, planning to send out as many as she could. For tonight, her focus would be on making her bed, ordering in Chinese food, and solving crimes with her favorite detectives, the cast of CSI. Box set DVDs and a laptop made for a great cable substitution. That was one bill she wouldn’t have to worry about anymore. Roby had made a list of things she absolutely couldn’t cut out of her life and the expenses she could ditch. Cable was one of the first to go. Hopefully, her show schedule would be heavy enough that she’d be out of the house ninety percent of the time between rehearsals and performances.
Chapter Three
Light seeped through the tightly closed but too sheer curtains in her bedroom. Ugh. Why couldn’t the sun have a dimmer switch? She had contemplated going for the room darkening shades, but then thought not knowing when the sun had risen would disorient her. There was a real love-hate relationship going on between her and the sun. The leftover scent of blackberries lingered above her from the candles that had died out long ago. Rolling over made her yelp from the rib poke her new bedmate gave her, another byproduct of falling asleep with your laptop. Roby tried to shake off the fog. It was definitely her bed. Her yummy soft, purple, indulgent eight hundred thread count Egyptian cotton sheets feeling cool against her skin reminded her of that. Leaving the windows open had been a fantastic idea.
The rain the night before had finally brought the early summer high Arizona temperature down. The problem was that the bed was in another location. Right. She wasn’t in her sister’s guest bedroom anymore. She wasn’t in her house anymore, either. It had been six months, but it always took a couple of seconds to shift her brain to the fact that she was divorced. Waking up alone was again the norm. With some deep breaths, Robyn reminded herself that she was exactly where she wanted to be, and opened her eyes to greet the day. As she padded from her bedroom to the bathroom, she wished she’d kept on her socks. She’d been spoiled with wall-to-wall carpet.
Gritting her teeth, she shook off the past and decided to embrace the Arizona rarity of hardwood floors. Alone was not lonely, and Roby was committed to embracing this solitude. She saw it as a time to renew herself for the next adventure. It was her pause in time. At least that’s what her Grams used to say. Anytime she would get pouty about not getting what she wanted the second she wanted it, her Grams would say, “Now, little miss, you just relax. This is just a pause in time. I bet there’s somethin’ even better waitin’ just ’round the corner.”
There was comfort in that pause and the expectation that good would come from it. Finishing her business and washing her hands, Roby smoothed on a thick, green avocado mask to ensure she didn’t look tired when she met her mentor. He wouldn’t hesitate to point it out and interrogate her.
Crap, crap, crap. Where was her bloody cell phone? Toothpaste ran down the side of her chin as she did a quick sloppy rinse-spit, in a hurry to answer before it went to voicemail. Great. It wasn’t by the bed. Maybe she had plugged it in. Ah, the kitchen. Running through the room, she jumped a box, then cussed as she stubbed her toe on the landing.
“Shit! Yes, um, sorry, hello. Sean, how are you? I thought you and Jerry were out of town for the next few days. Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, but sure, I can move our meeting up. Today? This morning. Okay, what’s the urgency? Yes, of course I’m still looking for work, but you said you didn’t think you’d have a show for me until the new season. Well, I’m always a little suspicious. I thought this guy was bringing his own team. Professionals, I believe you called them. Hey, don’t call me that. Besides, I’m not being a brat. Yet. He just sounds like he might be a prick. Yeah, y
eah. I know it sounds awful coming from my mouth. But you’re not here. Oh, right. Sorry. Look I’ve kind of had my fill of that type this year. If he doesn’t think your staff and designers are good enough, then why is he even coming here? Fine, yes, I’ll wait until I get there for all the details.”
A breath before the line was cut, Robyn added, “Tata! Thanks for looking out for me.”
Sean Haight and his partner Jerry had been fixtures in the Phoenix theatre scene dating back to their days as professors at the university. Reputations could be built or destroyed on the word of Sean Haight, and years ago he’d taken a liking to Roby. She was the only student he had that took all of his classes without being a theatre major. He became her advisor, mentor, and sometime boss when he and Jerry started their own theatre, and she stage-managed for them. Even though he was tremendously disappointed when she walked away from it all for domestic bliss and stability, he stayed silent regarding how wrong her future hubby was for her. It had been his hope that someday she’d figure it out on her own and find her way back to the stage.
While making a feeble attempt at examining her now achy toe, Roby did a mental check of her wardrobe. What could she get into quickly that would require the least amount of prep time? Ironing didn’t make her top ten list of fun chores. Breakfast meetings for theatre people were virtually unheard of, which meant only one thing—if he had Sean hopping this early in the morning, then Joseph James Davis was going to be a challenge to say the least.
Time to get your game face on girl, she thought wiping the dried white paste from her face with the back of her hand and smearing the other green goop in the process. Ugh, the day had to get better.
Chapter Four
There were many times she thought back to that first meeting. If she had to title it, she would’ve named it Warning Bells and Whistles!
***
“Seriously, I can’t believe you’re still doing this to me, Sean. What, did you tell me fifteen or thirty minutes earlier than the actual meeting time? I’m not chronically late anymore. Honestly, most days I’m so happy to be up and out that I’m rushing ahead and not running behind.”
“Darling, you were fifteen minutes late,” Sean said as he stood to embrace his favorite girl and pull out her chair.
“For me that’s practically a half an hour early.” She threw her head back in a laugh, only to have it brought up sharply at the response from a voice clearly not belonging to the older gentleman.
“That had better be a serious exaggeration, or we’re going to have big problems. Of course, by we, I only mean you.”
The man did have a presence.
“Ah, Joseph. Looking good my friend,” said Sean. “Come, come have a seat, and I’ll get you fixed up with something that has a little bite.”
“As long as it’s not you,” the gargantuan man said, full of humor, as he embraced the older gentleman.
They both started talking and laughing as they were seated. The conversation kept up at rapid pace until the waitress returned with their drinks. Not being able to stand it anymore, Roby cleared her throat with a tone of at least mild irritation. Who was this meeting for, anyway? She understood the need to catch up, but it was starting to feel like deliberate ignoring, and she wasn’t a fan of being put on a shelf.
When they turned to look at her, she gave as good a glare back. “Finally! So, you notice I’m still here. You must be Joe.”
Giving her a terse look of acknowledgement, he stated as a mere fact, “It’s Joseph.”
“All right. I didn’t think this was formal, but I can go with that. I’m Robyn Renée Rose.”
“A name which she detests, as it’s often only used when she’s in less than right circumstances.”
Sean was being far more familiar about her than she cared for.
“Everyone calls her Roby,” Sean insisted.
It was the twinkling in his eyes that gave her pause.
Brunch came, and the men gave her unending grief about the bird feeder meal she was having. There was little dainty about her size, and since hating exercise was up there with hating liver, Roby watched, or tried to, what she put into her mouth. She protested that she didn’t need a sleep inducing, gut busting meal so early in the day. Even so, Joe hacked off a quarter of his steak and set it on top of her salad, letting her know that, while working for him, she would need to keep up her strength. All she kept thinking was, when did she accept the job?
“… banker’s hours, and neither will you.”
Damn. She must have drifted off after half a cow was dropped onto her salad. Banker’s hour—
“This isn’t my first gig, and I know all about hard work and long hours,” she said.
After that, she ate in relative silence, focused on the conversation that pertained to the show and keeping the scowl off her face. She and Sean were going to have a serious talk. When the waiter retrieved their plates, Sean declined coffee and was out of his seat and beside her in seconds. He reached for her arm and gently pulled her up into an embrace.
“I’m off to meet Jerry. I’m leaving you in good hands, kid.”
Kissing her temple, he turned and was off. He chuckled, throwing a kiss over his shoulder at her before leaving them to get to know one another. She had no idea the journey she was about to take.
Joseph gestured to the chair, and Roby slid back into it, thinking that Sean was playing puppet master again. This wasn’t an interview so much as a meet and greet. The part of her that needed a job wanted to hug his neck, and the part that was suspicious wanted to wring it. When she checked back in, Joseph was again in mid-sentence. She was going to need to work on focusing much better around the man.
The problem was—well, it wasn’t really a problem—the man was so much more than average. Standing at six foot plus (she was guessing at least three to five inches) even sitting down, she had to look up at him a little. Never having dated outside of her race, it wasn’t because she didn’t find other men attractive. It was simply about opportunities, but he was way beyond attractive and his wrapping paper didn’t matter to her one bit. He was movie star stunning. He had dark hair that was cut low, a tan he had to work on, living in New York, and blues eyes that were practically navy. His hands looked large enough to wrap around her arm without stretching a digit. Even dressed semi-casual, Roby could tell he was working with a superior body. The collared shirt, with sleeves rolled up displaying powerful forearms, seemed to drape his body like a custom fit. Her guess was that being hugged by him would feel like being swallowed whole.
“Roby! The meeting?”
Damn it! She’d done it again.
***
She barreled into the conference room for the production meeting a mere seven minutes late, having overslept again. The man didn’t give her rest, even when he wasn’t around. Tossing and turning for hours on end became the norm each night when she got home from rehearsals. Doing reports, notes, and sending out updates did nothing to tire her out. For that matter, two glasses of wine each night hadn’t worked in weeks, either. The man was under her skin, for sure.
Why he insisted the weekly production meetings happen at ten am was beyond her. It was the summer, and no one on the team had a day job, but she’d learned really quickly that protesting greatly was the best way to never get what she wanted. Joseph James did not suffer whining. Even when she did it in what she considered a playful manner, he shut it down.
“Sorry I’m late, everyone. Let’s get started.”
Roby was always cheerful and pleasant, but the way everyone sort of refused eye contact and only mumbled responses made her feel more than awkward and definitely left out. It felt like she’d just busted the cool kids gossiping about her.
“We have started, precisely seven and a half minutes ago, when the meeting was scheduled.”
Slipping into the only chair left, Roby prayed her cheeks weren’t flaming as much on the outside as they were on the inside. Sure, she was a few minutes late, but his pointing it ou
t wasn’t necessary, and clearly made everyone in the room uncomfortable. For the rest of the hour, Roby simply took notes. As everyone filed out, she lagged behind, packing up her computer and binder. Not noticing his backtrack, she started at his voice as she went to put on her sunglasses and dig out her car keys.
“My office now!”
It wasn’t really a yell, but more of a growl. No matter what category she put it into, she knew to get in step with him as he moved toward his office.
Roby let her mind drift, mostly thinking back to that first meeting again, when she figured out that this wouldn’t be the guy she could wrap around her little finger. She could feel her job was in jeopardy and that she was looking at the possibility of unemployment once again. Being great at her job might not be enough this time. He’d lit into her more than two, and possibly six, other times, and this time she thought he really might fire her. If his uncharacteristic public snark was a clue, this might be her last chance. Her sisters joked that she’d be late to her own wedding (she was) and funeral, and even when she tried her hardest, some days she could not pull off getting anywhere on time, no matter the time of day. Mornings, however, were definitely her worst.
Opening the door, Joseph stepped aside for his tardy stage manager and closed the door after she entered, not saying a word to her before departing. It felt like he was gone forever. She knew he was probably trying to cool off or thinking of new ways to drum into her why being punctual was so important. She really did understand, at least in theory. Her body just didn’t cooperate when her bed felt so good.
Taking the Stage Page 2