He slid his thumb across his phone and turned, startled when he saw me. “Hazel. How long have you been there?”
I swallowed, my jaw tightening. “Long enough. Long enough to know that I’m being traded out for Jenna. Once again, Jenna gets the lead, and Hazel Stone plays a whore.” My voice cracked with emotion, and I hated that I let this get to me. I hated that I let him get my hopes up. That I let Reid almost convince me that this could be real and that I had a legitimate shot at making it in this career.
I saw it in his eyes, in the small sagging at their corners, and the frown that marred his otherwise strikingly beautiful face. It was true. That was exactly what was happening.
“Hazel, that’s not—”
“Tell me something,” I said. “Do you have celebratory sex with all the women you cast as your leads? Is that a pattern you have? Or is it just me…and Professor Faith?”
He winced at the mention of Faith, and I waited for his answer as he sighed. “Who the hell told you that? Jenna?”
I said nothing but held my ground. We’d get to Jenna soon enough. But for now, I had to know if his thing with my previous professor was over or not. If it was a pattern or not. And if I was just one of many he was planning to toss aside.
“Jenna is an asshole,” he hissed and moved to step toward me, but I countered his movement, stepping back and putting a desk in between us. I couldn’t be trusted when he got close to me. One touch, one brush of his fingers against my neck, and I would melt. And I couldn’t melt. Not yet. Not until I had some answers. “Yes… Faith, your professor and I were engaged. She’s the only actress I ever dated while I was her director, but it wasn’t like that. We’d known each other for years. We knew each other when we first moved to New York and neither of us had careers in theater. Hell, we worked as waiters at the same restaurant. Then, when I got my first directing gig, I cast her. Not only because she was a friend but because she was talented. As my career went on to get bigger, I did my best to cast her when the show called for someone like her, and that’s when we started falling in love. Or I thought we fell in love. The rest of the story, you know…Two years ago, she cheated on me with my best friend. Broke off our engagement and married him.”
I swallowed back the tears that filled my eyes, refusing to cry in front of him. I could feel, inside my own chest, the pain, the grief his fiancé’s affair had caused him. “That makes Professor Lewis your best friend, too?”
He nodded, taking a large step toward me. “Ex-best friend. I can’t believe I was ever friends with someone who could do something like he did to you.” As Reid approached, he moved the desk out of the way and closed the space between us. “I didn’t think I ever wanted to be in a relationship again after Faith broke me…and then I met you.”
“You barely know me,” I whispered. “You can’t possibly know that you want to be with me.”
The corners of his mouth twitched upward, and for the first time since I entered his classroom, his frown shifted to something happier. “Oh, I know you. I know you more than you think, Hazel. I know you drink cheap wine because you don’t know or care to know good wine. I know you’re a hard worker. Talented. A force to be reckoned with, but also incredibly vulnerable and afraid to fail. So, you take the emotionally easy path a lot. It’s not the lazy path. In fact, sometimes, it’s the path that actually creates more work in the long run, but you don’t realize it until you’re too far down that road to turn back. I know that you’re kind. And tough as nails. And you eat ramen noodles out of a microwave cup almost every day for lunch because you have to. But you have mac & cheese because you want to—granted, maybe this fact doesn’t count because it’s an obvious one. I know you’ve been waiting for your big break in acting, for life to cut you a little slack, for years.” He lifted his hand and brushed a bit of my hair away from my temple. The point of contact sent a shiver of electricity from his touch down my face and neck, and God help me, I couldn’t help but melt into that touch of his. He leaned in close, brushing his lips against mine in a kiss that was so gentle it almost felt like a breeze brushing over my face. “And I know that you, Hazel Stone, awakened my dormant heart. I know you.”
I pushed onto my toes, kissing him hard, overtaken with emotion and desire. When I pulled back from the kiss, I looked up into his eyes. “But the workshop? Were you really going to give my part to Jenna?”
He leveled me with a look. “Are you kidding me? That was never the plan. I have an idea that I wanted to run by you first. I know that you didn’t want to go forward with talking to Professor Dercy, but I’m not sure Jenna left us much choice.”
“What do you mean?”
He blew out a breath and handed me a package of chocolates like the ones I used in my burlesque act. There was a card on top that I opened. Inside was a picture of me and Reid in the middle of the act when I had pulled him up on stage, and the note scribbled inside was simple: I thought you might need a refill. –Jenna
“Well, shit.”
“She knows everything. She has pictures of you dancing at the club from almost two years ago. She’s been holding on to them, waiting for the right time to use them against you. She threatened to have you fired from your job here, knowing it violated the integrity code. I think she figured that if you didn’t have your job, you couldn’t afford school.”
She’d be correct about that. “And you? She threatened your job here too?”
He waved the thought away. “I’m only here as a favor to Faith. She can report me all she wants. I care about you finishing your degree. I care about all the other people Jenna has pulled this stunt with and how they perhaps missed out on roles and opportunities because of her.”
“Well? What do think we should do?”
He smirked, just one side of his lips tilting toward his eyes. “We’re going to catch a few snakes with only one trap.”
Chapter 18
Hazel
Twenty minutes later, I walked back into the theater with my box of chocolates in hand. I circled it around to my fellow students. “Anyone want a chocolate?” I announced and passed them out to the class.
Several of my classmates came up and grabbed a chocolate. Melanie took one, popped it in her mouth, and sucked the melted chocolate off the pad of her thumb as she asked, “What’s going on? Where’s Professor Bradley?”
I shrugged innocently, grabbing a chocolate truffle. Biting into it, I glanced over at Jenna, who narrowed her gaze onto me as I lowered into a seat in the front row. “He’s coming back in now, I think. He had some sort of a shitstorm to clean up.”
Moments later, Reid entered the theater with Professor Dercy following closely behind him. They both reached the front of the theater and leaned against the proscenium of the stage.
“Morning, everyone,” Reid said with a big smile. His eyes traveled over the students, landing briefly on me. I gave him a wink and sucked the chocolate from one of my fingers before sliding the almost empty box of chocolates into my bag. “Today has been a whirlwind and it’s not even ten a.m.,” he laughed. “I’ve got some good news and bad news. The bad news is that this workshop is being fast-tracked. I have a few producers who are interested in getting it on its feet sooner rather than later. While I initially thought we would have the time to experiment and play with it here in class, we actually need full-time actors who can dedicate four days a week minimum to rehearsals for the workshop.”
He glanced at Ms. Dercy before continuing, and she gave him an encouraging nod. “The good news is, we’re keeping you all as our cast for the professional workshop if you accept the roles.” His eyes found Jenna’s as he added, “Well, almost all of you.” I glanced to my right, where Jenna sat, her mouth puckered into a frown, eyes bright with rage.
Reid’s grin widened as the murmurs of excitement spread through the seats. “We will pay you, of course. You’ll have a contract. It will go toward Equity points if you aren’t yet Equity eligible. If you are unable to accept the workshop role, I understand
, and I won’t hold it against you. In fact, you’ll have an opportunity to audition for me in the future.”
Max, one of my classmates, raised his hand, and Reid pointed to him. “Yes?”
“What happens to our class schedule here if we’re not doing the workshop?”
“Ah, good question,” Ms. Dercy said, stepping forward. “Obviously, Mr. Bradley won’t be able to teach now that his musical is being fast-tracked. But we came up with a pretty good idea, I think. If you remain in his workshop, it will count as class credit. And instead of the workshop for this semester, I will teach this class, and we’re going to work on a showcase that is open to all the students in the program. At the end of the semester, you will each perform in the showcase and Mr. Bradley is going to help us fill the theater with industry professionals—directors, agents, producers, etc.”
Again, chatter and murmurs filled the room as everyone around me grew more and more excited about the potential of the opportunity being given to them.
“Before we move on,” Ms. Dercy said, her gaze sliding to me briefly, “I need to ask a question that I will be asking in all of the classrooms in my department this week. Has anyone here ever been blackmailed by a fellow student—or professor, for that matter?”
I shot my hand into the air, my arm straight and firm, so tight that it nearly ached. Reid lifted his hand in the air as well. I’d told Professor Dercy everything moments ago in her office. I showed her the box of chocolates, the note from Jenna. I told her that I was a burlesque dancer and that Professor Lewis propositioned me sexually in exchange for a better grade—that I didn’t take. Once I’d started talking, it was like I couldn’t stop.
I fully expected her to be mad—to fire me for my part in everything. But her eyes tilted into a sad frown, and instead, Professor Dercy had stood and hugged me, promising me that Professor Lewis would never teach again if she could help it.
Reid and I were frozen in the theater with our hands in the air, waiting. After a few seconds, Melanie lifted her hand hesitantly, keeping her eyes on the floor, and her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. A couple other girls in the class raised their hands as well.
Professor Dercy’s mouth curved into a stern frown, and her cold gaze fell onto Jenna, who seemed to shrink in her seat. “Bullying and blackmail are not acceptable at this school. Not in my program.” Professor Dercy tore her eyes away from Jenna and once more scanned the room. “I will be in my office every day this week during my typical office hours, as well as from three to five. Please, come in and talk to me about your blackmail experience. You will have immunity from whatever was being held against you. Bring any proof you may have. If the perpetrator is a student, they will be expelled from the program and not allowed to be in the showcase.”
“Or in any of my shows, including the workshop,” Reid added.
Professor Dercy gave Reid a handshake and a single nod. “Now, I’ll leave you to finish what’s left of your final class day with Professor Bradley. Next week, I will be taking over, so enjoy the ease he gives you. I guarantee I’m more militant.” Professor Dercy started a slow walk down the center aisle, pausing as she passed me. She grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze. “You’re going to be fabulous in this workshop,” she said, smiling at me. “I can’t wait to see you shine.”
She continued her walk, stopping as she reached the door and called out, “Jenna, I need to see you for a moment.” As Professor Dercy exited the theater, a deflated Jenna followed closely behind her, clutching the straps of her bag.
“Now,” Reid said, “I have one more confession to make. I met one of your classmates before the semester started a couple weeks ago. She and I almost started a relationship and stopped ourselves, then discovered she was one of my students. I assure you, this didn’t affect my casting of the workshop—in fact, it was the writer of the show who had the ultimate say in the cast list. But I feel like I need to disclose our relationship. Because I do plan on having a relationship with her.” His smile grew larger. “I hope a long relationship.” He pushed off the stage, walked over to me, and took my hand, tugging me to my feet.
“That being said, I understand if this makes some of you uncomfortable. For that reason, I will have an assistant director who is also the actor liaison at every workshop rehearsal. If you ever feel I am showing favoritism or being unfair, acting unprofessionally, you can chat with the liaison.”
Reid squeezed my hand, glancing at me from over his shoulder. “Does anyone have questions?” The theater was silent. “Statements?”
“Stones you want to throw?” I added.
Melanie rolled her eyes and leaned forward in her seat. “Oh, for God’s sake, we’ve all known for years how talented Hazel is! She deserves this role…regardless of whether or not you two are a couple.”
A few other students smiled at us, nodding.
Reid was so much taller than me, and as I looked up at him, his eyes seemed to shine back at me. Catching my bottom lip between my teeth, I stifled my big, goofy grin as best as I could as his hand squeezed mine tenderly.
“Go on and kiss her!” Max shouted and Melanie gave a catcall whistle.
Reid laughed and lifted my knuckles to his lips, kissing me gently on the hand. “I’m still technically your professor for another fifteen minutes,” he said. “So that’s as dirty as it’s going to get.” He leaned into my ear, whispering, “For now.”
Chapter 19
Reid
One year later…
It was opening night, the first time outside of the workshop that anyone would see our show on its feet with full costumes and orchestra. We were at a smaller theater in New Jersey—smaller by New York City standards, but it was also well known by producers as an incubator for Broadway.
I’d done this dozens of times. I didn’t know why I still got so fucking nervous before every opening night. I made my way through the stage door, clutching a bouquet of roses. One of the thorns pierced my finger, and I hissed as I pushed my bleeding finger between my lips, nearly dropping the bouquet to the floor. “Fuck,” I grumbled. I got to Hazel’s dressing room and paused outside the door to listen to her singing scales, warming up her voice.
Warmth surged up to my chest from my belly and I paused, leaning against the doorframe, listening to her voice for an extra moment. It was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.
After a year of dating—the last four months of which we had been living together—I didn’t think I’d ever tire of that sound. I smiled as she finished her scale and lightly tapped my knuckles to the edge where the door met the molding.
“Come in,” she said.
I pushed the door open and slid inside, closing it behind me. Her grin widened when she saw me, and she sighed into my embrace, resting her cheek against my chest.
“It’s finally here. Can you believe it? All that work, the workshop, rehearsals, and you finally did it. Opening night,” she said, pulling back in my arms, but I clutched her tighter, careful not to stab her with the thorny roses.
I didn’t know a relationship could be like this—easy. Hazel and I had a comfort and an ease around each other that just fit in a way that Faith and I never did. Hazel and I were passionate, kind, and we made each other laugh daily. That’s not to say we didn’t have our arguments (we did). But unlike when I was with Faith, I never had a sinking feeling in my gut when a fight started. I always knew that, no matter what, we would reach a conclusion, find understanding and forgiveness.
I inhaled Hazel’s sweet lavender-vanilla scent and dropped my forehead to hers. “We did it,” I corrected her. “This show wouldn’t be what it is without you. Without any of the cast and crew, really, but you brought Sister Mary to life.”
She tilted her head to the side and gave me a thoughtful look. “It’s a team effort. But it’s your vision.”
I held up the flowers, offering them to her. “For you. Ignore my blood that’s dripping down the side of the wrapping.” I leaned in, pressing my lips to hers, and her silky ha
ir caught against my stubble as I did so. She hummed in satisfaction against my lips.
She laughed, grabbing my hand first and kissing my cut finger before taking the roses and tearing open the paper cone holding them together. She turned her back to me, arranging the roses in an empty vase on her dressing table. When she sent a quick glance over her shoulder, our eyes connected. I could feel that look of hers slice all the way through me, spilling my heart and soul onto the floor in a puddle at her feet.
I stepped forward, scooping her hair off her shoulder and pressing my hands against the back of her neck, kneading her muscles in firm circles with my thumb.
Her eyes fluttered closed, lashes brushing the tops of her cheeks as she dropped her head back against my chest again and moaned, all the air rushing between her parted scarlet lips. As though my touch made her breathless. God, I hoped it did.
She dropped the roses she had been arranging and they scattered across the table as she turned to face me, curled her arms around my neck, and kissed me hard. Her tongue plunged into my mouth, and fuck me, if she hadn’t already been in costume and full hair and makeup, I would have taken her right here against her lit mirror.
We parted, and this time, I was the breathless one. She panted heavily and reached for something in her makeup bag. It was clutched in her fist and she looked down at her hand, nervously. “I was going to wait until after the show…after the party to talk to you. I know you and Faith were together for a long time before you got engaged. And I know you said that you weren’t even sure if you ever wanted to get engaged again.” She swallowed, pausing, glancing up at me through the threads of her black lashes.
I brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear, my brows creasing. I tapped her hand and asked, “What’s this about?” She dropped her gaze to her hands. There was something in her tone that I’d never heard before. I bent to meet her eyes and grinned at her, loving the way she nervously nibbled her bottom lip. “What we have, Hazel…it’s nothing like what I had with Faith. I would marry you tomorrow if you were ready.”
Directing You Page 13