by Serena Grey
I ignore him. My attention is still on her. She meets my gaze, chin up and shoulders high, and my own words come back to haunt me.
His nineteen-year-old daughter for the lead? For fuck’s sake…It’s a Broadway production, not a kiddie special for Disney junior.
I rise to my feet, still silent. Her eyes dare me to deny that her performance blew me away. That challenge… It reaches into my guts and makes me almost desperate to take back my words. It makes me wish we’d met someplace else, somewhere I wouldn’t have dismissed her without seeing what she could do.
“Congratulations.” My voice fills the silent expectation in the room. She breathes, something like relief causing her body to loosen. I’m still holding her gaze, and I smile, just a little.
She turns away.
Arthur shakes her hand. “Welcome to the team,” I hear him say. Cruz climbs on the stage and goes to shake her hand too. McKay is saying something, but I’m not listening. I’m already leaving. I have work to do, and somehow, remembering the look of challenge in her eyes, I know my work has just got a whole lot harder.
Chapter Five
Liz
“So, you don’t like him anymore?”
“No,” I snort. “He’s a jackass.”
“A hot jackass.” Fiona leers at me from among my pillows. “I’m sure you still want to tear his clothes off. Aidan, oh Aidan!” She mimics my voice and rolls around my bed in mock ecstasy. “I love you. I need you!”
“Not even if he were the last guy on earth,” I retort, annoyed. Fiona is my best friend, but sometimes, like now, she gets on my last nerve.
“If you say so.” She grins. “You showed him though, and I’m proud of you. That was a Pride and Prejudice moment right there. You overhear him talking smack about you, and then you make him eat his words.”
I can’t help snickering at the reference. “In vain I have struggled. This will not do...”
Fiona joins in. “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I love and admire you.”
We both burst into laughter.
“Would be nice if he came back begging on his knees. I’m so sorry for the things I said, Liz. I love you too much to survive without you.”
“Don’t be silly,” I snap, annoyed again. Hearing Fiona describe the unlikely scenario that’s so close to my fantasies is making me feel silly. “Stop infecting me with your overactive imagination. Go write a romance novel, or something.”
Her lips curve. “I will.” It’s all she wants to do—write romance novels like the ones she loves to read. She has the imagination, and if writing chops are hereditary, well, her dad is a successful playwright.
“What will you do now?” she asks, “about school and everything.”
“I’m putting school on hold as soon as rehearsals start.” My drama program was always nothing more than a concession to my father, and I don’t really care about finishing my degree. Experience is the only education I want now. “Dad’s office is taking care of all the business aspects, union membership…all that.”
“Lucky you,” Fiona grins. “I can’t wait for your play to open so I can tell everyone my best friend is a Broadway star.”
“Well, soon you’ll be a bestselling author, and I’ll be the one boasting about you.”
She holds up crossed fingers and I do the same.
“But seriously Liz. Even if he was the last guy on earth?”
I throw a pillow at her head. “Shut up.”
Walking into the theater as part of the cast in a play is a whole different feeling.
“Hey you!” Freddy exclaims from his security desk. “I hear you work here now.”
“I do!”
“About time too.” He hands me a keycard for my dressing room. “You aren’t sharing,” he adds, sounding impressed. He goes through options for delivery, food, and such, and I listen patiently, though I can hardly wait to race into the elevator and go check out the room.
“You’re not gonna need a tour,” he tells me. “You know this place better than the rest of us put together. House manager will probably give you a mini one though.”
“Can’t hurt.” Making for the elevator, I glance at the key, second floor. I blow out a nervous breath as the elevator ascends, then as the doors slide open, I step out and see Aidan Court.
He’s walking out of an office at the end of the corridor. One of the doors closest to him opens and a smiling girl with short fair hair steps out.
“Hey, sweet cheeks.”
“Don’t harass your director, Josie,” Aidan replies with a laugh.
“How about I do you and you do me, so we can call it even.”
He’s still walking and laughing. “Rehearsals starts in half an hour.” He sees me lingering by the elevator and his smile fades as those beautiful blue eyes lock onto my face.
My stomach tightens, and suddenly, it’s no longer easy to breathe.
He’s a jackass.
He’s a jackass.
He said you belong on Disney junior, remember?
“Don’t be late,” he says, still looking at me.
“I don’t plan to be,” I shoot back.
His stride slows and one eyebrow goes up, then he disappears down the narrow stairs a few feet from where I’m standing.
The girl, Josie waves at me as I head down the corridor. I wave back, before finding my room and unlocking it. It’s tiny and clean, with a window that looks out into an alley. There’s a garment rack, a brightly lit dressing mirror with a vanity, a cushioned chair and in one corner, a soft looking sofa. It’s perfect.
There’s a knock on my door, and a moment later, Josie opens it.
“Hi.” She grins. “I’m Josie.”
I return her smile. “Liz.”
“I know.” She looks around. “Nice room. I’m playing one of the students, small speaking part. Understudied Tamsin Richards too.” She grimaces. “Total diva. She couldn’t believe that Aidan didn’t give a fuck that she was Hollywood, or that he didn’t want to fuck her.”
The last thing I need to hear is who Aidan Court chooses or chooses not to have sex with. I already know more than I want to about his taste for lunchtime rendezvous with women whose numbers he doesn’t bother to take.
“That can’t be why she left?” The official story is there was a scheduling conflict.
Josie shrugs, but her eyes are shining with amusement. “I don’t know. Maybe it was moving from the rehearsal space to the actual theater. These tiny rooms probably don’t compare to the luxurious trailers she’s used to. But maybe…it was Aidan not wanting to fuck her. The director should give his star anything she wants, you know. Support her, allow her to be vulnerable with him in private so she can be vulnerable to him on stage, give her everything he’s packing as often as she needs it…”
We both laugh. “Well, he doesn’t need to bother with all that with me.”
“He won’t. Aidan doesn’t sleep with his actresses. Our loss.” She sighs, then brightens. “I can’t wait for you to meet everyone. We have a dressing room upstairs. It’s a big one, can’t miss it. The doors always open. We call it the dorm, because we’re playing students. Come on up after the reading, then you can explain to us why you stole this part from right under our noses.”
Yikes! “I…um.” I’m stammering.
She bursts into laughter. “I’m kidding. You don’t need to explain anything. Aidan wasn’t going to offer the part to any of us anyway, or he’d have stood up to your dad. You don’t need to apologize. Jeez. You’re gonna have decades of people crediting your father’s position for your success. Never apologize and never explain or you’ll be doing it for the rest of your life.”
“I…Okay.”
She grins again. “See you downstairs.”
Later, I make my way down to the stage. I have a week to catch up on rehearsals before we move on to tech. It will be a lot of work, but I’m not scared. On the stage, there’s a new backdrop and a few more installations to house the scener
y for the play. Aidan is seated alone on one side, while across the aisle, the cast members are scattered over a few rows.
I stop myself from looking in Aidan’s direction and take an empty seat next to Arthur Bain. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aidan rise to his feet. There’s something beautiful about the way he moves, lithe and easy. He heads to the front and when he’s just below the stage, he turns back to face us. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he looks like he’s deep in thought.
I wonder if he’ll introduce me to the rest of the cast.
“In a few months, people will pay a lot of money to be in these seats.” His eyes land on me. “We’d better make sure we give them something worth their money.”
That’s it. No introduction. No welcome speech.
We go through my scenes from the top. Cruz, the friendly guy with the locs, catches me up on blocking, while Aidan remains at his seat, a copy of the play on his lap. He doesn’t turn the pages, and he doesn’t look up even once.
Is he even paying attention?
I try to stop stealing glances at him, to focus only on my lines, but my eyes are constantly drawn to where he’s seated.
God, I hate him.
Finally, after a few hours of non-stop work, there’s a break.
“Hey Liz.” A tall, dark guy with short coily hair and liquid brown eyes is stretching his hand toward me. He’s playing my love interest and well, he looks like a love interest. “I’m Kyle.”
“Kyle Weathers, I know. I’ve seen your work.”
He looks genuinely flattered. “That’s gratifying. Welcome to the team.”
“Thanks.” My eyes slide back in Aidan’s direction. He’s already leaving. Kyle follows my gaze.
“Don’t worry about him. He can be very focused, but you’ll love working with him.”
I give Kyle a look that says how much I doubt it. “Even when he hardly says more than two words?”
Kyle laughs. “Oh, he says a lot when he feels like it. Looking forward to working with you, Liz McKay.”
“Looking forward to working with you too, Kyle Weathers.”
He slings a brown saddlebag over his shoulder and heads out. One by one, I meet most of the other people in the cast. There’s Kate, an older, veteran actress, Letty, Sarah, who makes a snide comment about actresses getting roles because of their connections, Lea and Dean who are a couple, and Ben, a sweet midwestern transplant with a hoop earring that makes him look like a pirate.
There are a lot of other interesting people in the cast besides Aidan Court, I tell myself. There’s absolutely no reason to fixate on him, especially now that I know what an asshole he is.
I linger in the auditorium as it empties, silently listing all my reasons for disliking Aidan.
He mocked me before he even met me.
He didn’t even bother to apologize.
A technical team enters the stage and starts to work. I watch for a few moments as they discuss lights and sound direction. Only mildly interested, I pick up my things and head for the door at the side of the stage.
Just as I reach it, it opens, and I almost walk flush into Aidan’s wide chest.
My heart jumps and starts to race. My face heats. I have to stop running into him like this. It does things to me, things I don’t want to think about.
He doesn’t move, and neither do I. His eyes are such a brilliant blue up close that looking into them makes me feel hypnotized.
Snap out of it, Liz.
With an effort, I tear my gaze away from his. “Excuse me.” My lips are pursed and disapproving, my face blank and free of all the screaming chemical reactions raging inside me.
He frowns, and his eyes skip to my lips, then back to my eyes.
“Liz.” He says my name as if he’s testing the sound on his lips. His pouty, sensual lips. I force my breaths to remain steady. “How are you settling in?”
The question surprises me. There’s no way he cares if I’m settling in or drowning in eruptions of sewer water.
“Okay,” I reply, giving him a tight smile. “Though I think Disney junior has bigger dressing rooms and more snacks.”
He looks taken aback, then he chuckles. “I’m sure they do,” he agrees, stepping away from the door and holding it open for me.
I take one step, then turn back to face him. Reminding him of how he’d insulted me should have made him apologetic, not amused. I’m not a freaking comedian. “Aren’t you going to apologize?”
“For what?” His amusement is still there. “Was I supposed to be excited about auditioning you?”
I almost stamp my foot. “You didn’t have to be rude about it.”
“I wasn’t rude. You were eavesdropping.”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping.”
His eyes drift over my face and rest on my lips again. My heart kicks. When his eyes lift to mine there’s something impatient in their depths.
“Look. This argument has no purpose. You got the part. I don’t see that I have anything to apologize for, and I can’t hold this door forever.”
I brace my hand on the door and glare at him. “I can hold my own fucking door.”
He raises an eyebrow, then shrugs and releases the door. “Nice talk, Liz,” he says, before striding into the auditorium. I hear him talking to the technical crew on the stage and from the tone of his voice, it’s clear that he has already forgotten all about me.
God, I hate him!
With every inch of my heart.
Chapter Six
Aidan
Arguing with an inexperienced actress while wondering what her lips taste like. Check.
Feeling my dick harden every time I hear her fucking voice. Check.
I don’t need anyone to tell me the whole situation is a recipe for disaster.
After only a few days of working with her, my awareness of her has skyrocketed to a point where I’m constantly looking at her, watching for her, listening for the sound of her voice.
It has got to stop.
Now rehearsing with Kyle, she’s in the middle of the stage, dressed in black tights and a burgundy sweater, paired with ballet flats. I watch them go through the scene, and when it ends, I type a quick note on my tablet.
Her laughter stills my fingers. My eyes jerk to the stage. Kyle is saying something to her, and her entire body is shaking with amusement.
How can she have such a deep throaty laugh that chases everything from my mind except lingering kisses and drawn-out pleasure?
Her gaze sweeps toward me and she catches me staring. With a disdainful scowl, she turns back to Kyle.
It’s like the very sight of my face annoys her.
Obviously, she’s still hung up on the Disney junior remark and my refusal to apologize.
Well, good for her. She’ll hear a lot worse and have to grow a strong spine if she plans to last long in this industry.
She laughs again, and my eyes go back to the stage. What the fuck is so funny?
“Kyle!” The name comes out like a growl, and Kyle turns a startled glance toward me.
Fuck! I am jealous.
I explain a few changes I want in the scene, then turn back to my notes. Why do I care if Kyle flirts with her all day? It’s none of my business. I hear her voice and find myself staring at her face again.
Stop it Aidan. You will never taste those lips.
You will stop thinking about her as anything other than an actress on your play.
An annoying one at that.
I will stop thinking about her.
The scene ends, and I push up from my seat. “Good. We’re done for today.”
Kyle grins at me. “Sure, boss.”
I can feel Liz’s eyes on me as I walk away. I can feel her like she’s actually touching me.
Taking a deep breath, I quicken my pace. I just needed to control my thoughts about her until the play opens and my involvement becomes minimal.
Easy.
Right?
As soon as I enter my office
, I hear my phone vibrating from inside the desk drawer. I take one look at the screen and take the call.
“Sup.”
“I take it you’re in rehearsals.” My brother Landon’s measured voice fills my ear. He sounds concerned, which isn’t new. He’s only five years older but has been looking out for me since our mother died when I was four.
He’s also almost totally uninvolved in theater, except as an occasional investor. So, it’s easy to vent to him.
“You have no idea,” I complain. “I have to work with this Broadway princess whose dad is producing the play.” My mind fills with an image of Liz’s face and I scowl. “If she wasn’t so talented, I’d fire her and tell her dad to go to hell.”
Landon sounds amused. “If she’s so talented, what is the problem?”
“Where do I start?” Her attitude? Her barely concealed dislike? To be fair, that was because she’d heard me dismissing her, but I’m not planning to tell Landon that. “Forget about all that,” I say instead. I haven’t seen him since his birthday a week ago. “What’s up?”
He tells me about his work, just the interesting parts. Landon manages the Swanson Court hotels that have been in our family for decades. He has big visions for the chain, and sometimes, he shares them with me, even though I have no real interest in the minutiae of luxury accommodation.
I listen to support him, just as he always supported me in my career.
“I need to know more about the girl you sent over to my apartment,” he says after a few minutes.
We’d been talking about the progress of work in the new San Francisco hotel, and I don’t follow the change of topic.
“What girl?”
“On my birthday,” he clarifies. “The hooker.”
I try to remember, genuinely puzzled. My experiences with women are rich and varied and include a few enjoyable adventures with women who’d turned out to be escorts. It’s not something I ever planned to make a habit, though I respect how clear the terms are, and how they never expect anything afterwards.
I’d offered to get Landon an escort on his birthday. It was a joke, and he’d turned me down. I had since forgotten about it.