by Staci Hart
“But you’re still friends. So there’s hope for Lily and me.”
“There’s always hope. That’s what keeps you going.”
I nodded. “How the fuck am I going to ever go to sleep?”
But Tricky only laughed. “This will help,” he said as he raised his glass, and we drained them together, pouring another without hesitation.
SCHEMES
Lily
I SIPPED MY COFFEE THE next morning with my eyes out of focus, staring in the general direction of the kitchen cabinets. I’d barely slept after the opera, tweaked out and unable to make any sense of the end of the evening.
I’d almost kissed West.
Embarrassment washed over me again at the memory. I didn’t know what had come over me — if it was just latent emotion from the opera or some mental sabotage connected with Blane. The opera had just been so overwhelming, not only because of the performance, but because of West. When he showed up in that suit and looked at me like … I don’t even know what. That look hit me in a way I couldn’t sort out. All night long, I kept catching myself falling into him, into his eyes, into his words.
I didn’t know what was the matter with me. When he touched my arm in the hallway and I looked up at him, I hadn’t wanted anything else in the world but for him to kiss me, and the feeling didn’t leave me. I lay in bed half the night staring at my ceiling, contemplating getting out of bed to go over there. If I’d have thought of anything to say, I probably would have. But I didn’t know what I even wanted from him. Besides his lips.
The thought was so upsetting. Here I was again, wanting something I shouldn’t. Maybe I only wanted things I couldn’t have, things that were impossible. Mental masochism.
I felt like an ass for putting West in the position to have to deal with my crazy. He was my best friend. I tried to make sense of it all, find some reason that would explain why I’d lost my mind. I mean, everything was coming to a head. The pressure of Swan Lake. The mess that was my relationship with Blane and the backlash of Nadia. I told myself I was just overwhelmed. Stressed.
Everything with West had to be a byproduct of that.
I smiled to myself, feeling relieved. Almost kissing West was just wine and stress and the comfort of a familiar face. West wasn’t interested in me like that, and I was with Blane — sort of.
Blane was trying, he really was, from sweet texts to the flowers. I was still determined to give it one last shot because I couldn’t take that kind of regret to the grave. I’d be an old lady in a nursing home, lamenting over canasta about ‘what if’ and doodling his name on the edge of my bingo card. So, if Blane was going to try, then so would I.
Third time’s a charm.
I pictured us all dressed up, arm in arm, and my stomach fluttered. VIP with Cooper was always fun, if not a little overwhelming. To live the life of the rich and famous for a few hours was a thrill, but I was glad I got to walk away from it at the end of the night. I couldn’t imagine living like that all the time, with everyone in your business, people trying to take advantage of you, cameras following you around. Even being remotely connected to that life through Astrid was enough for me. It was part of the reason why Cooper and Astrid were closed off to newcomers, and outside of our little group, stuck to others in their social circle.
I took another sip of my coffee and checked the time. My day was packed — rehearsal all day and a show that night. Luckily Serenade was short, and we were performing first. There would be plenty of time to get back here and get ready before we left. My hot-ass dress and a glass of gin would be waiting for me to prep for a night that had the potential to be one for the books.
Self-made magic. I was all about it. Maybe tonight would be the night that Blane would actually give it to me in the bedroom, because if he played his cards right, I’d let him. I wanted it given to me so badly, I could almost taste it — the sweet, sweet taste of satisfaction.
I smiled to myself and turned my attention back to my book. Everyone was still asleep, which wasn’t a surprise. I loved weekend mornings, those few hours where the world was still quiet, the day full of possibility, just me, a cup of coffee, a book, and the golden, early morning sunshine. That right there is happiness.
Rose’s door opened, and she stumbled out, a mess of hair and legs as she headed for the bathroom, swearing under her breath when she bumped into the doorframe. My brow quirked, wondering why she was awake. I hadn’t expected to see her until I came home from the show.
When she reappeared a second later, she looked more together by only a degree. Her hair was a little less drunk lion and a little more tipsy llama. She mumbled to herself as she wandered into her room briefly, coming back to the living room with jeans on and her combat boots in hand.
“Where are you going, Sleeping Beauty?”
“Breakfast.” The word was a curse if I’d ever heard one.
I eyed her. “With who?”
“Tricky.” She sat on the couch and pulled on her boot.
My eyebrow jacked, and I smiled at her. “Oh?”
“Don’t oh me,” Rose huffed. “It’s nothing.”
“It must be something if it’s got you up before ten.” I gave her a look and took a sip of my coffee.
She shoved her other foot into her boot. “I’m not equipped to talk about it without coffee.”
“There’s some in the pot.”
“No time.” She grabbed her purse and keys and headed for the door.
“Well, take a nap when you get home because I need you on your game. Blane Baker is happening tonight!”
Rose pulled on her jacket and shook her head, her voice gruff. “You sound awfully excited about it.”
“Well, this is the last shot, and I’m feeling really good about it. I’m getting on the bicycle one more time, and I have a feeling it’s going to be the smoothest ride yet.”
“I’m just saying. I expected a little more skepticism.”
“I’m not walking into it blind, and I’ll admit that the whole thing has made me a little crazy.”
Rose snorted.
I perked up, not letting her get to me. “But today’s a new day, and I have a feeling it’s going to be a good one. I even got a Brazilian yesterday, just in case.”
It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. “Hot wax to the lady bits for Blane Baker? He’d better appreciate that.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. Full and complete lady cave commemoration.”
She laughed and opened the door. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Bye, then,” I said, only slightly wounded when she shut the door without responding or asking me to join her, but my smile crept back again. Rose would rather wax her own cooch than get up at eight in the morning.
Wuss.
West
I shredded the paper napkin, dropping the strips in a pile on the diner table as Patrick and I waited for Rose in silence. Genie’s was our favorite diner, a chain of only three that started in Hell’s Kitchen, and they made the best malts I’d ever had. This one was on Broadway, just down the block from our apartment, and we were there nearly as much as Habits.
Patrick and I had spent the night drinking until we passed out. Lily’s name was on my lips when I drifted away, and her face filled my thoughts the second I woke. I checked my phone that morning to find texts to Rose, all vague, in part for all the typos. It was a pretty weak cloak and dagger operation. I only asked her to meet us at the diner at eight and to not tell Lily I would be there. She told me to kindly go to hell. So I told her, very simply, that it was important and that I needed her help. She couldn’t say no to that.
My coffee sat in front of me untouched. I’d realized as soon as I’d ordered it that the last thing my nerves needed was caffeine.
Patrick sat across from me, back against the window ledge, watching me with concern. “It’s going to work out.”
I sighed. “I’m sure, one way or another.”
The bell on the door rang, and we turned toward
the sound to find Rose walking in. She looked tired and definitely annoyed, though somehow still together. A little scary, but together. I couldn’t help but smile. Patrick looked like he’d been slapped.
Her eyes were narrowed as she slid into the booth next to Patrick. The waitress appeared out of nowhere and opened her mouth to speak.
Rose didn’t even acknowledge her, just grumbled, “Coffee.”
The waitress rolled her eyes and walked away.
“This better be good, you shits. This is the face of four hours of sleep. Take a good look, because if you see this again, it might mean you’re at the threshold of hell.”
Patrick turned in the booth and leaned on the table, gesturing to me. “Go ahead, Romeo.”
Somehow, Rose’s eyes narrowed even more as she stared me down.
I leaned on the table and took a deep breath, knowing there was only one way to say it. I met her gaze. “I think I’m in love with Lily.”
Her eyes flew open. “You what?”
I nodded. “I realized it last night at the opera.”
She dragged a hand through her dark hair and pulled in a breath, blowing it out through her nose. “What happened?”
“Nothing. Everything. It hit me when I came to pick her up, but I think it had been coming for days. Maybe longer.”
Rose gaped at me. “I can’t believe you realized this right now. Bad timing, West.”
“I know. Trust me, I know.”
She leaned back and folded her arms. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know how to handle this, Rose. I need your help.”
Something in my voice must have reached her because her face softened. “If you had asked me yesterday, I would have told you to go over there right now to talk to her about it. But I just left her singing her high hopes about Blane and tonight.”
My eyes were on my coffee as I struggled with what to say.
The waitress brought Rose her coffee. “Thank you,” she said, relieved and smiling, and the waitress seemed placated, smiling back with a nod. “If you tell her right now, she’s going to flip out, and she’s got rehearsal all day and a show tonight. Can you wait to talk to her about all of this until tomorrow night? Noir will be behind us, and she’ll have all day off work on Monday to process.”
“It’s going to be hard to get through tonight with the two of them, but if it’s what I have to do, then I’ll do it.”
Rose reached for the sugar and poured it in with a brief hiss. She picked up her spoon. “Honestly, I’m kind of hoping Blane just lets his bro show so Lily will finally write him off for good. Here’s the thing — she thinks she cares about him, and I think he’s throwing off her radar by pretending to give a shit. He’s trying to hang on to her for some reason, but I don’t know what his angle is. Maybe he doesn’t have one.” Rose sighed and picked up her cup. “The whole thing is fucked up. What I do know is that if you talk to her right now, she’s not going to know what to say. If you wait until Blane blows over, your chances will be better.” She took a sip of her coffee.
“So you think I should tell her?”
Rose nodded. “I definitely think you should tell her.”
“That’s what Patrick said too.”
Patrick looked pleased with himself.
“Well, he’s right. You may only have one decent shot at this, but you shouldn’t take it until she’s ready.”
“I’m putting all my hope in Blane making a fool out of himself. What if he’s not a douchelord tonight? What if she really ends up falling for him? What if I miss the chance all together?”
She reached for my hand. “Listen, you’re not going to miss anything. There’s too much going on right now to drop this on her too. Things will slow down, and even if she’s still seeing Blane, that doesn’t mean you can’t tell her how you feel. For now, I just think you need to wait and see.”
My voice was thick. “How can I pretend?”
“You don’t have to put yourself through tonight. Just stay home. You can talk to her tomorrow night.”
I shook my head. “I have to go. I need to go.”
She nodded. “Then you need to pretend, just for a night.”
My only other question burned in my throat — the same one that had plagued me since I’d realized how I felt. “Do you think I have a chance?”
Rose smiled. “Oh, I definitely think you have a chance.”
The relief was palpable, hope that I needed to fortify my willpower. “Thank you, Rose.”
“You’re welcome. Now feed me bacon, Weston, before shit gets real.”
Lily
The crowd roared as I bowed again, barely able to see the faces beyond the stage lights. It was a feeling that we all lived for — standing on the stage, listening to the thunderous applause for all of your hard work. That high was the cherry on the sundae, the reward for the pain, the grueling rehearsals, the stress and sacrifice. None of it mattered in that moment.
We made our way off stage, and I hurried to my bag, stuffing everything in unceremoniously. The crew bustled behind me, but I barely noticed, just grabbed my flats and tossed them on the ground with a smack, reaching for my ankle to untie my shoes, then the other. I was an absolute whirl — in a hurry to get to my changing room so I could get home.
Jenni walked up, stopping next to me at her own bag, grinning. “God, I love Serenade. I think it might be my favorite.”
I laughed and stuffed my shoes in the bag. “You say that about every show.”
“Ugh, I know. Congrats, by the way — your Waltz Girl was perfect tonight. Just perfect.”
“Thank you,” I beamed as I stood and picked up my bag.
Her smiled faded, brow dropping as she leaned toward me. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you, Lil—”
Anxiety blew through me at the thought of being delayed even for a second. Everyone was waiting on me to get home, and I still had a million things to do. “Can we talk tomorrow? I’m so sorry, it’s just that I have plans tonight, and everyone’s waiting on me.”
She smiled, but she was definitely disappointed, and there was something else there … guilt? I was curious, but I couldn’t linger.
“Of course. We’ll talk tomorrow for sure.”
“You’re the best. I’m sorry to run.” I leaned over and kissed her cheek before slipping out between the chairs. “Love your face, Jen.”
“You too.” She still had the smile on, but it was tight. I wondered what she needed, figuring it couldn’t have been too terribly important, or she’d insist that we talk.
I still had to get dressed, turn my costume in, get home, shower, fix my hair, do my makeup, get dressed — my head spun around, and I started trucking toward the stairs. Dancers and crew were everywhere, and Bastian caught my eye from across the room. He flagged his hand, looking more serious than usual, but I just waved and took off, wondering what in the world everyone needed to talk to me about tonight, of all nights.
CAVEMAN SAYS "UG"
Lily
MY DRESS WAS TOO SHORT and my heels were too high, but I couldn’t even find it in my heart to care what anybody thought about it.
It was ten-thirty, and Maggie, Rose, and I had spent the last hour drinking gin — okay, I’d had one, which was my finite limit for the night — and doing our hair and makeup. Rose lined her lips with a deep red in the mirror, with the big, shaggy hair and smokey cat-eye going on while somehow looking like she didn’t put in any effort. Maggie sipped her drink and messed with her necklaces, looking sweet in a loose sleeveless dress that was nearly as short as mine, with nude heels and natural makeup.
I felt tricked out by comparison — hair curled, lips hot pink, kohl liner, and a cobalt blue dress that made my boobs look amazing. Not like I had a ton to work with, but man. That dress. I gave my goodies a squeeze as I looked in the mirror, and Rose laughed.
“Don’t laugh. These are my magical tickets to the land of O.”
Maggie burst out laughing.
I gi
ggled, still checking them out, wiggling my hips to the disco house bumping from Rose’s portable speaker. “I’m serious. Blane cannot refuse me in this dress.”
Rose picked up her lipstick and popped off the cap. “No man in their right mind would. Or woman, either.”
“Aww, well, if you’d do me, then I’ve already won, Rosie.”
I was feeling heady from the gin and the long day of dancing, still zinging from the adrenaline from the performance. I was shiny and fresh and ready. Tomorrow was going to suck, but I swore to myself that after tonight, it was on. I had two weeks to get my body ready for Swan Lake. But tonight, it was all or nothing.
Something was going to change. I could feel it.
I checked my phone for the fifth time. “Blane should be here any minute.” I stepped out of the tiny bathroom and stood in the hallway with my hands on my hips. “How do I look?”
Maggie leaned to peer around Rose. “Bangable.”
“Your legs are ridiculous,” Rose sighed.
“Nailed it.” I smiled and headed into the living room, humming along to Rose’s music as I gathered my things and put them in my clutch. ID, lipstick, tiny mirror, credit card, cash, phone, and condoms. What? No way was I leaving the apartment unprepared for The Blane. I was so prepared for The Blane, it was almost creepy. Almost.
Someone knocked on the door, and my heart skipped. I took a deep breath, smoothing my skirt as I walked over and pulled it open.
Blane stood in the hallway looking dead fucking sexy. My eyes roamed up his body — tailored shirt and gray coat, pants that hugged that luscious ass of his. A chill ran down my back when my gaze came to rest on his smile as he looked down at me with bright eyes.
“Hey, Lil,” he said as he gave me a sweet kiss on the lips, and my knees almost gave out.
“Hey.” I laid a hand on his rock-solid chest and grinned up at him.