The Man Most Likely

by Cindi Myers

  WHEN TANYA had been hired as director of the Mountain Theatre, she’d proposed an ambitious program of six productions a year. The board and theater group members had responded enthusiastically, but the reality of this plan was that as soon as one production closed, it was time to choose, cast and rehearse the next one.

  Thus, on a Thursday two weeks after the last performance of I Hate Hamlet, the Mountain Theatre members met at the Cabaret to begin work on their next performance. “I’ve decided we should stage a production of The Red Lady’s Revenge,” Tanya said as she handed scripts around the table. “It was the winner in a local playwriting competition, and first prize was a production by a local theater company—which would be us.”

  “I see there are parts for four women and three men,” Austin said, flipping through the script.

  “It’s a comic mystery with a poignant twist at the end,” Tanya said. “Lots of fun to perform, and the audience will love it. I think it will really show off the talents of this group.”

  “I suppose you’ll play Roxanne, the Red Lady,” Alex said. “She’s described here as the sultry owner of the hotel where most of the action takes place.” He grinned. “That sounds like you.”

  “Angela would be perfect for the part of the town busybody,” Daisy said. “That character has some of the best comic lines. Angela could steal the show with a part like that.”

  “That character does have some good lines,” Angela said, paging through the script. She turned to the description of the character. “Marcia is a forty-something, thrice-divorced, chain-smoking bottle blonde with plus-size hips and a super-size mouth. For most of the play, she wears a Hawaiian print muu-muu.” She made a face. “Why is it always a muu-muu? I’ve never known a woman in real life who wore one, but half the fat women who’ve appeared onstage have worn muumuus.”

  “It’s an iconic thing,” Austin said. “Like detectives in fedoras and villains in westerns in black hats. A kind of visual shorthand to alert the audience to the character’s nature.”

  “I thought that was the actor’s job.” Angela closed the script. “Sure, I can play her. But can we please do better than a muu-muu?” Since being with Bryan, she wanted more than ever to be as beautiful and elegant as he made her feel. The thought of appearing onstage in a muu-muu, no matter how comic the role, grated.

  “Actually, I wanted Angela to play the part of Roxanne,” Tanya said. “That role has some really good lines, too.”

  “You want me to play the female lead?” Angela stared at the director, while murmurs went around the table.

  “You’re perfect for the role,” Tanya said. “You’ve got the sensuality the part calls for, and you’ll be the ideal foil for the leading male character, Steve. He’s a handsome, vain hustler for whom everything has always come easy. He almost can’t believe it when he’s brought to his knees by this woman, who’s unlike anyone he’s ever met before.”

  “That sounds like the perfect part for you,” Angela protested.

  “Who’s going to play Steve?” Austin asked.

  “I thought we’d hold open auditions for the part,” Tanya said. “Though I hope you’ll audition as well. I want to find someone with the right chemistry with Roxanne.”

  Austin frowned at Angela. She decided if people really did have visible thought bubbles, Austin’s would have said, What good-looking guy is going to have chemistry with her?

  She wondered if Bryan had ever considered acting. The two of them definitely had chemistry. They’d spent the night together again last night, though he’d had to leave early to be at the hotel by seven. And she was seeing him tomorrow. She was looking forward to spending the whole night in his arms, then indulging in morning sex, then a leisurely breakfast, then maybe more sex—

  “Angela, did you hear me?”

  “What?” She flushed and tried to look interested in whatever Tanya had said.

  “I want you to take the script home and prepare to audition for the part of Roxanne. We’ll have open auditions as well, for all the parts. Paulette, you’re in charge of costuming. Chad, you handle the sets. Remember, we’re going for an Old West feel here, something that draws on Crested Butte’s history as a mining town. Get together with whoever you need and come up with some plans for me to look at. Any questions?”

  There were none, so the meeting adjourned. Angela caught up with Tanya near the exit doors. “Why aren’t you going to play the part of Roxanne?” she asked. “That femme fatale type is your specialty.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to star in every production,” Tanya said. “Besides, I really believe you’d be better for this part. You can convey the combination of brashness and vulnerability the role requires.”

  “You can convey that, too,” Angela said. “And you actually look like a sultry, sensuous woman with a mysterious past.”

  “Sultry and sensuous are not synonyms for skinny,” Tanya said. “If anything, it takes a woman with curves to play a role like that. Think Marilyn Monroe, not Calista Flockhart. Besides—” she nudged Angela with her elbow “—I’ll bet Bryan thinks you’re pretty sultry and sensuous.”

  Heat rushed to Angela’s cheeks. “What makes you say that?”

  “I saw his car parked in front of your house Sunday evening and last night. And I heard through the grapevine it was there until very early in the morning.”

  “Don’t people in this town have anything better to do than to keep track of who parks where?” Angela asked, her face still flaming.

  Tanya laughed. “Nobody means anything by it. It’s impossible not to notice stuff like that in a community this small. Think of it like a big family—people here look out for each other.” She leaned closer, her tone confidential. “So…is he as good as his reputation?”

  Angela couldn’t suppress a grin. “Better.”

  They collapsed against each other, laughing. Tanya hugged her friend. “I’m happy for you both,” she said. “I hope he knows how lucky he is.”

  “Sometimes I want to pinch myself,” Angela said. “It just seems too good to be true.” Her expression sobered. “But it’s early days yet. Anything could happen.”

  “I hope only good things happen,” Tanya said. “Now go home and study that script. You’re going to make a great Red Lady.”

  “Maybe so.” After all, if she could end up with one of the best-looking men in town as her lover, leading lady in her own romantic drama, why not assume a starring role onstage as well?

  FRIDAY EVENING, Bryan showed up at Angela’s bearing pizza and a six-pack of beer. “The single man’s idea of a feast,” he said. “I’d invite you over to my place, too, but it’s a room in a house with five other people, so it’s not exactly private.”

  “Pizza is fine, and I like having you over here,” she said, taking the beer from him and leading the way into the dining room.

  As soon as she’d set the six-pack on the table, he pulled her into his arms. “I had a hard time keeping my mind on my work this afternoon,” he said. “I kept thinking about you.”

  “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again, too,” she said. They kissed for a long time, and he debated suggesting they skip dinner altogether, but his stomach growled and the aroma of pepperoni reminded him he had skipped lunch. He reluctantly pulled out of her arms. “I think the pizza’s getting cold.”

  He opened the beer while she set out plates and napkins, then they sat down to eat. “I’ve got some good news,” he said, sliding a slice of pizza onto his plate.

  “Me, too,” she said. “You first.”

  “Our float won first place in the business category of the parade,” he said. “I even got an attaboy from Carl.”

  “Good for you. I guess it wasn’t too risqué after all.”

  “There’s more. Apparently, there’s an annual dinner at the country club where all the local hotel managers and inn owners get together and talk shop. Carl asked me to come with him.”

  “That’s great. Maybe y
ou’ll be able to talk to some of the owners of smaller inns and pick up some ideas for your place.”

  He grinned. “That’s another thing I love about you—we think alike.” He used the word love casually, testing the waters. Her cheeks flushed a little pinker, but she looked pleased. “Carl said I could bring a date,” he added. “I was hoping I could talk you into going with me. It’s next Thursday at seven.”

  “To the country club? I hear the food’s really good there.”

  “So the only thing you care about is a fancy meal?”

  “I’m obviously a woman who enjoys her food.” She laughed at his look of mock hurt. “Of course, I’d love to go with you.”

  “Great.” He took a long drink of beer and studied her. She had a spot of pizza sauce on her chin. He leaned forward and kissed it away. “What’s your good news?”

  “The community theater group met last night. We’re going to stage a new play and Tanya’s asked me to try out for the lead.”

  “That’s terrific,” he said. “What’s the part?”

  “It’s a new play, set in Crested Butte. The lead is named Roxanne, known as the Red Lady. She’s described as a sultry, sensuous woman with a mysterious past.”

  “You’ll be perfect, you sultry, sensuous, mystery woman you.”

  “There’s nothing mysterious about me,” she protested.

  “No. The only mystery is that you haven’t had a starring role before. Not as gorgeous, sexy and talented as you are.” He emphasized each adjective with a kiss, shoving the pizza box aside to pull her closer.

  He was considering clearing the table completely and suggesting they make love on top of it when she drew back. “You’re certainly in a good mood tonight,” she said.

  He grinned. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me. Or maybe it’s the beast.” He leaned forward, but she fended him off again.

  “Let’s slow down and talk a little bit,” she said. “I really can’t think straight when you’re kissing me that way.”

  “What do you want to think about?” he asked. He hoped she wasn’t having doubts about them again.

  She sat back and sipped her beer, studying him. “This is a little ironic, considering we’re already sleeping together, but we should get to know each other better. I mean, I know you came here from Texas when you finished college, but I don’t know anything about your family. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “I have one older sister. She’s married with two children—boys. My mom and dad own a sports bar in Dallas. What about you?”

  “My parents are divorced. My dad is married to his third wife and lives in Houston. My mom is still single and is in Broomfield, where she works as a real estate agent. I’m an only child.”

  “And you moved here from Broomfield,” he said.

  “That’s right. Three years ago.”

  “Because a friend told you about the place, so you came here and fell in love. I remember.”

  An emotion he couldn’t read flashed across her face. “That isn’t exactly the whole story,” she said.

  He scooted his chair closer to hers. “Tell me.”

  She nodded. “I want to tell you. It’ll help you understand some things about me. But first, I need another beer.”

  He opened a fresh beer for each of them, then sat beside her.

  “I belonged to the community theater in Broomfield,” she began. “There was a man in the group—Troy. There’s a guy like him in every theater company, I guess—the really handsome guy who always plays the leading man. He was the kind of guy who always had women following after him and all his girlfriends looked like models. But he wasn’t vain about his looks, and everybody liked him.”

  Bryan shifted in his chair. She could have been describing him, except for the acting part. “Were you involved with this guy?” he asked.

  “I’m getting to that.” She took a long drink of beer. “I was in a play with Troy. I played the role of the hero’s nutty sister who helps him win the heart of the girl he loves. Troy, of course, was the hero. We spent a lot of time together, learning our lines and hanging out. One thing led to another, and—”

  “I get the idea,” he said, his stomach twisting with jealousy.

  “It wasn’t just sex,” she said. “At least not for me.” Her lower lip trembled, and he had to grip the edge of the chair to keep from pulling her to him. He wanted to tell her he didn’t need to hear the rest. Whatever had happened between her and that loser didn’t matter to the two of them. But he could see that she needed to get this off her chest, so he made himself sit still and listen.

  “I fell in love with him,” she said. “And I believed him when he said he loved me. Even though I wasn’t the type of woman he usually dated, I thought that didn’t matter, that we could make it work.”

  She fell silent. Bryan waited. He knew there had to be more. Obviously, this guy had hurt her. “What happened?” he prompted.

  She took a shaky breath. “He asked me to marry him. I said yes. I couldn’t believe it. I was going to marry this gorgeous, popular, fun guy, who said he loved me. I thought everything was perfect.

  “We both agreed we didn’t want a big, fancy wedding,” she continued. “He bought me a ring and we decided to get married at the courthouse, then go away for a weekend honeymoon. He was already working on another play—a drama I didn’t have a part in—and he needed to get back for rehearsals.”

  “You were engaged?” Bryan tried to wrap his mind around this idea. Angela had intended to marry another man?

  She nodded. “The day of the wedding came. I had a girlfriend who was going to be one of the witnesses, so she and I drove to the courthouse together, where Troy and I had agreed to meet. We got there early and didn’t think anything of it when he wasn’t waiting for us. He had a habit of being late. Even when it was time for the ceremony and he hadn’t shown up, I wasn’t too worried. I knew he’d get there.

  “But then it got to be ten minutes after. Fifteen minutes after. I called his cell phone, but he didn’t answer. The judge and my friend were staring at me. When it got to be half an hour after, the judge said we’d have to reschedule and my friend and I left the courthouse. We were walking to the parking lot and I was trying not to cry when my phone rang. It was Troy. He apologized for not calling before, but said he couldn’t go through with the wedding. He realized he didn’t really love me, he’d just been caught up in the excitement of the play and the moment. The two of us weren’t right for each other and he knew I’d understand, and all of that.” She squeezed her eyes shut, but not before two tears slipped down her cheeks.

  Bryan pulled her close, rocking her in his arms. “I’d do anything to take away that hurt,” he murmured, stroking her hair.

  She nodded. “I know.” She sniffed and straightened to look at him. “You see now why I was so hesitant to get involved with you. In some ways, the two of you have a lot in common.”

  “You’re wrong,” he said. “I’d never treat you—or any woman—that way. I really do love you, Angela.” His voice caught. He’d never said those words to a woman before, but he’d never meant any words more. “That isn’t a line to get you in bed, or something blurted in the heat of the moment. I’ve never felt this way about any other woman.”

  “I believe you.” Her smile was shaky, but her voice was firm. “But it’s hard to trust my own feelings, sometimes. I saw Troy while I was in Broomfield last week.”

  “Oh?”

  “He introduced me to his fiancée—a size-two platinum blonde who probably models lingerie in her spare time.”

  The pain in her voice made Bryan want to hunt down the jerk and pound him. “He sounds like a walking cliché.”

  “Yeah, well, he wouldn’t be the first guy to prefer gorgeous women.”

  “Come here.” He stood, pulling her with him, then led her into the bedroom, where he undressed her slowly, kissing each inch of exposed flesh, savoring the beautiful package he unwrapped. “I wish you coul
d see yourself the way I see you,” he said. “Then you’d know how beautiful you really are.”

  “You make me feel beautiful,” she said, helping him out of his shirt and pants. “Beautiful and sexy, and the luckiest woman in the world.” She pulled him down the bed beside her. “Can you stay with me all night tonight?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He kissed the top of her shoulder. “I’m going to stay and make love to you all night, and in the morning when we wake, I’ll start all over again.”

  “Then we’d better get started,” she said, and leaned over to dim the light.

  Chapter Twelve

  Angela awoke the next morning half-afraid the events of the night before had been a dream. She lay still for a long moment, eyes tightly shut, recalling the intensity with which she and Bryan had made love, as if determined to draw as much pleasure as possible from each moment together. Surely the strength of their physical attraction had to be due to more than hormones or pheromones or some other scientific phenomena. Was it possible they felt this way because they were meant to be together? Because they really and truly were in love?

  She opened her eyes and studied him as he slept beside her. Thick, dark lashes fringed his eyelids, while the dark shadow along his firm jaw erased any suggestion of femininity. She studied his lips and remembered how tenderly they’d kissed her, how he’d touched her as if marveling at the feel and shape of her.

  When Troy had made love to her, he’d never really looked at her. Self-conscious of her body, she’d been grateful for his inattention, content to hide under the cover of darkness, or to take advantage of the camouflage of blankets or clothes. With Bryan, sex was so different—more open and honest, but more challenging, too. The daring, free woman she wanted to be continually clashed with all her old insecurities about her body. She didn’t like to look at herself in the mirror, so she had a hard time believing anyone else would enjoy the sight of her nakedness.

  She scolded herself for even thinking of Troy with Bryan beside her, but her former fiancé had been on her mind since she’d seen him. She’d spent so many years nursing the hurt and anger of his betrayal, but now she could see he’d done her a favor. What if they had married? What if she’d ended up legally bound to a man with whom she had so little in common—a man who might always be secretly ashamed of her? What misery to be locked in a union with little hope of true happiness.