by Maggie Riley
A small trickle of guilt crept down my spine when I thought of how, despite the success of the show, I was still planning to look for a Broadway stage manager position when it was done. I wasn’t going to stick around. That this job, like whatever was happening with Shane, was temporary. That it had always been temporary.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy both for now, right?
Chapter 21
SHANE
That night there was a soft knock at the workshop door. I had been totally lost in my work, and when I checked my watch to see what time it was, I was surprised to see it was after midnight. It had been a good, productive day of work—apparently a night of amazing sex was great for concentration. Opening up the door, I was pleased to find the participant of said-amazing sex standing outside, her nose and cheeks red from the cold, making her look like an alluring, adorable gnome.
“Hey.” I held the door for her, taking her coat when she got inside the warm workshop. “How was the show tonight?”
“Good,” Allie said, but her eyes wouldn’t meet mine.
Immediately I could sense there was something different about her. She was standing stiffly, her arms wrapped around her upper body, and seemed to be keeping a good distance between the two of us.
“Something wrong?” I asked, hanging her coat up.
“What is this?” she asked bluntly, turning around to face me, her hand reaching out for one of my projects as if to steady herself.
“Well, that’s a rocking chair,” I teased, knowing it wasn’t what she was actually asking.
She gave me a look.
Leaning back, I crossed my arms, and looked right back.
Allie sighed. “You know what I’m talking about.” She frowned. “This. Us.” She pointed to herself and then back at me. “What is this?”
“Two people who enjoy each other’s company?” I responded.
“Casually, right?” she asked.
I felt a weird twist in my chest, which didn’t make sense, because of course this was casual. How could it be anything but? We barely knew each other, and even though we lived in the same apartment we barely saw each other. It seemed likely that whenever Allie found a new place, this thing between us would end as abruptly as it began.
There came that odd feeling again. An ache. I ignored it. And I also ignored the fleeting, unbidden wish that it would take Allie a good long time to find a new place.
Allie was still looking at me, still waiting for an answer. Stepping towards her, I put my hands on her hips, pulling her close to me.
“Casual,” I reassured her. “Just two people casually enjoying each other’s company.”
I could feel her relax, and she put a hand on my chest. It wasn’t to push me away, and I put my own hand over it.
“Any chance you feel like casually enjoying each other’s company now?” I asked, bending down to press an open-mouthed kiss to her throat.
I felt the hand on my chest flex, grabbing my shirt, keeping me from pulling back. Taking the hint, I kissed her neck again, this time taking a tiny, gentle bite. Allie moaned and wiggled against me. I liked that. The wiggling.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I murmured in her ear, my hand sliding down to cup her ass. “And I’ll show you exactly how casual I can be.”
ALLIE
I felt good. Really, really good. So good that I was pretty sure I had blacked out at some point from how good I felt. But right now I was wide awake, my chest heaving, my body covered in a sheen of sweat.
Shane was flat on his back next to me, breathing heavily, an enormous grin on his face.
“Glad we worked that out,” he said, rolling onto his side. “Any other problems you’d like to sort out while we’re here?”
I poked him in his extremely well-defined chest. “Don’t be a smart ass.”
“But you like my smart ass,” he pointed out, getting up and walking to the bathroom.
He was right. I did like his smart ass. I definitely liked looking at it. A lot.
I was propped up on one arm when he came back and had wrapped the sheet around my torso. He leaned towards me and gave it a tug. I held tight.
“You know I’ve already seen everything under there,” he reminded me.
I blushed, remembering exactly how up close and personal he had gotten with quite a few of those parts now hidden under the blanket.
“I just don’t feel the need to lie around naked,” I told him, not caring that I sounded a little bit uptight.
“Or walk around a theatre naked?” he teased.
I sat up and stared at him, surprised.
“How do you know about that?”
Shane grinned. “Reagan told me. And let me tell you,” he placed a hand on his chest. “Every time I imagine it—and I imagine it often—I imagine you naked as well.”
I threw a pillow at him. “It wasn’t funny,” I told him.
“Oh, it’s very funny,” he said, tossing the pillow back and climbing onto the bed. “In fact it’s the best mental image I’ve had all year.” He leaned back against the wall, his hands folded behind his head. “God bless the theatre.”
He laughed when I scowled at him.
“Oh come on,” he teased. “It’s just nudity.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Nudity’s no big deal?”
“Nope.”
I bit back a smile. “So, it wouldn’t matter who was naked in rehearsal.”
“Nope.” Shane waved his hand. “Whatever needs to be done to get the best performances, I’m all for.”
I sat up. “Well, I’m glad you think that because Megan was visiting the other day and she was very interested in Reagan’s style of rehearsing.”
Shane went pale, and I laughed.
“That’s not funny,” he told me.
“Oh, it’s very funny,” I echoed his earlier words. “Don’t be such a hypocrite.”
“That’s my little sister you’re talking about,” he warned.
“She’s a grown woman,” I reminded him.
“Stop it.” He covered his ears with his hands.
“She’s been naked before—” I teased, stopping when he put his hand over my mouth.
“Do you really want to talk about my sister right now?” he asked, leaning in, his blue eyes blazing. “When we could talk—or not talk—about something else. Something much more . . . interesting.”
The humor in his gaze had been replaced with something much more intoxicating.
“Because I’d much rather discuss something else.” He dropped a kiss on my naked shoulder and pulled away the sheet before going lower. I arched into his touch. “Or maybe we shouldn’t even talk at all.” His mouth found my breast, and I was more than happy to accept the change in conversation.
Chapter 22
ALLIE
Preview week went by in a blur. Everyone seemed to be getting more and more comfortable in their roles, and by the time we got to our final performance before opening night, it felt like we were running a well-oiled machine.
Which was good, because Reagan was a goddamn mess waiting for the reviews to come out. No matter how many times I reminded her how many standing ovations we had gotten, or how many compliments had been overheard in the lobby afterwards, she was convinced that it was going to be panned in the trades.
“Weird,” she told me as we walked towards a prospective apartment that Joanna’s realtor had found for me. “They’re going to call it weird.”
“But Reagan.” I faced her, putting my hands on her shoulders. “It is weird. That’s the whole point. You wanted to do The Iceman Cometh with puppets. If they didn’t call it weird, that would be weird.”
“They’re going to think it’s too weird,” she argued, chewing on her nails.
“Well, people love weird,” I reminded her. “If they say it’s weird enough, it will probably sell even more tickets.”
She didn’t look convinced. I tried a different tactic.
“The show is selling well.�
�� I had spoken to Joanna that morning and she had been cheered by the uptick in sales. We weren’t anywhere near sold out, but we weren’t embarrassing ourselves either. “That’s a great sign for the show and for the theatre.”
“I just want it to be good,” Reagan said in a small voice.
“It is good,” I told her, even though I knew she wouldn’t believe anyone but the reviewers. I crossed my fingers and hoped that they saw the same thing I did.
Reagan waved her hands in front of her face, as if to ward away the bad thoughts, and turned to me with a smile. It was only a little forced.
“Let’s talk about something else,” she suggested, almost desperately.
“OK. I have high hopes for this apartment,” I said, pulling out the information the realtor had sent me. It was a good location, near subway stops and restaurants. It was a one-bedroom that was reasonably priced and was on the top floor of an older but well-cared for building.
“OK, great,” Reagan said dismissively before turning to me. “But what about Shane?”
I blinked at her. “What about Shane?”
“How are things between the two of you?”
I sighed. “Reagan. It’s casual. I told you that.”
She pouted. “I know. It’s just . . .” She pushed her hair back. “Well, there is absolutely no romance in my life, so I need to live vicariously through someone.”
“What Shane and I have isn’t romance,” I reminded her. “It’s just sex.”
Amazing, amazing sex.
I couldn’t deny that I was going to miss that when I moved out. There was something really nice about coming home after a performance to a hot guy who was more than happy to make me come on a regular basis.
The snuggling afterwards wasn’t so bad either.
I caught Reagan looking at me with a knowing stare.
“What?” I demanded.
“Just sex, mmhmm,” she said with a little smile. “Keep telling yourself that.”
SHANE
When I found out that Megan didn’t get the part in the fall play, I took her out to lunch. It was the only consolation prize I could think of, but when she arrived at the restaurant, she didn’t seem as devastated as I feared. In fact, she looked happy. And she gave me a hug when she saw me.
“OK.” I sat down, staring at her. “Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”
“Ha, ha,” she said, putting her napkin on her lap. “You’re hilarious. Have you considered a career in stand-up?”
“No, but seriously, what is going on with you?” I took a long look. “Did you get something pierced that you weren’t supposed to? Did you break the law?” I swallowed hard. “Oh god, do you have a boyfriend?” I was absolutely not ready for her to start dating.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she told me. “I’m just glad to see you.”
“You told me on the phone that you hadn’t gotten the part in the play,” I reminded her. “So excuse me for being surprised when you stroll in here like you just got the best news.”
“That’s because I did get the best news,” she was positively beaming.
“You know you can’t date until you’re thirty,” I said, and she rolled her eyes.
“That’s not going to work on me. I’m definitely old enough to date,” she informed me. “But don’t worry, Shane, this isn’t about a boy.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “OK, so what is it?”
Megan leaned back in her chair. “I’m dropping out of the theatre program.”
My jaw dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”
She held up her hand. “I’m not dropping out of school,” she said quickly, and my heart starting beating again. “I’m just not majoring in theatre anymore.”
I frowned. “But I thought you wanted to be an actress?”
“I did,” said Megan. “But then I spent time with Allie and the actresses in her play and I realized that being an actor is hard. And not hard in a way I’m excited about.”
“OK,” I was still barely following the conversation but I nodded as if I was.
“I actually took Allie’s advice and made a list.”
“A list,” I repeated.
Megan nodded. “I made a list of everything I like and don’t like about acting. And there wasn’t a lot I liked and a whole lot I didn’t like.” She began ticking things off on her fingers. “I don’t like memorizing lines, or reading acting theory books, or even being on stage. In fact, it scares the pants off me.”
“All good reasons not to be an actor,” I agreed. “So the list worked. But what are you going to do now?”
Megan threw up her hands. “I don’t know!” she said. “And all thanks to Allie! Isn’t that great?”
“Uh, no?” I thought of all the money that was going into her college education, wondering if I needed to throttle Allie for leading impressionable young women astray. “Don’t you need to have a major?”
“Not yet,” she said. “I’m a freshman, remember? You didn’t even pick your major until the end of your junior year.”
She was right. And my major had been in art history. Not really something I used on a regular basis. I told myself to relax and focus on my sister. And how happy she was. Because she really did look happy. Maybe I didn’t need to throttle Allie at all. Maybe I needed to thank her. Slowly and intimately.
“Well, I’m proud of you,” I told her, doing my best to push away inappropriate lunch thoughts away.
“Thanks.” She smiled at me, a smile that made me a little nervous. “Now that we’re done talking about me, let’s talk about you.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t want to talk about how my furniture sales are going?”
Thankfully, before she could say anything, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but my number was on my website—it could be a client.
“Is this Shane Garrett?” a woman on the other end asked.
“It is.” I ignored Megan who stuck her tongue out at me. “How can I help you?”
“I got your contact information off of an application that a Ms. Allison Lawson submitted to us. She’s interested in an apartment we’re leasing, and she has you listed as a reference.”
“Oh.” I felt my chest squeeze. I should have known this this would be coming, that Allie was looking for a place, but for some reason it caught me completely off guard. At least that was the excuse I gave myself when I ended up saying, my voice tight, “I don’t know if she’d be a good fit.”
“Oh.” The woman sounded surprised. “Well, thank you for telling us. And thank you for your time.”
“No problem,” I told her, hanging up.
Megan gave me a strange look.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Nothing.” I picked up my menu and pretended to focus my attention on it. “What looks good here? Pesto? Ravioli?”
Across the table, Megan crossed her arms. “Did you just tell some landlady that Allie wouldn’t be a good tenant?” When I blinked at her, she gestured to her ear. “Your phone is really loud, bro. I could hear everything.”
Shit.
“Look, it’s not what you think—” I started, but paused when a huge smile appeared on Megan’s face. “What?”
“I knew it!” she crowed, pumping her fist in the air. “You like her. You really, really like her. This is fantastic.”
“Calm down, Sally Field.” I put my hand out. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
She gave me a look. “Either you don’t want her to find another apartment because you like her, or you don’t want her to find an apartment because you’re a jerk. Which one is it?”
It was very possible the two weren’t mutually exclusive. Staring down at my phone, I debated calling that woman back and telling her that I had been mistaken and Allie was a great tenant. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
Across the table, Megan was still beaming at me.
“Stop it,” I told her. “It�
��s complicated.”
“Yeah, no duh,” she said, reaching across the table and patting my hand. “They grow up so fast,” she teased.
I threw a bread roll at her.
ALLIE
The morning of opening night, I pulled up Skype to talk to Josh and Emily, but instead was greeted by my entire family—my parents, my sisters, their husbands, and all their kids. It was a wonderful, overwhelming wall of smiling faces.
“Hi Allie!” they all said in unison. “Surprise!”
“Wow,” I laughed. “What a great surprise. What’s the occasion?”
“It’s opening night, isn’t it?” asked Josh.
Unbidden, I felt my eyes get a little misty. Josh had always been good about calling before opening night when I stage managed shows in college, but when I went on tour and opening nights were a regular, and uneventful, occurrence, he had fallen out of practice. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until this very moment.
“We wanted to wish you good—” Emily shouted, but was cut off by Josh whispering something in her ear. “We wanted you to break your legs!” she amended, much to the amusement of everyone.
“Thank you, Emmy-bean,” I told her. “And thank you, all of you, for calling.”
“We’re so proud of you,” my eldest sister said, holding her youngest kid.
“Even if you’re still in New York,” my dad added, but it only dulled my happiness for a tiny second.
I really did love my family, and it was so nice to see all of them. The holidays were coming up, and I had been trying to decide if I was going to plan a trip home. The show would be over at that point, but so far, every interaction I’d had with them had been so full of guilt trips and stress that I wasn’t looking forward to spending Christmas feeling that way. But at the sight of all of them, I was starting to reconsider.
Until my mom spoke.
“The job at the local theatre is still available,” she piped in, pushing through the crowd of kids gathered in front of the computer. “They said they’d be happy to wait until this show was done. They’d even be willing to pay you overtime.”