by Nicola Marsh
‘Fuck this,’ the kid yelled, jabbing at the bag so furiously the chain holding it bucked and rattled like a cut snake.
Still, Hudson didn’t say anything, but when the kid reluctantly met his eyes, he saw every ounce of pent-up rage and sorrow and frustration he’d once harboured.
‘Want a drink?’ Hudson pulled another water bottle from his bag and held it out.
It didn’t surprise him when the kid scowled and slouched off, skulking towards the door as if he couldn’t wait to get away.
He hadn’t wanted to accept help back then either. Had done his damnedest to keep people at bay. Because letting anyone get close had meant opening up about his home life and divulging secrets he hadn’t wanted to reveal.
Mak had been the only person he’d allowed a small glimpse into his life. He’d trusted her, even back then. Having her back in his life had been a godsend.
Ensuring it would be all the harder when she left him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THREE NIGHTS LATER, Mak was no closer to figuring out what to do about her relationship with Hudson. Though considering the lack of quality time they’d spent together over the last seventy-two hours, maybe they didn’t even have a relationship.
For some inexplicable reason, she got the feeling he’d been avoiding her.
Usually after rehearsal she’d head to his place and they’d spend the night having wild monkey sex before sleeping curled in each other’s arms. But the last three nights he’d cited work at the club that would keep him busy until the wee small hours. A perfectly reasonable explanation given he’d spent fewer hours at the club during the evenings because of her but his distinct lack of concern irked.
It was like he didn’t miss her at all, when all she could think about, apart from the Grober audition tomorrow, was him.
She’d pretended his cool behaviour didn’t bother her. Had been the epitome of a woman fine with a casual relationship. But he’d taken it a step further tonight when he’d yelled at her for a minor slip-up during rehearsal, and she knew she had to confront him.
Something was bugging him and she needed to find out before it ruined her concentration at the most important audition of her life.
She waited until the dancers filtered out to the dressing room before barging up to Hudson, where he propped against the bar in the corner, making notes.
‘Can I talk to you for a second?’
He didn’t look up and held up a finger. ‘Let me finish this.’
She bit back her first retort: that it looked like he’d already finished them.
He took a full five minutes to finish scrawling and she used the time to do a few cool-down stretches while casting him surreptitious glances.
When he finally looked up and placed his clipboard down, a deep frown slashed his brow. ‘You wanted to talk?’
‘Is everything okay?’
Dumbass question, considering the frown and compressed lips.
‘Last-minute glitches that need ironing out before opening night.’ He tapped his pen against his notes. ‘I should’ve known things wouldn’t continue to unfold without a hitch.’
‘Anything I can do to help?’
‘Just dance your ass off on Sunday night,’ he said, the frown easing slightly. ‘I’ve been a grouchy prick and I’m sorry.’
‘You don’t have to apologise. Your work’s important to you. I get that.’
Relieved that his funk had actually been about work and not her, she continued, ‘I’ve got my audition for Reg tomorrow.’
‘Has that come around already?’ He pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Shit. I feel like I’ve lost days with all this work. I’m swamped.’ He shook his head, as if to clear it. ‘Are you ready or is that a stupid question?’
‘I’m ready.’
And she meant it. She’d researched the Broadway show until her eyes ached from staring at a computer screen. In a way, not spending time with Hudson the last few days had been a godsend. She shouldn’t have been so angsty about it.
‘Good luck—’ His cell phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket. He glanced at the screen, expression inscrutable. ‘I have to take this.’
Ignoring the niggle in her gut that insisted his standoffish behaviour was more than work, she said, ‘Sure, I’ll go get changed and pop back in to say bye.’
He nodded absent-mindedly, already turning away to take the call. She believed in hard work but Hudson was taking it to extremes at the moment as that niggle turned into something more and she knew her acceptance of his work excuse was foolish.
He managed the hottest nightclub in Sydney. Stood to reason he’d be busy all the time, yet he’d managed to juggle hours just fine when they’d first started their hot and heavy affair. So what had happened over the last few days to change things?
Ever since their stroll down memory lane in Kings Cross he’d been distant, a palpable coolness between them.
She didn’t get it.
Annoyed that she was letting her mulling ruin her concentration when she should be focussed on the all-important audition tomorrow, she grabbed her workout bag and headed for the dressing room.
However, as she neared the open door leading into the dressing room, she heard her name being mentioned so she paused.
The dance world was rife with backstage gossip. She’d lived with it ever since she’d started out in this business. Her mum had warned her about it early on, when she’d realised nothing or nobody could sway Makayla from following her dream.
For the most part, she ignored it. Bitchy backstabbing wasn’t her thing. But as she heard one of the male dancers call her a snooty bitch, she edged closer to the doorway. Eavesdropping wasn’t her style either but she didn’t want anything jeopardising Hudson’s show, considering he had to make it fly.
‘Did you hear the way he yelled at Miss Bossy Boots today? About time the big guy ripped those sex blinkers from his eyes and took her down a notch or two.’
Bossy Boots? As lead dancer she had the authority to discuss moves with her fellow dancers. Did that make her bossy? She’d wear it.
But sex blinkers? Her blood chilled. If they thought Hudson wore sex blinkers where she was concerned...how did they know? Hell. She’d made it clear to Hudson at the start that no one could find out about them for this very reason.
‘Probably the only way she scored lead dancer,’ a higher-pitched voice piped up. ‘Sleeping with the boss is a sure-fire way to score the top job, even if you’re an average performer.’
If her blood had frozen a few moments ago, it positively boiled now. Her secret was out and had resulted in exactly what she’d hoped to avoid. Innuendo.
And average? That was a low blow. She might not have an ego the size of the Opera House but she knew she was a damn sight better than average.
‘You sure she’s sleeping with him?’ A third voice, a baritone of one of the other male dancers, chimed in. ‘They don’t appear all that close at rehearsals.’
The woman snickered. ‘Are you blind? The way they look at each other when they think no one’s looking is positively sickening. They’re definitely bumping uglies.’
‘Gross,’ the baritone said. ‘Doesn’t mean she got the lead that way.’
‘You’re dumb as well as having two left feet,’ the other guy said. ‘I know for a fact my friend Sha auditioned for the lead and didn’t even end up alongside us in the chorus, so the redhead definitely got her shot by bonking the boss.’
‘You’re wrong,’ the baritone insisted. ‘She’s amazing. I’ve worked in stage shows all around Australia, as well as London and Paris, and I haven’t seen a lead dancer as good as her.’
Makayla had to clamp down on the urge to barge in there and kiss the guy.
‘You’re all just jealous so, instead of moaning and bitching, why don’t you all pull your fingers
out and step up?’ He paused and Makayla held her breath, wondering what her knight in shining armour would say next. ‘I love dancing but I hate this industry because of moronic, narrow-minded idiots like all of you.’
Makayla wanted to applaud so badly she curled her fingers into fists to refrain.
Silence followed her defender’s proclamation, before the woman finally spoke. ‘You’re right. I’m jealous as hell she’s so damn good. She makes every routine look effortless and I hate her for that.’
The guy whose friend Sha missed out on being cast in the show said, ‘I still think she shagged the boss to get the role.’
Makayla didn’t wait around to hear any more.
She had to confront Hudson and discover why he’d opened his big mouth.
That was when realisation hit. Was that why he’d been avoiding her the last few days? Was he feeling guilty for letting slip their secret? Had it been a mistake or had he hoped to rattle her into admitting they had more than a casual thing and had moved into serious relationship territory?
If so, he was in for a rude shock.
She wouldn’t be pushed into anything, least of all a relationship that could derail her lifelong plans.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
HUDSON SLIPPED HIS cell back into his pocket and stared aimlessly at the vacated stage.
He hated confrontation and would do anything to avoid it. Even as a kid he’d hide under his bed when he heard his father stumble in, bumping into walls and swearing vociferously, to avoid the inevitable skirmish that would take place.
At school, he’d used words rather than fists to work off his frustrations, and had taught Tanner to do the same.
Working odd jobs in Kings Cross as a teen had taught him the best life lesson to avoid confrontation: know how to read people. He’d been honest, savvy and dedicated to getting a job done, three qualities most people admired.
He saw those qualities in Mak and his admiration for her knew no bounds.
Now he had to be the one to tear her dream down.
‘Fuck,’ he muttered, dragging his hand through his hair.
Reg Grober had called, doing him the courtesy of letting him know first that the producer in New York had already filled the dance slot. Which meant Mak would be getting a call from Reg’s casting agency soon.
He’d asked Reg to give him half an hour before the agency called, as he wanted to be the one to tell her. He felt bad enough about how he’d been treating her the last few days, it seemed only right.
Because establishing emotional distance between them before their impending break-up was a hell of a lot easier in theory than in practice. It had killed him, watching her walk out of rehearsal each evening, knowing he’d chosen to let her go rather than take her home to his bed and ravish her.
But he’d had to do it, had to put himself through the torture of weaning himself off her rather than going cold turkey when she left.
Now, he felt stupid. Her audition had fallen through, which meant she wouldn’t be jetting off to New York soon. She’d be disappointed but he couldn’t help but feel relieved.
Mak would be sticking around. And that meant...what?
They could continue deepening their relationship, only for her to eventually leave anyway?
They could maintain the status quo, both ignoring the obvious—that they were in way deeper than they thought?
They could pretend that being emotionally invested in a relationship that had no future wasn’t the dumbest thing either of them had ever done?
Before he could mentally rehearse a way of letting her down gently, Mak stormed into the room and slammed the door shut behind her.
‘Why did you do it?’ She stalked towards him, her hands balled into fists and resting on her hips. ‘Do you have any idea how this undermines me?’
Confused, Hudson stared at five-ten of angry woman advancing on him. Had the agency already rung her and she thought he’d had something to do with the audition being cancelled? If so, it revealed what she really thought of him and it wasn’t good.
‘Look, I had nothing to do with—’
‘Don’t make this worse by lying,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘Do you think I’m an idiot? How else would they have found out?’
Okay, so this wasn’t about the audition. It didn’t make him feel any better considering she now stood close enough to jab him in the chest, fury radiating off her, making the fine hairs at her temples stand out as if she’d stuck her finger in a power socket.
‘You knew when we started up that I didn’t want people to know about us. You knew!’ Her chest heaved as she sucked in breaths to calm her anger. He shouldn’t have been turned on, but he was. It made him feel even worse. ‘Now they’re saying exactly what I thought they’d say if they found out—that the only way I got the lead role was by sleeping with the boss.’
‘Mak—’
‘Why can’t guys ever keep their big mouths shut?’
He’d been about to placate her but that jibe, lumping him with the rest of the guys she’d been with, stung.
‘I didn’t say a word to anyone about us,’ he said, sounding lethally calm when in fact he wanted to yell at her for not trusting him enough. ‘I wouldn’t do that to you and it’d be nice if you thought I was a good guy who wouldn’t betray you like that.’
Some of her anger deflated as her shoulders sagged. ‘It mightn’t have been intentional. You might’ve been swapping locker-room talk with Tanner and maybe someone overheard—’
‘I didn’t do this, Mak.’
Shit, if she was pissed at him about this, wait until he delivered the really bad news.
He could couch it in fancy terms, try to let her down gently, but he was seriously annoyed she thought he was a prick who’d talk about their relationship to others when she’d specifically asked him not to.
He’d give it to her straight.
‘While you’re hell-bent on blaming me for stuff I didn’t do, I’ve got more bad news.’
Her lips compressed into a thin, unimpressed line as she glared at him in condemnation. Her frosty silence spoke volumes. Sadly, it reminded him of the last time they’d had a major blowout five years earlier, when he’d hurled vile accusations at her and she’d done nothing but stand there and take it.
He’d wanted her to defend herself, to tell him he was wrong in assuming she’d chosen a life that could only end in pain. But she’d clammed up, staring at him with such hatred he’d had no option but to leave.
He hoped this time it wouldn’t mean the end of them too.
‘That call I just took? Reg Grober doing me the courtesy of letting me know that the audition for the Broadway show is off. The producer in New York found someone.’
Mak’s jaw dropped and she stared at him in disbelief. ‘What the hell?’
‘It’s showbiz. It happens.’ He shrugged, knowing he’d made a major mistake when she blanched and took a step back.
‘It happens?’ she mimicked, her eyes spitting so much fire he should’ve been fried on the spot. ‘Could you be any more dismissive of my dream?’
‘I feel bad for you but you’d be used to disappointment in the industry—’
‘Shut the fuck up!’ Disgust twisted her features as she strode towards the door, leaving him gobsmacked.
He’d expected disappointment.
He hadn’t expected this level of rage.
Like she blamed him somehow.
When she stopped at the door and placed her palms against it, bracing, with her head hanging, he wanted to go to her.
He didn’t.
Because he’d seen this kind of irrational anger before, when the seething person needed a scapegoat. He’d done it often enough with his dad in the past to know he wouldn’t put up with it again, even from the woman he loved.
So he stood
there. Watching. Waiting. Knowing without a shadow of a doubt that when she turned around and spoke, they’d be over.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MAKAYLA’S CHEST BURNED with the effort of holding back tears. She’d come in here spoiling for a fight, wanting to hurt Hudson as much as he’d hurt her by revealing their secret.
Then he’d gone and denied it, his honesty evident in his guileless eyes, and she’d felt like the biggest bitch in the world.
Until he’d lumped more crap on her and while she leaned against the door, trying to reassemble her wits, she couldn’t deny the one prominent thought front and centre in her head.
That he didn’t seem to care her dream had been shattered.
In fact, that aggravating shrug indicated complete nonchalance. A real ‘shit happens’ moment. And the anger she’d struggled to contain bubbled up again, swamping her in wave after wave of rage until she shook with it.
Spinning back around, she tried to calm herself. Failed. Deep down she knew that until she purged her innermost, insidious thoughts, she’d feel this crappy for a while.
‘You’re happy about this, aren’t you?’ She took small, measured steps towards him until they were two feet apart. Within slugging distance, not the best thought at a time like this. ‘I get to stay in Sydney and we continue this thing between us. Is that it?’
‘You’re disappointed, I get it. But don’t shoot the messenger.’ His expression grim, he held up his hands. Yeah, like that would calm her. ‘The agency would’ve called you direct about cancelling but because I put your name forward to Reg personally, he did me the courtesy of calling first. And I asked him to give me half an hour so I could tell you myself.’
‘I suppose I should be grateful for that,’ she said, sounding childish and churlish and hating herself for it. ‘But whichever way you dress this up, whoever delivers the news, it’s still the same. It sucks.’
This time when he shrugged, she had to use every ounce of self-control not to knock him on his ass.