Taking Chances: A Sweet Contemporary Romance (Dreams)

by Kamery Solomon

  “I know,” I said apologetically. “I have to figure out my job stuff, though. I need to take these classes.”

  “If you say so,” he sighed.

  I hated hearing the disappointment in his voice, but I was positive I was doing what needed to be done. My job at Olive Garden was not meant to be permanent. The itching under my skin was warning me I’d been too long without performing. The night at The Gershwin all those weeks ago had done wonders for me, but it was just like a drug. I’d had a little taste after a dry spell, and now I craved it more than ever.

  “I promise, I’ll do my best to find time somewhere.”

  “Call me when you get it figured out, okay?”

  “I will. Thanks for understanding.”

  I ended the call and sighed, slouching down into my chair. The coffee was helping to warm me up, but I still felt like the weight of eighty textbooks was sitting on my shoulders. It was hard to explain things to Chris. He didn’t quite understand why I needed to do all of these things, despite enjoying a good show now and then himself. He seemed to think that doing one show in high school should be enough practice for the big times.

  He doesn’t understand it like Evan does, I mused as I took a sip from my cup.

  I stopped myself there, the familiar fluttering filling my stomach at the thought of Lizzy’s brother. My honorary brother. Who had kissed me so well I could have died happy right then and there.

  Chris. Not Evan. Chris. Remember how he kissed you the last time you were together? He is the one you like. Not Evan.

  I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Chris was always polite and sweet and Evan had all but ignored me since I called things off. It was ridiculous to still crave the way Evan had ravaged me when Chris kissed me.

  I checked the time on my phone and sighed. It was time for me to catch the train to my voice lesson, or I would be late.

  In the two and a half weeks since I’d met April, she’d called her voice teacher to confirm I was coming in. I couldn’t be more grateful for her help and guidance.

  Getting up from my chair, I wove my way through the other tables and out onto the sidewalk. It was a beautiful morning, despite the chill. I could see the leaves changing in the park up ahead, frost gathering on some of the metal handrails leading down into the tunnel.

  During the ride downtown, I leafed through my song book, trying to decide what songs to sing that would help the teacher, Sarah Goodhall, get a feel for my voice right off. It felt a bit like trying to pick an audition song. I wanted to showcase my voice, but I also needed to pick something that would show her what I needed instruction on.

  I got off the train in the theatre district, still feeling the same thrill that shot through me every time I saw the iconic places around me. There were times that I couldn’t believe I’d actually moved to New York to follow my dreams. Besides the confusion with Evan, I was the happiest I’d ever been.

  Once I’d located the building that held the studio space my lessons would be in, I checked my phone again to make sure I wasn’t going to be late. Satisfied with the time I’d made, I shut it off and stowed it back in my bag, ready to devote all of the next hour to my voice.

  A few flights of stairs later, I took a seat next to the door to the practice room, hearing singing already coming from behind it. After a couple minutes, the door opened and the prior student thanked the teacher as he left.

  An older woman came to the door after he left and looked down at me, a smile on her face. The hem of her free flowing, flowery shirt rested on her thighs, covering the top of her jeans. Silver streaked, brown hair piled into a bun on top of her head, accented with a butterfly clip.

  “Mara?” she asked sweetly.

  “Yes!” I stood and shook the hand she offered to me, smiling widely as well.

  “I’m Sarah. Nice to meet you! Please, come in.”

  She held the door open for me, ushering me past her into the small space.

  A piano sat in one corner, a music stand by the backside of it. That was it. There was only one chair—the bench to the piano—and the black walls to look at.

  “April tells me that you have a lot of promise,” Sarah said as she sat down, stretching her fingers out in preparation to play.

  “That was very nice of her,” I said, blushing.

  “Well, I know her very well. If she said you’re good then you are.”

  “Thank you,” I said, the heat in my face increasing.

  “Let’s get right to it then!” She played a quick scale on the piano, deciding what to start with. “We’ll warm up, and then you can tell me about your singing history.”

  “Sounds great,” I said, setting my bag down and laying my music book on the stand.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “She was amazing Lizzy!”

  I pulled my apron out of my locker and tied it around my waist, Lizzy doing the same next to me.

  “I breathe totally different, now. I thought it was fine before, but she did something that just . . . you know? I feel like I could hold a note for the rest of the year and not even break a sweat.”

  “I’m glad,” Lizzy laughed, pinning her hair back like normal.

  “I need to tell April thank you. And Evan! Could you tell him I said thank you?”

  “Why don’t you tell him yourself,” she giggled. “I know you two have been avoiding each other since you went exclusive with Chris.”

  “I don’t think he wants to talk to me,” I replied nonchalantly.

  “Oh, he does,” she said surely. “He’s just too stubborn.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She looked at me with a smile on her face, pausing in her pre work routine.

  “Nothing,” she said after a minute.

  “Am I missing something?” I chuckled, bending down to retie my shoe.

  “Not at all,” she said with a mischievous grin. “We better hurry, though. They’ve done nothing but tell me how busy it is since I put my earpiece in.”

  “Great,” I moaned. “I don’t like busy.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have gotten a job at a restaurant in Times Square,” she laughed.

  The evening passed quickly because of the rush and before I knew it, we had both clocked out and were on our way home.

  “Hand me your phone,” Lizzy said as the subway train rushed under the city.

  When she handed it back, I saw that she’d texted Evan for me.

  “Thanks,” I groaned. “Now I have to take care of that.”

  “What?” she asked innocently. “All I did was invite him over for dinner in a few days.”

  It didn’t take him very long to reply, which I didn’t find surprising. He was probably just getting home from work and unwinding.

  “He says he’s only coming if you cook the food,” I sighed, showing her the screen.

  “Sounds like a plan,” she said, clapping her hands together. “I’ve been itching to get some nice food fixed for everyone. I haven’t had the time to really cook with work lately.”

  “I beg to differ,” I snorted. “As does our fridge.”

  “All of that is just practice for the real deal,” she grinned. “Just you wait. It’s going to be fantastic.”

  “I’m sure,” I laughed.

  Two nights later, I found myself in the kitchen, working on the massive amounts of food that Lizzy had decided to make for dinner. It was a true, seven course meal.

  “So, explain to me your restaurant,” I said, stirring the noodles that she had put me in charge of.

  “What do you want to know?” she laughed.

  “How are you going to open one? I mean, I’m sure that you can, but working at Olive Garden doesn’t exactly seem like a stepping stone towards accomplishing that goal.”

  We laughed together as she washed a bundle of fresh spinach before answering.

  “At this point in time, it seems like it’s never going to happen,” she sighed, laying the leaves on a cutting board and pulling out a knife. “I
keep trying to save up enough money to do something—anything—that will make me feel like I’m moving forward, instead of standing still. Things just aren’t working out, though.”

  “Don’t give up,” I said encouragingly. “If you keep working at it, things will fall into place.”

  “I hope so.”

  She finished her chopping and sprinkled the greens over a sauce she’d made earlier, clearly satisfied with how it turned out as she tasted it.

  “Thank you,” she said, taking the spoon I was stirring with. “I’m going to set the table while that simmers.”

  “You got it,” I said warmly, opening the cupboard to grab the plates, handing four over.

  She looked at me suspiciously, eyebrow raised.

  “Who did you invite over?”

  I mumbled a reply, shooting her an apologetic grin.

  “What was that?” she laughed.

  “My boyfriend. Chris.”

  I shrugged, turning my smile back to my work.

  “And here I thought we were going to have a nice family dinner,” she sighed, setting the places.

  “These noodles are done, I think,” I interrupted her. “I’m going to change into something a little nicer.”

  “Good thing I wore a sundress,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes dramatically.

  I laughed, heading to my room, an outfit already in mind. Just as I pulled a nice, black, three quarter sleeve shirt over my head, there was a knock on the door. I hoped it was Chris, so I’d have more time to prepare for Evan’s arrival.

  Something told me that hang around him would be much more difficult than it should be.

  “Hey, Liz.”

  His warm, baritone voice came muffled through the door and my breath caught in my chest, heart stopping at the sound.

  Evan.

  Suddenly, the thought of him slamming against the wall and trailing kisses down my neck popped into my head and I gasped, knocking my brush to the floor.

  “Mara?” Lizzy asked, calling from the other room. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes!”

  I quickly picked it up and ran it lightly through my hair.

  This is going to be interesting, I sighed to myself.

  There was another knock at the door as I exited my room. My eyes were instantly caught on Evan, though, a blush creeping through my face. Once again, I was remembering the things he had done to me.

  “Hey,” he said with a forced smile. “Long time, no see, right?”

  “Yeah,” I laughed nervously, reaching up to twirl my hair around my finger.

  I can’t stop thinking about it, I cried to myself. How am I supposed to sit here with my boyf—

  “Mara!” I drug my eyes from Evan, turning to the doorway. Chris looked handsome as always, in his suit. I was beginning to wonder if he really worked that much, or if he dressed up because he liked it.

  “Chris,” I said as warmly as I could, walking towards him as he held his arms out to me. “How are you?”

  “Fantastic, now that I’m with you,” he said, placing a finger under my chin and bringing our lips together for a light kiss.

  “Okay,” Evan said loudly. “What’s for dinner, Liz?”

  I pulled away from Chris, practically shaking from nervousness. It felt like everyone could tell I’d made out with someone I wasn’t dating.

  “It smells delicious,” Chris said with a smile. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  Evan glared at me for a split second before taking the cups Lizzy was holding and setting them out in their places.

  “It was a nice surprise,” Chris laughed, wrapping his arms around me once more.

  “I thought you’d like to meet my friends,” I said with a smile, reminding my insides to calm down.

  You didn’t actually do anything with Evan while you were exclusive with Chris. They’ve been around each other before. Just act normal and you’ll be fine. Nothing is wrong.

  “It was a surprise for me, too,” Evan butted in, going back into the kitchen to help bring the food out.

  “I figured you’d only care about the food,” I replied smoothly.

  Maybe this was a bad idea.

  Chris led me over to the dining area and pulled a chair out, motioning for me to sit down.

  “So, have your classes been going well?” he asked, talking softly so as to create our own conversation.

  “Really well,” I said with a smile.

  “Any job opportunities, yet?”

  “No,” I said, caught off guard by the direction he was going. “I picked up a couple of shifts this month to help pay for the classes. It’s been pretty tight between the two. I don’t think I’ll make it to any auditions until next month, when I have some wiggle room.”

  “Will there be room for me, too?” he laughed, a teasing twinkle in his eye.

  “I would hope so,” I giggled, my attention breaking from him as the other two joined us at the table, setting the food down in the center.

  “This is one of my own creations,” Lizzy said, laying a napkin over her lap. “So let me know what you think—for real! My feelings won’t be hurt if it’s terrible.”

  “Lizzy can’t make anything bad,” I laughed, grabbing the serving spoon.

  “I beg to differ,” Evan said, leaning forward and resting his folded arms. “When she was about seven or eight, she got the bright idea to cool off our ramen noodles with apple juice.”

  “It was terrible,” she laughed, remembering as well. “But, like he said, I was only seven.”

  “A few years after that, she decided to make peanut butter cookies for everyone.”

  “Sounds yummy,” I smiled.

  “You would think so,” Evan laughed, leaning closer to me. “She put a whole tablespoon of salt in the dough accidentally.”

  “They were inedible,” Lizzy chuckled. “No amount of sweet could save them.”

  “Mom was crushed,” Evan said, a fond look in his eye.

  “She would always eat the dough with us,” Lizzy said, the same look on her face. “That’s one of my favorite memories from being a kid.”

  “Is that what helped you realize you wanted to open your own eatery?” Chris asked.

  By this point, everyone had dished their own food and was taking the first bites.

  “I like this one,” she said, motioning to a plate and smiling. “And, yeah, I guess so. I never really thought about it. I just always knew that I wanted to own my own restaurant.”

  “What if it never happens?”

  “It will,” Evan said with a little force.

  He looked put off, his fingers gripping around his fork.

  “Dreams fall through all the time,” Chris continued, oblivious to the fact that he’d obviously done something to set Evan on edge.

  “If you work hard enough, though,” I said, trying to ease the tension. “Anything can happen.”

  “That is true,” Chris said with a smile, raising his first bite to his lips.

  We all watched as he chewed it up and swallowed, the grin on his face growing even wider.

  “This is really good!”

  “Thank you,” Lizzy breathed out, relaxing instantly. “I always get so nervous when someone new tries my food.”

  “You don’t need to be,” Chris said appreciatively. “This is very well done.”

  “She’s good at what she does,” Evan said, smiling at his sister in triumph, as if he’d won some unspoken battle.

  “What about you, Evan?” Chris asked, scooping another bite up. “What’s your dream?”

  “He wants to be a playwright,” Lizzy said.

  “Really?”

  “Not exactly,” Evan chuckled nervously.

  “Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes. “He already has a story idea. Someone else wrote it bad, though, so he’s going to write his own.”

  “How interesting.” Chris wiped his mouth and folded his hands in his lap. “Aren’t you worried that there’s not enough job security in that?”


  “What do you mean?” Evan asked, his somewhat stony stare back. To his credit, he did appear to be trying to be civil at least.

  “Will writing be enough to take care of you and any family you have for the rest of your life?”

  “It’s hard to say,” Evan said hesitantly. “Success in the performing world depends largely on what other people think of your work, no matter how much you put into it.”

  “Exactly! You could put countless hours into something and have nothing come from it.”

  “But it would be worth it, to me,” Evan said. “It’s hard to follow your dreams. A lot of people take the easy way out and pretend that they’re happy for the rest of their life. No one sees them dying inside, wishing they’d followed their heart.”

  He gave me a pointed look that was missed by the others.

  “Spoken like a true writer,” Chris laughed, picking up his fork again.

  “What about you, Chris?” Lizzy asked. “Do you have a dream?”

  “I’m perfectly happy the way I am,” he laughed.

  “He wanted to go to school to be an architect,” I said softly, suddenly butting into the conversation. “But he was worried he wouldn’t be able to support himself, so he didn’t do it.”

  “Sometimes dreams can’t be followed,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve never regretted my decision.”

  I looked up from my plate and glanced at Evan. He looked like he wanted to call Chris on his last statement. I’d never seen him so hostile before. Something had ruffled his feathers bad. It was a safe bet that part of it had to do with the fact that I was with Chris and not him.

  “Well, thank heavens Mara followed her dream,” Lizzy said, raising her glass to me. “Otherwise, none of us would be here now.”

  I blushed as the men raised their glasses, as well, the same expression on their faces directed at me. It took me a second to realize that it was admiration—and that Evan’s was much stronger than Chris’s.

  As if he’d noticed me catching on, he broke his gaze away from mine and looked at his sister. It seemed the same smile was given to her, as well, but I was sure I detected a slight change.

  What am I doing? Chris is right here! Stop looking at Evan.