To Be or Not To Be: The Actors

by Cathrine Goldstein

  “Oh, Trevor…” Jenna stepped up and put her arms around Trevor, holding him tightly.

  She felt so freaking good…he wrapped his arms around her waist and dropped his head, burying his nose in her hair, holding back the sobs that wanted to be set free. But no, he couldn’t do this, no matter how good it felt. He stiffened, dropping his hands and standing up tall.

  She stepped back, her eyes wide with surprise. “I should probably go.” She moved toward the apartment door.

  “Wait.”

  She turned back.

  “I like you, Jenna. Way more than I should. And the reason I can’t be with you…Maggie…”

  “I understand.” She forced a small smile.

  “No, you don’t. Maggie and I never had anything real, but the soap likes us together—”

  “Well you’re the two most beautiful people I’ve ever seen.” She shrugged.

  “Hardly.” He stepped closer. “Her father is my boss. The producer. Of all the cliché, stupid situations to get into…” He shook his head. “I never expected it to go this far. And now she wants more.”

  “To get married?”

  “Yes.”

  Jenna’s tanned skin whitened.

  “It’s not what I want, but I may not have a choice. My nephew, my sister, they rely on my income, and if I were to leave Maggie…”

  “You may have to leave Caspian.”

  “Yes. They’ll keep Caspian, but they can replace me. It happens all the time. They’ll find a way around my contracts, and then what would I do? Truthfully, I’d love to leave Caspian, but I just can’t.”

  “I understand, Trevor.” She stepped up and placed a warm hand on his forearm. “Believe me. I—”

  Suddenly, Jenna pulled her hand away, snapping her head around as a clap of thunder echoed overhead.

  “A winter rainstorm.” She tugged her jacket closed tighter around her tiny waist, turning to Trevor. Her movements were clipped, like a startled baby bird that had fallen from its nest. “I should leave. It’s going to get nasty, and it’ll be hard to get home and—”

  “Wait.” He moved, blocking her way.

  She caught her breath.

  He reached out and took her hand, intertwining it in his. “Just stay a few more minutes. Just until the storm passes.”

  “Trevor.” She pulled her hand from his. “We both know this storm isn’t going to pass.”

  She smiled sadly, and turning on her heels, left.

  Chapter Eleven

  Each smack of a raindrop on her head felt like a knife to her heart. She hated leaving Trevor, but she had no choice, not only for her own reasons, which felt so selfish and silly right now, but especially for his. For his sake and the sake of his family, she needed to stay clear of the incredibly handsome, sexy, talented Trevor Hughes. When she first met him and thought he was an asshole for abandoning a charity that meant so much to her…damn. She never would have guessed Trevor was supporting his sister, or that his nephew was so very ill. She never knew he was sick and tired of being Caspian, but he stayed for them. And she, of all people, understood doing something you hated to help someone you love.

  Jenna pounded up West Broadway, making her way to her train. Thump, thump, thump, the rain hit harder and harder, each drop a slap against her skin. Why was walking away from Trevor so painful? It’s not that there could ever be anything between them—not with his situation and hers. But…she jumped a puddle as she trudged on. They had so much in common: the desire to take care of their families, their mutual love for theatre, the loss of their fathers, the loss of their beloved acting coach…and beneath it all, a crazy attraction for one another.

  Dodging fellow New Yorkers, she ran faster as the rain came down harder. Drenched, Jenna thought of his warm penthouse and the complicated elevator she had fought against to make her escape—could it have been a sign she was supposed to stay? No. She couldn’t afford to think like that. There was way too much at stake—the health and well-being of a child. Besides, even if his situation were different, she was alone, and thanks to her circumstances, she would remain that way.

  But their situations weren’t different. They were very straightforward. She would continue on her path to be an egg donor so she could help support her sister, and he would stay with Maggie to support his. It was the way things were supposed to be. Jenna looked up and rain pummeled her face. But what if? She snapped her head down and marched on. There was no “what-if” for them. She had no time for these thoughts—it wasn’t as if she chose this life.

  ****

  Trevor stood frozen on his balcony, watching Jenna. From his vantage point on the eighth floor he could see her on the street, making her way through the busy city and the rain. He stared, transfixed, as she traveled farther and farther from him.

  He was paralyzed. Why the hell was he being such a fucking wimp? He was a man, damn it. A tall, strong, successful, wealthy man. He wanted her, and she wanted him—but there was no feasible way…

  Forget his crazy attraction to her—her incredibly bright eyes, her small, toned body, that fucking nose ring, the tiny little stud that glistened against her tanned skin—there was so much he wanted to say to her. He wanted to understand her problems, and talk about his. He wanted them to lounge together on his couch, drinking gallons of coffee while they laughed, or cried, or just sat quietly together. When they had talked through every detail of their lives from their deepest fears to their most outlandish dreams, he wanted to lift her up into his arms and carry her up the stairs to his bedroom, making love to her for hours. Trevor sighed. Despite having a life most people would kill for, he had become quite the expert in wanting what he couldn’t have, and what could never happen.

  With his stomach in knots and his head pounding, Trevor made the necessary phone calls for Don Oleesa’s funeral. Although it pained him to do so, he also canceled rehearsals for the next two days. He wanted to—needed to—see Jenna. At least he was sure she would be at the funeral, even if they couldn’t be there together as he had hoped. Sad and confused, Trevor made his way to the music room to lose himself.

  ****

  Don’s funeral service was held at St. Malachy’s Church in Manhattan. The church was mobbed with actors and various people the acting coach had known throughout his life. It was standing room only for many latecomers, and Jenna sat wedged between Luis and Loretta on one side of her, and her agent, Kat Price on the other. Jenna wore her same blue dress, having given it a quick wash in her bathroom sink, and letting it line dry in her kitchen. She didn’t have the time or the desire to trudge to the laundry fourteen blocks away. Despite her efforts, it was still damp in places.

  Trevor sat three rows up, next to Maggie. He was wearing a gorgeous charcoal suit, tailored perfectly to his body. Before he took his seat, Jenna caught how the suit accented his wide shoulders and nipped in at his toned abdomen. Normally, she really didn’t like the suit and tie look, but good grief, he could make even that look sexy and dangerous. Jenna’s gaze burned into his back.

  “Why don’t you just sleep with him already?” Kat’s voice was too loud.

  Jenna’s jaw dropped, and she turned to Kat. Heat radiated from her core and stung her cheeks. “Kat…? We’re at a funeral. How could you—?”

  “Oh please. It’s Don Oleesa’s funeral. He would want us all to be celebrating life and love, and not mourning his death. You know that as well as anyone, Jenna.”

  Jenna fidgeted, uncomfortably.

  “It’s clear you want to…” Kat leaned in and whispered now, “have relations with him.”

  Jenna buried her face in her hands.

  Kat spoke in her regular voice again. “And from the number of times he’s turned around—”

  “Eleven,” Luis leaned over and whispered.

  “You, too?” Jenna spoke in a hurried hush.

  “Jen, the man showed up at your door at eight on a Sunday morning to see you and came to our freaking cold wedding on a rooftop in January. Then h
e whooshed us all into his waiting car to rush us to the hospital.”

  “That is true,” Loretta chimed in, fanning herself with a prayer book. The growing crowd made the church stifling.

  “Really?” Kat leaned across Jenna to Loretta.

  “Oh, yeah.” Loretta nodded enthusiastically.

  Luis chimed in. “That’s kickass testosterone stuff you bring out in him, Jen. It was like a scene out of a romance novel or some shit.”

  “Luis,” Loretta reprimanded, slapping Luis on the shoulder with her prayer book. “Language. We’re in church.”

  Luis rubbed his arm.

  “Really?” Kat repeated. She turned to Jenna, her eyes bright, eyebrows raised.

  “Yes.” Jenna mumbled her answer as Trevor turned around again.

  “Twelve,” Luis interjected.

  Jenna sighed. “But it wasn’t a big deal. I was confused and sad, he took control. That was all.”

  “I’m confused all the time,” Kat said, “and I sure as hell don’t have the likes of him”—she lifted her oversized clutch to point at Trevor—“taking control for me.”

  “Guys,” Jenna snapped.

  A man next to them shushed her.

  Jenna continued in a whisper. “We are at a funeral. Don Oleesa’s funeral. And no matter how much he would have wanted us all to go on, let’s please show some respect.”

  “Amen to that,” Loretta agreed.

  Luis and Kat mumbled and sat forward in their seats as the priest motioned to Jenna.

  “Young lady, would you like to speak?”

  Jenna’s cheeks flushed.

  “You got caught talking.” Luis chuckled quietly, smiling at Jenna.

  “I can’t do this.” Jenna turned to Luis and Loretta. The one thing Jenna feared the most, aside from letting down her sister or falling for Trevor, was being unprepared to speak in front of people. She moaned. “Uh…” Jenna looked around, panicked. A sea of faces stared back at her, and suddenly it was a year ago, and Jenna was at her father’s funeral, with Don at her side. Don had traveled by train for hours, wading through crowds of people at Penn Station, getting jostled as he waited for a cab, just to be there for Jenna. The least she could do was to be here for him, now.

  Maggie snickered.

  Jenna took a deep breath and stood. She smoothed her dress and walked forward slowly. She stepped up next to the priest and said a polite “thank you.” Facing the crowd, she inhaled sharply, gripping the sides of the podium. She surveyed the packed church and nodded. These people were here because they loved Don.

  “I didn’t plan to speak today…” Jenna turned her face away from the crowd and cleared her throat before going on. “Excuse me.”

  Luis caught her gaze, and he motioned for her to speak. Loretta gave her a thumbs up, and Kat mimed for her to stand up taller. She turned to Trevor and he smiled at her.

  “When I think of Don,” Jenna spoke softly but with confidence into the mic at the podium, “I think of his eyes. How they lit up when he was directing, or when one of his students had a break-through, and especially, when he talked about his Evelyn.” Jenna gave a small smile to Trevor who nodded back. She continued. “Anyone who’s been around Don for more than a minute knows of his love of Ernest Hemingway’s writing.”

  Most of the congregation chuckled.

  “So I think it’s only fitting for Mr. Hemingway to say our final words about Don.” Jenna swallowed hard, thinking of Don’s smiling face before her. As she quoted her favorite passage from The Old Man and the Sea—the one that told of the old man’s eyes—a tear escaped, running down her cheek. She didn’t bother to wipe it away. She stepped down from the podium, feeling Trevor’s gaze on her as she walked past many sorrowful parishioners and back to her seat.

  ****

  When the service ended, Jenna sat tight in her seat. Maybe if she didn’t move, she wouldn’t have to face Trevor and Maggie—or admit that Don was really gone.

  Luis leaned over. “You have to eventually move you know.”

  She shook her head.

  “Come on.” Luis stood, offering Jenna his hand. “We’re gonna head to the diner. You need to eat.”

  Jenna didn’t speak.

  Luis cocked his head. “Want to tell me what happened?”

  Jenna stood with Luis as the crowd filed out of the pews and into the aisles. Trevor and Maggie stood near their seats in the front of the church talking to people as they walked by. Trevor glanced toward Jenna and smiled.

  “Nothing.” Jenna made eye contact with Luis. “Nothing can happen, Luis.”

  “Because of your dumb ass plan or because of Baywatch Barbie over there?” He nodded to Maggie.

  “Both.”

  “Yeah?” Luis crossed his arms. “Let me tell you something, Jen, you’re a smart girl but you don’t know shit about men. He’s about as attracted to her as I am to Kat.”

  Jenna giggled. “I doubt that.”

  “I don’t. You all think you’re so intuitive but you’re clueless. He hasn’t touched her once. Not once. The man’s in pain, and all he can do is look to you. He wants you, not her.”

  “Even if you’re right, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  Luis held up his left hand, flashing his gold wedding band. “That’s exactly what I used to think—there was no fucking way I could ever get Loretta to marry me. And now—” Luis grinned. “Come on.”

  Jenna followed Luis out into the aisle. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Trevor moving toward them. They stopped, allowing people to pass, as Trevor stepped up, extending his hand to Luis. The men shook.

  “Luis, Jenna. I thought I’d miss you. Where’s Loretta?”

  Luis pointed to the front door. “Over there with Kat.”

  Trevor nodded, his gaze settling on Jenna’s face. She turned away.

  Luis shook his head. “Trev, we’re heading to our diner to grab a bite. The Carlton on Eighth. How ’bout you join us, and you can buy us that wedding meal you promised?”

  “I’d love to.” Trevor’s face brightened.

  “Great.” Luis stepped back to let someone pass. “Grab your girl, and we’ll meet you there. We’re planning a good-memories-only tribute to Don with all his favorite foods. Bacon and greasy eggs, home fries, and lots of cornbread smeared in butter.”

  Trevor hesitated. “Well uh, Maggie isn’t much into diner food. She’s macro or vegan or something…” He looked over his shoulder at Maggie who was talking to a small group of people and back again.

  “Ask her. She can sip sparkling water or whatever women like that do.”

  “Uh, thanks.” Trevor shifted closer to Jenna.

  “Come on, Jen.” Luis tossed his head to the door. “I wanna remember Don with a freaking huge chocolate milkshake. See ya there, Trev.”

  “Yeah. Uh, Jenna?” Trevor grabbed her arm.

  She wheeled around, and he let go.

  “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

  She turned to Luis. “I’ll meet you guys at the diner, okay?”

  Luis winked at Jenna. “See ya.”

  Trevor and Jenna stood in the aisle of the still busy church.

  “Jenna. I want to—”

  “Wait, Trevor. Please. I don’t think I can get into anything heavy right now. I know you’re here with Maggie and I know why. And even if you weren’t, I’d still have my reasons for having to remain single. There’s nothing between us, so there’s nothing to feel bad about.” She pointed her thumb behind her. “It’s a sad day today, and I want to be with my friends to remember Don. I’m going to go to the diner. I hope to see you there.” With her head aching, Jenna turned and left the church.

  ****

  Trevor’s heart pounded as he walked into the diner. Of course he wanted to come to mourn Don with his new friends but he also wanted to understand what Jenna was saying to him. She very clearly told him that even if he left Maggie, she still couldn’t be with him. But why?

  He honestly had as
ked Maggie to come but she had no interest in sitting with a bunch of “nobodies” eating diner food. Thank God. Sometimes things really do work out. He stepped into the retro diner, and the smell of matzoh ball soup warmed him immediately. He missed eating in diners like this with real everyday people. Sure, fancy dinners out were great but sometimes he just wanted to be a regular person again. A woman in a nearby banquette noticed him and smiled. He waved to her politely then spotted Jenna sitting at a large table, her back to the wall. Loretta was on one side of her and an empty chair on the other. Three other people were standing near the table, talking. Three people that needed seats. Trevor’s pace quickened like he were in a high-stakes game of musical chairs. He pushed forward toward that seat next to Jenna, but the woman jumped up from her booth, blocking his way.

  “Are you Caspian Locke?” She dropped her gaze and smiled, blushing.

  Trevor peered around the woman to that empty seat next to Jenna. One of the men talking to Larry moved toward Jenna. Damn it. “Uh, yes. Yes, I am. Would you like an autograph?” His gaze was still on that seat, agitation forming in his esophagus. He rubbed away the pain.

  “Let me just grab something…”

  The woman headed back toward her booth—could she move any slower? Energy coursed up and down Trevor’s arms. His legs ached as he forced himself to stay still. He glanced at the woman who was digging through her bag while she giggled with the two others at the table. He turned back to Jenna. Crap. The man talking to Larry turned in profile. It was Guildenstern and he was making a move toward Jenna.