Nothing Like Love

by Abigail Strom

  And there wasn’t. Even if there weren’t an ocean between them, the two of them had vastly different worldviews. Simone was a realist and a pessimist. She didn’t believe in romance.

  She might be up for a one-night stand, and God knew he’d had his share of those. But the chemistry he felt with Simone wasn’t one-night-stand chemistry.

  His attraction to her was more than physical. He was intrigued by her, stimulated by her, charmed by her.

  But he wasn’t prepared for her to invade his dreams. It was time to reestablish the boundaries between them.

  Starting tonight.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Simone spent the better part of Monday wondering what it would be like to see Zach after their two near misses.

  She’d had time over the weekend to think about all the reasons the two of them shouldn’t hook up. They were colleagues, for one thing, and while Simone had never given a damn about her personal reputation, she cared a lot about her professional one. Sleeping with her company’s guest director was not a bullet point she wanted on her resume.

  And while her avoidance of serious relationships usually protected her from heartbreak, she had a feeling that even a few days with Zach Hammond could leave a mark. Did she really want to go there?

  The smart money was on no.

  This way she got to be a sexy cameo in Zach Hammond’s life—and he was one in hers. Their flirtation had been exciting and fun, a moment to relive when she was old and decrepit and trading anecdotes in a retirement home. A rare thrill, like floating on a cloud.

  Now it was time to come back down to earth.

  But when she passed a trio of reggae street musicians on her way to rehearsal, she did a little dance on the sidewalk. And whenever she thought of Zach’s blue eyes looking into hers, her heart skipped a beat.

  “Oh, that I had an algebra book,” she murmured to herself when the theater came in sight, “so that I could scribble our names in the margins with a plus sign and a 4eva.”

  But no amount of snarky self-talk could deflate the bubble of happiness she’d been in since Saturday. Zach Hammond had flirted with her, damn it. Wasn’t she entitled to get a little teenage dreamy over that?

  She’d been gearing up to see him once she got inside the theater, but it happened sooner than she expected. She was at the doors when a taxi pulled up at the curb and Zach got out. He was wearing sunglasses, jeans, and an Arctic Monkeys T-shirt, and he crossed the sidewalk with all his usual confidence—confidence that bordered on arrogance but never quite crossed the line.

  He stopped short when he noticed her standing there. In spite of her determination to stay cool, her heart was beating like a drum.

  “Hi, Zach.”

  “Hello, Simone.”

  He kept his sunglasses on, which put her at a disadvantage. She’d already taken hers off, which meant she was squinting into the setting sun while his eyes were hidden behind reflective lenses.

  She needed to think of something to talk about before a brief silence stretched into an awkward one.

  “So,” she said after a moment, deciding to ask about tech rehearsal schedules. “What do you think about—”

  “Simone,” he said, interrupting her.

  She blinked up at him. “Yes?”

  “I want to apologize.”

  “Apologize? For what?”

  “For my behavior this past weekend. I blurred the lines of our professional relationship and I’m sorry. I’m hoping we can go back to the way things were.”

  It was exactly what she’d been thinking, so there was no reason to feel disappointed . . . or rejected.

  Except for the fact that what she was thinking and what she was feeling were two entirely different things.

  Zach’s body language couldn’t have been more different from what it had been at the wedding reception. His hands were in his pockets, his shoulders were stiff, and he was already turned toward the theater, as though he was impatient to leave and only continuing this conversation out of politeness.

  This wasn’t the first time Zach had had second thoughts about flirting with her, but it would be the last.

  “You bet,” she said. “It’s like it never happened.”

  She turned before he could and pushed open the doors first.

  “Simone—” she heard Zach say behind her, but she ignored him.

  Amy and Quentin were in the lobby, and she hurried over to them before Zach could catch up to her.

  “Ready for rehearsal?” she asked brightly.

  Amy frowned at her. “Are you all right?”

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know. You seem tense. And you’re dressed up.”

  “Not wearing jeans doesn’t make me dressed up,” she snapped, wishing Amy weren’t so observant.

  “You’re also wearing makeup.”

  “So?”

  “You don’t wear makeup to rehearsals.”

  “I’m going out after.”

  “On a Monday night?”

  “What are you, the clubbing police?”

  “Okay, okay, forget I asked. Did you get Louise’s message about the Helena costume? She’s waiting for you in the dressing room.”

  Simone managed to keep her path from crossing Zach’s for the rest of the night, mostly by staying in the dressing room and focusing on costume issues. If Zach had a question about the set, he relayed it through Amy or Norbert, which seemed to indicate he was no more eager for a meeting than she was.

  She felt better by the next night’s rehearsal. It didn’t make sense to be angry, and even if she were, she wasn’t the passive-aggressive type. When she was mad, she said so. Loudly.

  But she wasn’t about to yell at Zach for flirting with her and then apologizing for it. She wasn’t about to imply that he had the power to upset her that much. Zach was her company’s guest director, and that was all.

  She made a point of going up to him with a question about one of the backdrops. He looked at her a little quizzically and then smiled, and by the time their conversation was over, Simone felt herself relaxing.

  By the end of that week things between them were almost back to normal. Then, the night of dress rehearsal, they found themselves alone backstage. Zach was checking one of the prop tables and Simone was looking over the lighting cue sheet when she happened to glance up and catch his eye.

  For a moment they just stared at each other. Simone felt as though some enormous weight were crushing her chest, making it impossible to breathe. Zach’s face flushed and his jaw tightened, and he took a step toward her.

  She had no idea if he was intending to come up to her, or what he might say if he did. All she knew was that she didn’t want to find out. She turned blindly and went toward the women’s dressing room, one place she knew he wouldn’t follow her.

  Simone was careful not to be alone with Zach after that. They only interacted when there were other people around, and Zach was a little more formal with her than before—almost scrupulously polite. But it felt as though an electric current ran between them, a live wire it wouldn’t be safe to touch.

  The show was going well. Once the reviews came in they sold out their second weekend, something they’d never done before. They had an actual hit on their hands. Not a Wicked-level hit, of course, but an off-Broadway, Shakespeare-level hit.

  Everything was good. Great, even. They sold out their closing weekend, and the company was starting to talk about their upcoming trip to Ireland.

  If there was a way she could have been beamed across the Atlantic, Simone might have been excited, too. But her fear of flying loomed larger and larger, making it impossible to look forward to the trip.

  And then it was their second-to-last performance and Kate and Ian were in the audience. With the costume and scene changes running like a well-oiled machine
, Simone had gotten Zach’s permission to sit with them and watch the show from the house.

  While they waited for the curtain to go up, Kate and Simone discussed the text they’d gotten from Jessica. It said only: On honeymoon with friend. Will call when I get back.

  “Do you think it’s, you know, a guy friend?” Kate asked.

  “I don’t know, but I hope so. If anyone deserves to blow off a little steam, it’s Jessica. I wonder if—”

  A hand descended on her shoulder. “Simone?”

  She turned her head and saw Amy standing in the aisle. It was obvious from her expression that something was wrong.

  The curtain was supposed to go up in twelve minutes. This was a very bad time for something to go wrong.

  “Got to go,” she said to Kate and Ian before grabbing her purse and following the stage manager backstage.

  Amy started talking as soon as they were out of earshot. “It’s Belinda,” she said. “Something with her appendix. She went to the hospital.”

  Simone had to trot to keep up with Amy’s long strides. “Is she okay?”

  “Her boyfriend just texted that she’s in surgery. The doctor said she’ll be fine . . . but we don’t have anyone to play Hermia.”

  “What do you mean? What about Pam?”

  Pam understudied Hermia, Cobweb, and Hippolyta.

  “Yeah, bad news there. Apparently Pam flew to LA this morning without telling anyone. Her agent got her an audition for a TV series.”

  Amy took her to the greenroom. Every member of the cast and crew seemed to be there, all of them talking at once. Zach was there, too, standing like an island of calm in the midst of the chaos. When he caught sight of Amy and Simone, he went to join them, closing the door behind him.

  They went down the hall to an empty dressing room. Zach grabbed a couple of chairs for Amy and Simone before leaning back against the Formica makeup counter, his arms folded across his chest.

  He didn’t look panicked like Amy did. He looked intense and alive, his blue eyes sparking with energy when he spoke to her.

  “Has Amy filled you in?”

  Simone nodded. “She told me about Belinda and Pam. Could one of the other understudies—”

  He shook his head. “No one else knows the part.” He paused. “The fact is, there’s only one person in this theater who knows Hermia’s lines.”

  It took a moment to sink in. Then:

  “Oh, no. No way.”

  Amy grabbed her hand. “You can do it. You know the staging, the exits and entrances—you even fit the damn costume.”

  Simone stared at her. “Are you out of your mind? I can’t go onstage and pretend to be an actor. I’d ruin the play.”

  Amy shook her head. “I know you’ve never acted before, but you’ve been in theater your whole life. And you did great as Titania that day, and—”

  “You can’t be serious. Fooling around as Titania for half a scene is one thing. But this—”

  “We wouldn’t be asking if we weren’t desperate. We’ve got calls out to a few people, but even if we can find someone who knows the part and is willing to do it, what are the odds they can get here in time? We can delay curtain for twenty minutes, maybe, but not longer than that.” She leaned forward. “I don’t have to tell you what canceling tonight’s performance will do to our standing and credibility.”

  “That’s not fair! You can’t—”

  Zach put a hand on her shoulder and spoke to Amy. “Would you mind giving Simone and me a moment alone?”

  “Of course not,” Amy said immediately. “I’ll check and see if anyone’s called us back.”

  She pulled her phone from her pocket as she left the room, and then it was just the two of them.

  In the silence, Simone felt her anxiety rising. And sitting down with Zach looming over her wasn’t helping.

  She got to her feet and started to pace. “Zach, I would do this if I could. You know how much this production means to me.”

  He stayed still for a moment as she moved restlessly around the room. “You can do this, Simone.” Then he stepped forward, into her path, and the symptoms of panic were suddenly intertwined with the symptoms of something else.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes, and rational thought went out the window.

  Was there a woman alive who could say no to this man? A woman who could feel the persuasive power of those cobalt-blue eyes and refuse anything he might ask of her?

  She pulled away from him and took a step back. “Don’t you dare try to charm me into this. You can’t just flash those baby blues and that sexy smile and expect me to—”

  He grinned at her. “You think my smile is sexy?”

  She refused to answer that. “Why did you send Amy out of the room?”

  “It wasn’t so I could charm you. It was so I could persuade you.”

  “Why would you want to persuade me to do something this insane? If I went up on that stage, I’d just be reciting lines from memory. I wouldn’t be acting. It would be a disaster! If you’d just look at this realistically—”

  He shook his head. “That’s why I sent Amy out of the room. To persuade you, for once, not to be realistic—or pessimistic. We’re in theater, Simone. That means we’re in the magic-making business.”

  “If I get on that stage, I won’t make magic. I’ll make a fool of myself.”

  He shrugged. “It’s a possibility.”

  “Hah! You admit it.”

  “Doing live theater is always a risk. That’s what makes it magic, and that’s what stretches us. This is your chance to stretch. To get out of your comfort zone.”

  He was so confident, so assured . . . and it was starting to piss her off. “That’s pretty rich, coming from the man with the perfect life. When have you ever had to stretch yourself?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to know why I left Hollywood? Because doing movies was getting too comfortable. In film, you can do a retake if you mess up a line. You can edit, you can do voice-overs, you can fix any damn thing you want to after the fact. But there’s no immediacy in that. No risk. In theater, a performance lives and dies in a single moment. There are no second chances. It doesn’t get scarier than that—or more electric.”

  He took a step toward her. “You’ve got a chance to live in that moment tonight. For years you’ve created the sets and the costumes that help actors make magic onstage. Don’t you want a chance to feel what they feel, just once?”

  She didn’t have an answer for him. Because the truth was, she did want to experience that. She just didn’t think she could.

  “Here’s the thing, Simone. If you don’t take a risk tonight, this performance won’t happen. This moment will be lost. The people out there in the audience . . . the people in this company who’ve worked so hard . . . you’ll let them all down. I know it’s not fair, but that’s the way it is.” He folded his arms. “The show must go on. There’s nothing more basic to our profession than that. It means everyone pitches in. It means we do what needs to be done, even if it’s not our job. So here’s the question you’ve got to answer. Are you a trouper, or aren’t you?”

  She turned her back on him and walked away a few paces. How dare Zach accuse her of not being a trouper? She’d been a trouper since her first show in high school, when she’d stepped up after their stage manager quit.

  She turned around and faced him again.

  “Damn you, Zach. I’m supposed to go onstage tonight and then get on a plane next week? Are you trying to kill me or something?”

  He met her eyes. “You don’t have to get on a plane.”

  She stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “If you perform Hermia tonight, you won’t have to fly with the company to Ireland. As long as you make yourself available for meetings over the phone and on Skype
, you can stay here.”

  The thought of not having to fly was like a weight coming off her shoulders. It would almost be worth going onstage for that.

  Then she thought about the sold-out crowd.

  She bit her lip. “I can’t do it. I can’t.”

  Zach was quiet for a moment. Then he said: “I know it’s scary. But I didn’t figure you for a coward.”

  Her head jerked back as though he’d struck her. “I’m not a coward.”

  “Then prove it.”

  “By going onstage and making a fool of myself?”

  “Yes.”

  They stared each other down. There was challenge in Zach’s eyes, and she could only imagine the turmoil in hers.

  Then Amy stuck her head in the room.

  “I just talked to Martha, who was sort of our last hope. She can’t get here in time.” She looked at Simone, her eyes pleading. “What’s it going to be? Will you give it a shot?”

  They were too much for her.

  “Fine,” she snapped, and then Zach lifted her off her feet in a huge bear hug.

  For an instant she was enveloped by him, surrounded by his warmth and strength and vitality. Her heart started to pound and she squirmed out of his arms.

  Amy rushed over and grabbed her by the hand. “Let’s get you into costume.”

  They got her dressed and in makeup in record time. The curtain would go up only fifteen minutes late, which, all things considered, was pretty damn impressive.

  All the actors and stagehands were waiting for her when Simone came hurrying up from the dressing room.

  “Spirit circle,” Amy said firmly, and Simone shook her head even as she joined the group in the space between Zach and Norbert.

  “Spirit circle?” she asked skeptically. “Seriously? This isn’t junior high drama class.”

  Norbert squeezed her hand. “It’s a special occasion.”

  She looked around at all the faces. Everyone was smiling, excited, happy—positively exuding confidence and faith in her.

  “How are you feeling?” Zach asked.