…
The slamming of my front door signaled Noah’s departure and gave a clear indication he wasn’t happy.
But why?
He’d gotten what he came for. I’d given him my alliance in an attempt to save the theater and the town.
This was all about Andy and Caroline, right?
I sank down on my bed, letting the cool air blow over me. It all felt so surreal. Had I really kissed Noah? The taste of him—that intoxicating blend of spices that was hard-core Noah—had imprinted itself on my tongue. And what was even more surprising than the fact I’d actually kissed him was how good it had felt.
Like, amazingly good.
But it was never going to happen between us. Not in any real sense, at least. This was about the play and only the play. Besides, I’d almost offered myself to him once—body, mind, and soul—and what had he done? He’d thrown it back in my face, leaving me to fend for myself.
With a spine of steel, I pulled myself together, got off the bed, and traveled the short distance to the living room and my computer.
Now that the temperature in the apartment was becoming notably cooler, maybe I could focus. Long since used to the off-kilter lumps of the loveseat, I plopped down and opened my laptop. As I began rereading old thoughts and cataloging new, I realized things had changed. Maybe even dramatically. I could feel Andy now…smell him…taste him. By the time I finished making a few small changes to act 1, a knock sounded at my door.
The moment I cranked the lock back, Jessica barreled through, dressed in combat boots, short camo shorts with matching tank top, and pigtails. For a second I stood, staring in awe at her. With girl-next-door good looks, Jess effortlessly pulled off outfits that would’ve made the rest of us appear attention-hungry.
The moment I closed the door, she rubbed her arms. “Brrr. Am I coming down with something, or is it cold in here?”
“Noah,” I said with a half-bitter smile. “Coming to my rescue. Again.”
“Wish I had a hot guy swooping in to save me now and again.”
Jess knew about my past with Noah. Actually, she knew Noah and I had known each other for years, and that he and I didn’t exactly get along. I’d never told her why. I’d shared with her my once-upon-a-time crush I’d had on him and how we’d almost kissed, but hadn’t gone into detail about what had followed.
Jess cocked her head. “Ever think maybe Noah wanted you in Phair for something more than to save the theater?”
The reminder of how I’d come to get my job at The Marshall Theater rubbed me raw. “You mean something other than feeding his God complex?” While I was happy at the opportunity to come to Phair, it was one I’d wanted to earn by my own merit, not by Noah stepping in and pulling strings. I still couldn’t get over the fact that he’d been the one to point Lucas in my direction.
Jess followed as I returned to my spot on the loveseat. She sat beside me. “Seems to me there’s a lot of unfinished business between you two. If you decide to work together, do you think you can finagle around all this pent-up anger you have toward him?”
I let out an audible breath and rolled my head to loosen the muscles in my neck. “I hope we can. I mean, Noah’s already said there’s no way in hell he’s going to act out any of the Midnight in Summer scenes. Thing is, without him even knowing it, we kinda just did.”
Her brows rose and she sucked in her cheeks. “Do tell.”
“It was an experiment.” I nibbled my lower lip. “I kissed him.”
Just because I’d been channeling Caroline, kissing anyone like that was totally out of character for me. Now that my actions had sunk in, I felt a strange sort of liberation. For once, I was completely in control.
“But you’ve kissed Noah before, right?” Jess asked.
“Almost. He stopped himself just before it happened.” I pulled at a loose thread on the arm of the loveseat. “Funny, but that was the same day I met Kyle Pritchard,” I murmured.
“Who?”
Too late, I realize I’d said that out loud. “A jerk. Never mind.”
Tucking her leg beneath her, Jess angled her body toward me. “I read your script, Ash. Seems like there’s a hint of your past there. What happened between you and Noah? And what does this Kyle Pritchard guy have to do with it?”
“Argh.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “What happened was how I became a poster child for the young and stupid.”
“All teenagers are idiots.”
“Me more so.”
“Ashlyn, tell me.” Her voice was firm.
I sighed. I could pretend like nothing had happened, or tell the truth. I went with truth. Jessica deserved to know, because hers was one of the many futures caught in the crossfire. “I was seventeen. Summer between my junior and senior years. I fought with my parents and ran away, taking the train to New York. I’d planned to stay with my brother. But I had my weeks off and missed Quinn by a day—he’d already taken off for a backpacking trip in Europe. But Noah was there, staying in the apartment. He called my parents and told them I was safe. He even convinced them I should stay there until things blew over. Said he’d watch over me while I cooled off.”
I smiled, remembering the fun we’d had. Noah taught me how to use the subway, took me to museums, concerts in Central Park, and even got us backstage passes to a few Broadway shows.
“What where you fighting with your parents over?”
“College. I was never the all-star student like Quinn. When I said he’s a genius, I meant it literally. Visiting him when he was at Columbia was how I fell in love with New York. I had my sights set on NYU. My father wanted SMU because it was his alma mater and close to home.”
“Where he could keep you under his thumb, right?”
I gave Jess a little smile. “Exactly.”
She twisted a strand of hair around her finger and met my gaze. “So, basically you were running away from your family because of the life your father was choosing for you.”
An itchy feeling in that hard-to-reach place in the center of my back settled. “You could say that.”
“Sort of like how twenty-year-old Caroline ditched her own engagement party in 1957.”
I opened my mouth and closed it. When she put it like that, certain similarities between Caroline and me became obvious.
“Oh, God,” Jess said, recognition dawning on her face. “If your story is Caroline’s story,” she continued slowly, “then you must have met some young, rich guy at a play Andy Rich—well, Noah—had invited you to but then bailed on going. You tell the handsome stranger you’re an aspiring playwright. He feeds you a line about getting your script in front of his famous producer father.”
I shot her a look that said she was dead on, then swallowed the sour taste in my mouth. I hated reliving this part of my past. Maybe that’s why the play had remained stuck in Neutral for so long. “Yep. His name was Kyle Pritchard. And like Caroline, I naively invited him back to Noah and Quinn’s apartment with the intention of giving him said script.”
Jess’s expression changed, anger pinching her eyebrows together. “Kyle takes that as his right to force his way into your pants.”
I wrapped it up by adding, “Then Noah showed up, sans super-hero cape, to save the day.”
For a moment, Jess sat silent, staring at the floor. Finally, she looked up at me. “Did Noah, uh, show up in time?”
“I was handling it. I could have handled it. But instead…” I bit my lip, cutting off my words, unwilling to bring the images that had followed to mind. “I’ve never asked for Noah’s help. Not then, not now.”
“Doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re his best friend’s sister, but my guess is it’s guilt. He feels responsible for you.”
“Never mind. I wanted your objective opinion on the script,” I said, shaking my head. “I guess I have my answer.”
“You are Caroline and Noah is Andy.”
I sunk deeper into a lump in the loveseat. “So how do I fix it?”<
br />
“Fix what?” she said, grinning. “The script, or what’s between you and Noah?”
I shot her a baleful look.
Jess pulled her leg out from underneath her, mimicking my position on the loveseat. “Hell if I know.”
By the time Jessica left, I was exhausted beyond belief. I laid my head against the arm of the loveseat and closed my eyes, trying not to let situations overwhelm me. The sound of a car horn going off kept me from being lulled to sleep by the rhythmic hum of the AC. Before calm could return, another knock sounded. Figuring it was Jess, I called out, “Come in.”
Only it wasn’t Jess who waltzed through my door. Instead, Noah entered, carrying the largest and probably oldest beanbag I’d ever seen with one hand, a six-pack of beer with the other.
“What the hell?” I eyed the lumpy corduroy-covered cushion in disgust.
“In case you haven’t noticed, Wheels, you’re a little sparse on furniture.”
“I’ve been living in Phair for seven months. It’s too late for a housewarming, don’t you think?”
“Nope,” he said. “Trust me. This is exactly what you need. It’s seen me through many hard times and tough decisions. In fact, I’m not positive I didn’t lose my virginity on this thing.”
“That’s disgusting.”
His eyes softened, along with his tone. “My mother bought it for me when I was seven.”
In all the years I’d known him, I’d never heard Noah even mention his mother. Not that we were close and shared those intimate details about our lives the way girls do. But there’d been a time when we were friends. Still, I’d never asked him about why his mom had taken off, or why he had such a bad relationship with his father. But I had my suspicions.
Tossing the beanbag into an empty corner, he took the beer to the fridge. When he came back, he said, “Come on, Wheels, give it a try.”
“I’m not sitting on that thing after you’ve desecrated it.”
In spite of my protests, he pulled me from the loveseat. “Relax. The cover is removable. It’s been decontaminated many times over.” With a gentle nudge, he propelled me onto the beanbag.
Engulfed in a cocoon of softness, I wiggled until I worked myself into a perfect position.
“Now, just imagine your computer right here,” he said, motioning to the space across my legs. “Your neck is fully supported and all the pressure’s off your limbs. Isn’t it much better than that old allergen-infested lump of dust?” He cocked his head toward the loveseat.
“There’s nothing wrong with that lump of dust. I did actually clean it after I dragged it out of the dumpster. It took an entire bottle of Febreze.”
“You just made my point.” His smile lit his entire face. The effect left me breathless.
Tears pricked my eyes at his sudden show of kindness, which was in direct contrast with how we’d left things before.
“What’s this?” He kneeled in front of me and wiped the wetness away with the pad of his thumb. In the same motion, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ears. “Why are you crying, sweetheart?”
“I’m just tired, I guess. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
He had the decency to look guilty. “And you’re stressed.”
I took a shaky breath. “Why are you being so nice?”
“How about we agree to take a break from all the head-butting?”
Closing my eyes, I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stave off a downpour.
With the back of his fingers, Noah reached out and stroked my cheek. “Maybe if we lay down our swords and work together for a couple of weeks, we’ll figure a way out of this mess.” He held out his hand. “What do you say? Truce?”
I nodded and slipped my hand into the cradle of his, allowing its warmth to envelop me. “Truce.”
“We can all win, here. I want that more than anything, especially for you.”
“Why?” My gaze settled on the fine lines at the corner of his eyes—proof of frequent smiles and a certain charm the younger version of Noah had lacked. “Why is it so important to you that I especially succeed?”
“Because the sooner you get your shot on Broadway, the sooner you’re out of my hair for good.” His lips twitched at the corners.
I couldn’t help myself. I had to laugh at his comeback, knowing I’d totally set myself up for it. But the moment I did, other emotions took over and the floodgate of tears opened.
“Damn,” Noah said. “I hate it when I make girls cry.” He positioned himself next to me on the bag more than big enough to accommodate us both. Arms wrapped tight around me, he kissed my temple. “I promise, Ash. It’s going to be okay.”
If only I could believe it was true.
Chapter Six
Noah
This was crazy.
Absolutely nuts.
Part of me couldn’t help thinking Ashlyn was wielding her power over our truce, all in an attempt to see how far she could push me. I told her I’d rather rot than do anything remotely resembling scene enactment, but the day after our agreement to follow Lucas’s plan, Ashlyn had a new idea, one she’d been so excited about even I couldn’t deny her.
In this scene, Andy was supposed to be stalking Caroline. Why? I had no clue. But sitting on a park bench in a trench coat and sunglasses in one-hundred-and-eight degree heat met me at my role-playing max.
As if stalkers didn’t wear short-sleeved shirts and cargo shorts.
I’d been ready to bail on Lucas’s plan completely after Ashlyn had planted one on me. She’d taken me by surprise, hugging me after I’d installed her AC unit. Then she hadn’t let go. And true to form, my brain had meandered off somewhere while my body responded to her touch.
To her kiss.
She’d hated me for years, and suddenly she’d kissed me.
I’d thought maybe something was getting going between the two of us, but then she’d stopped kissing me and told me she’d been acting out the part of Caroline. Apparently I’d been acting the part of Andy Rich.
Damn her for not warning me first that the kiss wasn’t real. It would’ve spared me the few minutes of guilt I’d felt over my blatant participation.
My cell phone rang. Quinn. We’d been in constant contact since Pritchard showed up. Regardless of his heroic scene with saving the mayor’s son, in my opinion, the bastard reeked.
“What do you have for me, Q?”
Quinn got right down to business. “Equipment was sent and received. My contacts are already there and on target to finish installation later today. A video feed will link to your PC with footage stored on a secure channel. You’ll also be able to monitor activity from your cell phone.”
I heard the clack of fingers moving over a keyboard in the background. Hopefully he wasn’t hacking into the CIA while I was on the line.
“You’ll receive a text from an undisclosed source with instructions how to plug in to the feeds on video and GPS activity,” he added. “I’m already in Pritchard’s computer. Weird shit going on in there, but nothing illegal.”
“You mean nothing illegal other than you being inside his computer.”
“Semantics,” Quinn said.
“He’s at Lost Meadows RV Park, lot one-two-eight. You told your boys, right?” After Ashlyn had kissed me, I’d taken off to find out all I could about Pritchard and where he was staying. In a small town like Phair, it doesn’t take long for news to travel. I’d found out he was renting an RV slip and what lot he was in within twenty minutes.
“Right. Other than this, how are things? My sister doing okay? You keeping her away from Pritchard?”
I shifted uncomfortably, trying to stir some air within the confines of my coat. Babs had asked me the same question. And I’d given her the same answer I was about to give Quinn. “I haven’t exactly told her.” It never seemed the right time. She’d almost found out when the local paper had done a full page article about the “hero,” but thankfully, she had been in full-on writer mode and didn’t see the
article. She barely stopped to eat, much less keep up on current events. Didn’t take much to hide the paper from her.
“That’s not a bad thing,” Quinn said. “Be prepared, though. She’s gonna be pissed when she finds out you withheld intel.”
Rivulets of sweat ran down my spine, giving me all I could take.
This playacting was fucking ridiculous.
Just as I took off the trench and placed it on the bench beside me, I noticed Ashlyn was on the move.
“Gotta go.” Promptly ending the call with Quinn, I left my coat and followed her.
What the hell was she up to?
She wore a full white skirt that stopped just above her knees and a fitted button-up top the same shade of blue as her eyes. And then there were the cowboy boots, giving a rustic edge to her appeal. Her sexy auburn hair hanging loose in the breeze had me wanting to sink my fingers in and hang on, all while burying myself between those milky thighs. I was getting so wrapped up in sexual fantasies that could never, ever happen that I almost missed her turn and go down Main Street.
The plan was supposed to have an element of surprise. She didn’t know when I’d strike, or where. Or what I’d do when I caught up to her. Well, rather, what Andy Rich would do when he caught up to Caroline.
But by the time she reached the chiseled columns of the limestone theater, Ashlyn knew I was tailing her. But rather than going into the safety of the theater’s front door, she slowed her pace, headed to the rear entrance. By the time I reached the back of the building, she was nowhere in sight.
I walked up to the back door, put my hand on the doorknob, and looked around. Had she scrambled inside and up the stairs? Or had she skirted around the opposite end of the building? Before I could make a decision on which path to pursue, the knob jerked from my grasp. The stairwell door opened from the inside, and I found myself facing Ashlyn, who wore an odd expression on her face.
Before I could say something, she grabbed my shoulders and hauled me in. Her chest heaved from the effort. I waited for her to speak, tried to read thoughts that buzzed around her frenzied behavior.
Ashlyn wasn’t acting afraid of me, like she should had she been playing the part of Caroline.
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