Chapter Thirteen
It was pretty crappy going into makeup second. Not as bad as first, of course, but that extra forty-five minutes or so didn’t give you really enough time to do anything except constantly check the time to make sure you weren’t late. Makeup going long because you were late did not endear you to the other guys. He’d already fucked that up once since he joined the band, and the show that night had been hell.
But then again, he didn’t want to be too early, because Natasha had always acted a little weird toward him. At five minutes to his showtime he went into the makeup trailer.
Nathan was still in the chair chatting to Natasha and…Anya. A flush of attraction flicked through him, and he sucked in his stomach instinctively. But then he realized she’d be watching him put on makeup. Shit. There was nothing whatsoever sexy about watching a guy get made up, he was sure of it.
“Sorry, Will. We’re running a bit behind.” Before he could glare at Nathan, she continued. “It was my bad. I couldn’t find my last tube of Watertight Base, so I had to run to my trailer and find the new shipment.”
Heat rose in his face, he could feel it. He’d taken the semi-used makeup the night of the previous show. He was still hiding a lot…
He ducked his head and sat on the other side of the trailer from Anya. He hoped he wasn’t actually blushing, although, thankfully, the light in the trailer was horrible except for the corner in which Natasha worked. That was ablaze with lights. All the better to see their imperfections.
He looked up at Anya and smiled. She blushed. Great. They were both embarrassed.
“Did LJ give you hassle when you left the stage? I heard him say something to you as you left,” Nathan said from the chair.
Anya’s head snapped up. She probably thought it was about her.
“He’s a joy to be around, I’ll give you that,” Matt non-answered. He shifted in his seat and tried to get a read on her face. Was she embarrassed about last night? About what they did? Their making-out? It had been really intense. He decided to act. To force her hand in front of Natasha and Nathan.
He stood up and slid into the booth next to her and draped his arm around her. Take that, awkwardness. In that second, he realized this was more than just charming Anya. He wanted more than that from her, wanted to know more about her. No, he wanted to know everything.
Both Nathan and Natasha froze for a split second, watching his reflection in the mirror. So he guessed their secret was out. Well, too bad. He didn’t want it to be a secret. Anya stiffened for a second, and then leaned against him and put her hand on his thigh. Right. Everything was still cool, then. “You going to watch the show tonight?” he asked her.
She hesitated. “It…depends on how many dares I have left.”
Matt laughed. “I can’t believe I didn’t use more of those last night.” He squeezed her shoulder. “You’ve only worked off one, so you have four left. And yes, before you ask, I’m adding more. So yes. You still have to dance.”
“Natasha?” she called. “Are you watching the show tonight?”
“Sure am, sweetie. I rarely miss ’em,” she replied from her corner.
“Can I go with you?”
“Of course you can! Who else can I make fun of Sister Act with?”
“Sister Act?” Nathan asked.
“I mean Cherry.”
“Ouch. Do not let Paige hear you say that. She has not been in a good mood recently,” Nathan said.
Natasha laughed. “Sweetheart. When has she ever been in a good mood?”
“Well, when she was hooking up with Miles, she was pretty damn happy.” Nathan shrugged.
“That’s only because she was planning world domination and babies and things,” Natasha retorted. “You all know that.”
“True,” Nathan said. “Good thing he saw through her before he fell in love with her. I think she had this weird idea that because Miles is English, she would somehow become royalty if she married him. Do you remember, Will? She started wearing those tiaras everywhere, not just onstage.”
Matt started. “I don’t remember.” He couldn’t concentrate on anything except the swirls Anya’s fingertips were making on his leg.
Nathan said, “What do you mean you can’t remember? You made fun of her to her face about becoming Queen of England and asking her how many ladies-in-waiting she’d have. I didn’t even know what ladies-in-waiting were, remember? You told me to watch The Tudors. I did, and my mom nearly killed me.” He grinned wickedly. “So now I just watch it on my phone.”
“What’s The Tudors?” Anya asked.
“You’ve never heard of The Tudors? It was a series about Henry the Eighth of England and his six lovely wives,” Matt said.
“So why was your mom upset at you for watching it? It sounds educational,” she asked Nathan.
“Riiiiight. You can take that one, Will,” Nathan said between clenched teeth as Natasha put that weird tan pencil stuff around the outside of his lips.
“It was less educational and more…what’s the word I’m looking for?” Matt said.
“Porny? Is that the word you were looking for?” Natasha piped in.
“Maybe a little porny…but educationy, too. I swear,” Matt said. One look at Nathan’s face in the mirror and he started laughing. Nathan had to push Natasha’s hand away so he could laugh without her drawing all over his face.
Natasha whacked him on the shoulder. “Keep still you little perv, or none of you will make the show on time!” She shoved a tissue in his hand, and he wiped away the tears of laughter that were messing with his makeup.
Matt turned to Anya. “Okay, before I get this done, you have to promise that you won’t be grossed out by me with makeup on.” He held out his little finger. “Pinky swear?”
She grabbed his finger with hers. “Pinky swear. Actually I think it’s really…attracti—interesting, I mean. Very Cabaret.”
“What’s Cabaret?” he asked, although a good three quarters of his brain was echoing with the word “attractive.”
“Hang on a sec. Look.” She pulled up some YouTube clips of this hot woman dancing in a smoky club, and a man with a shit ton of eye makeup on. It was kind of elegantly sleazy. It was kind of attractive. In a dark way.
“How do you know that? Who is that girl?” he asked.
“It was a movie from way back. Like old even when my mom used to watch it. The girl is Liza Minnelli. She’s awesome in the movie.”
“Maybe we can watch it tonight after the show. I bet we can find it on Netflix.”
She frowned like he was saying words she didn’t understand, but still agreed. “Sure. If you think you can sit still after the show.”
Before he could answer, Natasha brushed off Nathan, sent him to wardrobe, and spun the chair around for Matt. “My lord,” she said, flicking the seat with a small towel.
He rolled his eyes at her and sat down. She clipped his hair away from his face and wiped lotion on his skin with a cotton ball.
“So I see you’ve been hospitable to Anya since she got here. That’s mighty gentlemanly of you,” she said in her southern accent.
“I am nothing but a gentleman.” He grinned in the mirror at Anya. At least she couldn’t argue that. But he saw both their faces fall a little. Anya’s eyes flicked to Natasha and back to her tablet. “What? What did I do?”
There was a small silence before Natasha said, “Nothing, sugah. Nothing at all.”
“He’s been very gentlemanly to me, I promise,” Anya said.
“Well that’s all right then.” Silence.
“What have you been up to?” Matt asked Natasha.
“LJ asked me to come on the world tour a few weeks ago, so I’ve been trying to rearrange all my other jobs so I can come with you guys.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you were heading off on a world tour. I probably should have known that, shouldn’t I? Where are you going?” Anya asked.
Matt looked at Natasha to answer, as she looked at him to answe
r. Except he couldn’t. He’d paid exactly zero attention to the world tour plans because he knew he wouldn’t be going. Will would be back by then. “Europe?” he guessed.
She rolled her eyes as she applied what she called “primer.” “It’s mainly a European tour, but because we’re also going to Japan for a record ten shows, they can officially call it a world tour. I’ve also heard rumors of Australia, which will be cool.”
“Sounds exciting,” Anya said.
“I’m excited,” Natasha said. “I’ve got a contact to hook me up with a woman who does traditional geisha makeup, and she said she’d show me how to do it. I’m saving up so I can buy the genuine supplies there.”
“That’s cool,” Anya said. He wondered if she was thinking about how they would continue their relationship. He wished he could say, “Don’t worry, I’ll be starting college in the fall.” But he couldn’t. Couldn’t reassure her. Didn’t even know if she needed reassurance.
“Yup,” Matt agreed, although he wasn’t sure what geisha makeup was.
Natasha’s fingers pattered lightly across his face. “It’s funny. Since you had your accident…” Her voice trailed off, and Anya’s head snapped up in the mirror.
What’s that about?
“Since my accident, what?” He frowned.
Natasha paused and then shrugged. “You must have face planted really hard, because since you came back, your bone structure is different. Not hugely, but just a fraction of an inch here and there. It’s weird. I never thought a bad fall could shift things around like that, but they obviously can.” She pulled out a huge fluffy brush for powder. “Hold your breath.”
He waited for the cloud of powder to settle and wondered what to say. At least she had somehow provided her own excuse for how different his bone structure was from his brother’s.
“So what you’re saying is that I’m more ruggedly handsome than I was before?”
Before she could answer, his phone rang. He looked at the display. It was Mom.
He swiped his finger across the screen and held up a finger to Natasha, who nodded and left him alone and went to arrange her brushes.
“Hey, Mom,” he said, ducking into the bathroom.
“How’s it going there, darling?”
“So far so good. How’re…things there?”
“I have great news. He’s finished rehab. Just turned a corner and is really healthy now. He thinks he can join the tour again.”
Matt’s heart started beating fast. He peeked out at Anya chatting to Natasha. “So soon? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He winced at himself. He was letting his feelings for Anya overshadow everything.
“I’m fairly sure. This is great news, Matt. It means you can come back to your life. Aren’t you happy?”
“I am. It is awesome news. Thump him for me, will ya?”
“He’ll be in touch soon with a plan for the switch, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Break a leg tonight.”
“Thanks. Love you.”
“Love you too, darling.” She hung up.
He gazed again at Anya in the mirror, cold trickling through him. He had just a matter of days with her, and then he had to disappear, leaving her to think she was in a relationship with Will.
He’d started off wanting to have a bit of fun with her. But he’d gone beyond that. He’d fallen for her. He’d kissed her. And in the end, he would have no choice but to abandon her. Or try to. The thought of Will taking up where Matt had left off turned his stomach.
Probably shoulda thought this one through better.
…
So all Anya had learned was that boys will be boys, even the cute ones who you think definitely wouldn’t be watching The Tudors on their phone. Not sure how she could weave that into her story, and even if she could, did she really want to get Nathan into trouble with his mom?
She just wasn’t cut out for this. Her homeless piece had been close to her heart, and no one was hurt by her writing it. But finding a scoop for money? Screwing people over? People that she knew? It just felt all kinds of wrong.
Her ruthless bone had disappeared the second she stepped foot into the plush bus she was currently calling home. Not that she really knew any of them, even Will, who seemed to always be just slightly off. When he was onstage, he was the most confident person in the world. But as soon as he was offstage, he became hesitant, almost like he was second guessing everything he said or did. Until he relaxed, and then it was virtually impossible to imagine he’d ever been shy.
Almost like he were two people.
But that kind of thing only happened in the movies. Besides, he knew she was here to get some dirt on him. Who wouldn’t be nervous?
But she still couldn’t see herself humiliating someone in public. Not for fun, or for money. It was wrong, and she didn’t want to ever be the person who did that.
After Will had headed off to costume, Natasha had told her to come back when her last makeup of the evening—Ryder—had left. When she returned, Natasha was screwing tops back on tubes and organizing everything
“Sit down. It’s your turn now,” she said, grinning.
“What? No, no it’s okay, don’t worry.” She didn’t want her to go to any trouble when she’d offered to help her the following day.
“It’s no trouble. In fact it’ll help for tomorrow. I can get a feel for your skin and the colors that suit you. Sit.” She spun the chair around and pointed at the seat.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I want you to look magical tonight. It’s a sultry night, and you and I are going to make the most of it.” She grabbed some bottles and cotton balls and got to work.
“What do you mean sultry?” Anya asked.
“It’s hot, and humid, and adventure is beckoning. Don’t you feel it? We have backstage passes for the biggest band in the world right now, we’re in the mix. And we have the best seats in the house. Doesn’t that get your blood rushing? It does for me. Maybe New Orleans is my spiritual home, but there’s just something in the air.”
“Okaaay,” Anya drawled, but in truth she did feel it. But it wasn’t New Orleans. She realized she was watching history being made here. Maybe not world-altering history, but something important all the same. And Natasha’s enthusiasm was infectious.
“Tell me something about you that no one else knows.” Natasha said, her mouth half closed around the end of a makeup brush.
Anya half laughed. “That’s easy. No one knows anything about me!” Why did she say that? But even as she said the words—the truth—a tiny beam of light played with her soul. Maybe the truth does set you free?
Natasha took out the brush. “What do you mean?”
She tried for a little more light. “My mom left me alone in our house when I was fifteen. I’ve been on my own since then.” A little lighter. Was sharing her secrets the answer? Natasha hadn’t hesitated in sympathizing with her about the meeting with her boss, maybe she was the right person to speak to. Even making the decision to tell her made the load she was carrying seem pounds lighter.
“What? Sweetie. What happened to you? Where do you live now?” Natasha squatted down in front of her, concern etched over her somewhat sparkly face.
“I live in Hanging On right now. My backpack holds everything I own. I have to meet my boss tomorrow, and she thinks I’m like twenty-seven with kids and a husband. When she sees me, she’ll know I’m none of those things. And if I lose my job tomorrow, I’ll have to hitch back to Tulsa and maybe find a shelter to stay in.”
“My ever-living God. What? No, no, no. I’m not going to let that happen. If you get fired we’ll figure something out, okay? You poor, poor girl. How old are you really?”
Anya hiccoughed. “Seventeen.” Tears trickled down her face of their own accord. How could one random person, one solitary person who cared, save her life by offering help?
Natasha wrapped her arms around her, stroking her hair. “You poor, poor soul. You’re so brave. I’
m going to look after you now, okay? I’m going to make you up tomorrow, and you’ll nail this meeting with your boss, and you can stay with us for the rest of the tour. We’ll be our own Sister Act.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how you’ve survived. But I’m glad you did. We’ll figure everything out together.
“Now stop crying, or I’m not going be able to make you look spectacular tonight.”
Anya laughed with a freedom that made her lightheaded. “Thank you, Natasha. For being so nice.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied simply. “You see. They don’t call the makeup seat ‘the confessional’ for nothing. It works every time.” She smiled at her in the mirror.
Anya felt free for the first time in about five years. In truth, she’d been looking after her mother for years before she actually left. She hadn’t realized how heavily it had laid around her, inside her. Pressing her down, making her feel tight and on edge. A lot of that had disappeared.
She watched Natasha work in the mirror. How could someone be so open to helping a virtual stranger? Father Howard did, but he was all religious, and he had to be kind like that. And Jude. He had been in her same position. But no one else, literally no one, had ever offered her help or support before Natasha. Were there more people out there like that? The idea had never really crossed her mind. Surely if there were, there wouldn’t be any homelessness?
But then…what about Will? Could she tell him?
She wanted to—so badly—but what if he didn’t want to know a fake reporter with no home? What if he treated her like he treated Natasha? Just pretending there was nothing between them. Or got her fired, or broke her heart.
She closed her eyes for a second, feeling the heartbreak that was just over the horizon. No. No. She couldn’t risk telling him. It was too dangerous. Too…everything.
Natasha was one thing. Will was something totally different.
She opened her eyes, resolute. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?” She hated how pathetic her voice sounded.
Natasha frowned. “No, sugar. Not a soul. To my deathbed, okay?”
“Thank you,” she said, relieved.
Anya and the Shy Guy (Backstage Pass) Page 12