A Midsummer Night's Fling (Stage Kiss Series Book 1)

by Beth Matthews

Easy on the ears too. Nicola puffed out a sigh. Lachlan. What to do with Lachlan? He was being super flirty, Nicola liked him, he was gorgeous, charming, British. Perfect material, in other words, for a quick show fling.

  Yet Nicola's admiration for him was oddly detached. Even half-drunk and edging toward horny, she found herself uninterested in following through in any physical way on their flirtation. Which was at least half of why she had invited Cassie in the first place. Nicola didn't want to give Lachlan an opportunity to make a move. She didn't want the awkwardness of shooting him down.

  Cassie's pointy finger dug into Nicola's ribs. Nicola rounded on her friend. "What?"

  "Isn't that Max?"

  Nicola forced herself to glance over. She was mentally assembling a collection of polite, safe chitchat to deal with Max when she realized her ex wasn't alone.

  A woman hung on Max's arm, laughing and flirting up at him. Ice water trickled through Nicola's veins as she recognized the woman's silver-blonde hair and throaty laugh. What is Max doing?

  "Isn't that Judith O'Fallon with Max?" Tierney leaned on the table to see through the crowd.

  A muscle ticked in Lachlan's jaw. "I believe so."

  "Wow," Cassie said. "She's a bit of a silver-fox, isn't she? I hope I'm that hot at her age."

  Watching Judith laugh and flirt with Max, watching Max play the perfect date, Nicola's blood pumped faster, pounding in her ears like a war drum.

  "Funny," Lachlan said, tearing at the label of his beer. "Dear Max told me he was going straight home after rehearsal."

  Nicola polished off the rest of her beer then plucked Cassie's bottle out of her hands and worked on that.

  "Uh, Charlie?"

  Nicola grimaced into her drink, irritated at the bubble of jealousy building inside her. She didn't want Max. Not really.

  But damned if I want anybody else to have him either.

  That was natural enough, right? Ex-boyfriends were supposed to go out to pasture to die. To die miserable, celibate, and alone, in fact. They were not supposed to enter into a relationship with a ridiculously talented, annoyingly well-preserved, semi-famous director extraordinaire. Right under my nose. That for damn sure wasn't how the reunion was supposed to go.

  Tierney bumped Lachlan with her shoulder. "Max is getting the jump on you, Lach."

  Lachlan's nostrils flared and a stiff smile tensed his mouth, but all he did was take another swallow of beer.

  Nicola tried to shove her fuzzy brain toward coherence. "Jump? On what?"

  "Henry V is the big play this fall." Tierney was arranging the empty bottles in the center of the table, making a glass fort for some reason. "Lachlan, being an arrogant ass, assumed the part was his. But Max is getting into the game now." The beer bottles arranged to her satisfaction, Tierney propped her chin on one hand and slid a smug, amused glance toward Lachlan.

  Cassie raised her eyebrows. "Making nice with the director for a part? That won't end well."

  Tierney laughed. "Such a pessimist. I'm sure Max and Judith will live theatrically ever after."

  Nicola flinched as Max moved toward their booth, but he was only escorting Judith to a table several feet away. He held a chair out for the director and happened to glance over.

  As he and Nicola made eye contact, his mouth fell open.

  She gave him a curt wave. Jack ass.

  Max's gaze flicked over the rest of their party, and his eyebrows drew down in a mighty frown at the sight of Lachlan. Well, probably at the sight of Lachlan with his arm behind – practically around – Nicola.

  Max's frown was quite impressive, he looked like Zeus about to do some serious smiting with his lightning bolts. He should channel some of that rage into his Oberon. He circled around his table to sit across from Judith. Max gave Nicola's group a brief wave, gave Nicola her own special, burning scowl, then he focused on Judith. As he spoke to the director, a brilliant smile lit his face, and the sight of his laugh lines made Nicola's heart clench.

  She sighed into her beer. After everything she'd been through, everything Max had put her through, how could the sight of him still make her eyes so happy, make her heart skip with school-girlish glee?

  What is wrong with me?

  ***

  What the fuck is wrong with me? Max thought, not for the first time as he tried to focus on Judith. Now he was in the meeting with her, their drinks sitting in front of them, casual chitchat out of the way, all he seemed able to concentrate on was Nicola sitting with Lachlan across the bar.

  Really, that was Judith's fault. If the director wanted privacy then they shouldn't have come to one of the known cast hangouts. If Judith wanted to discuss business then this meeting should have taken place in one of the theater offices and not The Bore's Head.

  The meeting should also have happened much, much farther away from Nicola in her red off-the-shoulder sweater. The delicate bones of her clavicle, the graceful column of her throat kept distracting him. He pretty much hadn't heard a single word Judith had said since seeing Nicola. All his senses were strained toward the other table. Listening for Nicola's laugh, trying to catch words. Trying to see how serious Lachlan was about hitting on his ex-girlfriend.

  "So, you've heard the gossip then?" Judith asked. One of her cool white hands reached out to brush his, startling Max enough that he slopped some of his drink onto the table.

  As he blotted the mess with paper napkins, he forced himself to keep his attention on Judith. If he offended the director tonight he could kiss Henry V goodbye with a big, smacking smooch right in Lachlan's direction. "The Henry V rumors you mean? You're directing, right?"

  Judith smirked as she sipped her expensive scotch. "My, my. What an active rumor mill the RSF has."

  Max opened his palm in a small shrugging gesture.

  "Yes," she said. "The RSF is putting Henry V together for the fall, and I'm directing. We're going to have auditions, of course, but I want our King Henry cast ahead of time. I'm thinking of using a company member as King Henry." Judith set her glass down and spun it around between her hands. "I saw you play Pompey in Antony and Cleopatra last year. You have great physical presence, and I think you're a talented actor, Max. I think you could do exciting things with the Henry part."

  "Thank you." He took another slow gulp of his drink, hoping to return some moisture to his mouth. King Henry. YES. Max pinched his lips, trying to keep himself from beaming. But, inside, he was doing a touchdown dance. Mine, mine. Henry is mine.

  "But."

  Max felt like she'd poured his icy drink over the back of his neck. "But?"

  "I've got my eye on a few of the other young men in the company. Outside the RSF too."

  "Lachlan?"

  "Among others."

  Others? Max swallowed, suddenly worried.

  ***

  Nicola watched Max ease forward over at his table, leaning toward Judith. Whispering sweet nothings, no doubt. Stupid Max.

  Nicola jumped as Cassie poked her in the side. "Come with me to the bathroom, Charlie?"

  "Really, Cass? This is so unlike you."

  "Behaving like an actual girl? I know." Cassie rolled her eyes. "Come on."

  Lachlan slid out of the booth to accommodate them. Nicola smiled back at him as she tottered through the bar. So pretty. So Not-Max. Cassie tugged on Nicola's arm to keep her moving.

  In the ladies' room, as soon as the door swung shut, Cassie rounded on Nicola. "What are you up to, Charlie-girl?"

  "Huh?"

  "Usually you pick one guy and you go for it. I've never seen you try to play the jealousy card."

  Her friend seemed to have gone from 0-60, and Nicola was still trying to find the parking break. "What?"

  "Max. You're flirting like crazy with Lachlan to get to Max."

  "Am not."

  Cassie snorted in disbelief.

  Nettled, Nicola leaned against the wall, hunching a shoulder. "I'm not. Lachlan is gorgeous. And British."

  Cassie smirked. "I noticed."

>   "And Max is . . . Max."

  Cassie laughed. Nicola poked her.

  "Fine, fine," Cassie said. "The Den Mama will retire for the evening." Her friend raised her arms in surrender, turning her geisha tattoo and the samurai upside down.

  Nicola felt dizzy and realized she'd turned her head to follow the tattoos' faces. She righted herself, blinking. "Don't give me anymore beer."

  "Duh." Cassie narrowed her eyes. "What's the deal with you and Max anyway? The way you talk about him, it feels like he was more than a childhood sweetheart."

  Nicola winced. That's right, she had sort of fudged the truth with Cassie the other day. Well, shit. "He wasn't just my childhood sweetheart. We dated on and off for eight years."

  "OK, now you have to tell me the rest of this. Eight years?"

  Nicola nodded toward the door. "Lach and Tierney – "

  "They'll wait." Cassie pressed her back against the door, preventing Nicola from opening it. "Max and you. Talk."

  Nicola clucked her tongue. Cassie could be pretty damn stubborn when she set her mind on it. Still, Nicola's beer and the British flirt were waiting for her outside. The sooner she gave Cassie the dish the sooner Nicola could get back to her evening plans. "Max and I dated in high school and a little after, like I said. Hot and heavy. The first big, official, we're so over break up we had was the summer I graduated college because he drove drunk and crashed his car."

  "Right. And then?"

  Nicola glared at her for interrupting.

  Cassie made an apologetic grimace then mimicked locking her lips and throwing away the key.

  Nicola went on, "After that, we didn't speak for five months. I moved across the country for grad school. I was making new friends. I had a few rebound flings at parties. Then I came home for winter break. Max and I ended up at the same New Year's party. We kissed at midnight. We got back together."

  The memory of that kiss still made flutters in her chest. They'd circled each other that whole New Year's night, eyes meeting across the crowded room, secret smiles hidden from their friends. Then, a minute before midnight, sneaking away, holding hands under the moonlight. A magical, special moment stolen out of time. She'd missed him so much, wanted him so much, and she'd been fighting it for months. So when Max leaned toward her, the starlight shining in his eyes, Nicola had kissed him.

  Cassie touched her hand, breaking Nicola free from her reverie. Nicola shook herself and continued, "Max and I were good for a little while. But he was still partying too much, and I . . . I got pretty clingy. I stopped hanging out with my old friends, stopped making new ones at school. I only wanted to be with Max."

  Cassie frowned. "He cut you off from your friends?"

  I'm telling it wrong. Nicola rubbed her forehead, frowning, trying to figure out how to explain this bit. "No. It was all me. He was – he is a social butterfly. He always liked to be out with people. Partying. And I didn't like my new school so I really didn't feel like socializing. Max became enough for me." Here was the difficult part; she took a ragged breath. "I was going to grad school on the east coast, but right about then I told him I could transfer to UCLA so we could be together. I, um, I even offered to drop out for a while so we could be together." She cleared her throat, still embarrassed by her younger self's single-minded devotion.

  Cassie gaped at her, arms crossed, samurai tattoo snuggling up to the geisha girl design on her other arm. "You were going to quit school because of a guy?"

  Nicola rolled her shoulders, trying to shake the prickling tension, but finally she had to meet Cassie's gaze. "Yes. I thought I was going to marry him. I thought he was going to be my future. Those kind of choices seem more reasonable when you're pretty sure the guy is the love of your life."

  Nicola dug her fingernail into a crack on the linoleum of the sink, avoiding Cassie's gaze. "But he saw things your way. Said I was making him my whole life and I needed to pull back, have interests outside of him. We broke up. He was right."

  He had been right, but that didn't mean she could forgive him for destroying the girl she'd been. For shattering her heart so completely she was only now managing to put the last few pieces together.

  "So you two broke up for good then?" Cassie asked.

  Nicola hesitated, there was more, but only a little. And it was so much messier than what had come before. And Lachlan was waiting, and other people needed the bathroom. This was enough. Cassie had the big picture she'd wanted; Nicola had unburdened herself. Crisis solved.

  Cassie bit her lip, shooting an uncertain glance at Nicola. "Do you still have feelings for Max?"

  More talking? Nicola brushed a hand through her hair and knotted her fingers at the back of her neck. She wanted to laugh the question off, but her mind kept spiraling back to Max, to him sitting out there with another woman, to the way her stomach was in knots thinking about it. To that kiss after her audition, to the warmth in her heart the moment she'd opened the door and seen him again. She wet her lips. "I don't know."

  Cassie scoffed.

  "Cass, I honestly don't. Half the time I want to kill him. Half the time I want to tear his clothes off with my teeth."

  "Honey, I just met Max a few days ago and I feel that way about him. He's gorgeous."

  Nicola hip-bumped Cassie in rebuke. "But I don't know if that means I still have feelings for him."

  "The lust vs. love question," Cassie intoned.

  "It's not love."

  Her friend shot her a skeptical stare.

  "It's not love." Nicola slapped the sink, shaking her head. "Even I am not stupid enough to fall in love with Max Fiesengerke for a third time."

  Cassie knit her arm through Nicola's and pulled her out the door, dragging Nicola toward their booth, toward Lachlan. "Then you should be fine, right? As long as it's not love."

  Nicola nodded but, as they passed Max's table and he didn't so much as glance at her, her stomach was in knots again. Knots she still didn't know how to untie.

  As they approached their table, Lachlan stood and smiled beatifically first at Cassie and then, with an extra special warmth, at Nicola. She looked up at him, admiring the chiseled perfection of his cheekbones, the mobile sensuality of his lips. A gorgeous man, that Lachlan.

  And there were no minefields with him. No baggage. No history or emotional gunk. No tangled knots of feelings.

  And, most importantly, he was not Max.

  As she slid back into the booth, Nicola made sure to slide in extra close to Lachlan. He pushed another beer her way and, despite Cassie's quelling look, Nicola batted her eyes at Lachlan as she took a drink.

  ***

  Max was painfully aware of Nicola passing behind his chair, the scent of her citrusy perfume drifting across his senses like a caress, but he forced himself not to follow her with his gaze. Judith was the important thing right now. Judith and his career. Yes. Right. Obviously. "So, you're looking outside the company for your King Henry?" he said.

  "Yes. But that's Isabelle's idea." Judith tilted her head to the side, her silky hair sliding over her shoulder. She was a beautiful woman, with a cool sort of sex appeal, but she was too aware of it. Judith knew how to position her body to display her breasts, how to tilt her head to create the best view of her face. She made a pretty picture, but it was exhausting to be around her after awhile, to be around all that posing and trying.

  Nicola, on the other hand, was totally unconcerned, laughing, tossing her hair with careless grace, the edge of her sweater slipping unnoticed to show more and more of her creamy skin and delicate bones . . .

  "Max?" Judith said. "Where did you just go?"

  "Sorry." He eased onto his elbows, leaning close to Judith so he couldn't even see Nicola's table. "You were saying there were other contenders for Henry? Outside the company?"

  "Yes." She drank then set her glass on the table with a click. "For instance, what's your brother's availability like this fall?"

  "Peter? You asked me out to talk about getting Peter to play Henry?" Fuck
my life. He took a deep drink of his iced tea, momentarily wishing he could trade for Judith's scotch.

  "It would be a big coup for the RSF to have someone of Peter Fiesengerke's notoriety work with us," she said. "The opportunity would be good for Peter too."

  Because Peter needs more opportunities to shine. Star of the Year. People's Choice. Sexiest fucking Man Alive. Max glanced away from Judith to hide his flare of anger, which left him staring at Nicola as Lachlan leaned over to whisper something in her ear. She giggled and very carefully looked anywhere but Max's direction.

  He jumped as Judith's fingertips brushed over his hand again. Reigning himself back from his crappy mood, he shoved a smile onto his face. "I think Peter would be an interesting choice for the Henry part. You should call his people. I don't have anything to do with his career." And damned if I'm going to be the one to offer Peter my dream part.

  "Max." Judith laughed. "You don't think I invited you here to insult you by offering your brother the part?"

  Max blinked, feeling like a dog jerked hard on a leash. "Um?"

  Lowering her voice, she clasped his hand and tilted forward on the table. "Isabelle wants Peter, but I'm more interested in you. You would make a great Henry." She drew circles in his spilled tea on the table. "But, as director, I do have to keep an open mind and pursue every interesting possibility I can."

  He kept silent, waiting for Judith to drop the other shoe. On his head.

  "I thought you and I could chat for a bit," she continued. "Establish a good relationship. That might go a way towards convincing Isabelle I should have you for my Henry."

  "OK." He should feel relief. He still had a shot at Henry. A good shot too, if Judith was telling the truth. So why did his gut feel all shivery with anxiety?

  A crash of glass followed by swearing made him whip around. He was just in time to see Tierney shoot out of the booth and barrel through the bathroom door, her hand over her mouth. Nicola's Asian friend trailed after her, clasping two purses in her hands.

  Lachlan and Nicola rose on wobbly feet to follow the other two. As they slipped out of the booth, the Brit sidled closer to Nicola. His arm fell easily, companionably around Nicola's shoulders. Instead of heading toward the restrooms, they walked out the front door together.