by Lynn Stevens
“Yes, he does. This is his fault.” I crossed my arms, waiting for Gracin to come to my aid.
“Hey, Gracin,” Miranda said as she stuck her head under Luke’s arm. “How’s it going?”
Gracin glanced at each of us in turn, finally settling back on me. “Are we having a Reynolds party or something?”
I rolled my eyes. “Only if you want the show to go off without a hitch tonight.”
“Carly has a hot date after the show, and she wants Miranda to help her tonight.” Luke crossed his arms in an effort to fill the entire door. Miranda ducked under his elbow and gave him her best dirty look. “I, however, don’t think it’s such a good idea.”
Gracin glanced around again before settling his gaze on mine. I thought I saw a twinkle in there before his eyes went blank. “Hot date, huh? Do I know him?”
My face burned, and I hoped it didn’t show. “Nope. You’ve never met Denny.”
Luke said something, but I didn’t hear a word. Gracin and I were locked in a silent battle. My anger dissipated as I willed him to see the real me again. If he would only face the truth, we’d be great together. Even if it was only for a few months, it would be everything.
“Carly!” Luke shouted, breaking the stalemate. “I asked if that’s the same Denny –”
“The one and the same,” I said, crossing my arms. Gracin turned around and faced his vanity, but his eyes found mine in the mirror. “He’s taking me to some fancy cocktail party after the show.”
“What happened to Jonathan?” Luke asked out of nowhere. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t seen “Jonathan” at the theater or even heard his name since the barbecue. Sometimes my brother was as bad as the worst blonde joke.
Gracin fought the smile and lost as half of the grin broke through. The twinkle I’d thought I’d seen earlier was definitely there as we stared at one another in the mirror.
Our little secret. The idea threw me. Ours. Mine and Gracin’s. The ache in my heart grew. I wanted more from him. More than one moment when we pretended to be something or, at least, let people believe we were anyway. It wasn’t enough. I wouldn’t smile with him. It wasn’t slightly amusing.
“Jonathan left,” I whispered. The pain overwhelmed me, and a small tear slipped from the corner of my eye. “He didn’t want … He couldn’t handle …” I shook it off. There was no reason to finish what I wanted to say. The smile left Gracin’s face, and I mouthed the last word anyway. “Me.”
“That’s too bad. He seemed like a nice guy,” Luke said.
I tore my eyes away from Gracin and turned toward my brother. “Don’t you have something better to do? We’ve got a show to get ready for.”
Luke looked like I’d slapped him in the face. “As long as Mr. Ford is okay with your … alterations for the evening.”
“It’s fine,” Gracin said through gritted teeth. He focused on cracking his knuckles.
“Come on, Miranda. I’ll show you what I need you to do.” I took Miranda by the arm and led her past Luke into the hallway.
“Bye, Gracin,” she called over her shoulder. Once we were free from the prying ears of Luke, she whispered, “Who’s Jonathan?”
I grimaced, but answered her honestly. “He’s this guy I really liked, but he didn’t want to hang out with me.”
Miranda snorted. “Geez, Carly, how many guys can you fall for in one summer?”
Just one.
∞ ∞ ∞
Miranda did better than I expected. While I managed everything from Gracin’s dressing room, she ran back and forth to grab costume changes from me and whatever else Gracin suddenly needed. I had the set list memorized down to the last crash of the cymbals, so I knew the second-to-last song before a brief intermission was four and a half minutes long. Just the right amount of time to shower.
Grandfather Reynolds had renovated the theater with the intention of having Broadway shows perform. Some actors’ guild required that all theaters performing with dancers had to have showers, so Grandfather had put them in. Unfortunately, the cost to produce a show of Broadway caliber was too much, and he’d abandoned the idea after the first full season. Even with sellout crowds, the theater had lost money that year.
The hot water drained the tension from my body. I was downright schizophrenic lately. Part of me wanted to show Gracin what he was missing out on; the other part wanted to beg him to give me a chance to make him happy. One minute, I was pissed at his attitude, the next I was googly-eyed over him. I needed to get myself together.
I raced back to the dressing room a moment before Miranda burst in.
“He wants something … God, I forgot what it is!” Her face reddened as her eyes darted around the dressing room. She started toward the pile of clothes on the floor by the wardrobe.
“Meerkat, stop!” I snapped before she ruined my organized chaos. “Think. What did he say?”
Her eyes screwed up, and she stuck her lower lip out in a pout. “I don’t …”
“Okay, here,” I shoved the next costume change into her hands. “Was he freaking out? Calm? Angry?”
“Freaking out, I think. Why?”
I rushed to the fridge and grabbed his spritzer bottle filled with water and lavender oil Gracin sniffed to calm down. Even though it was a crock, he believed it worked, and it was all that mattered. I put the bottle in her outstretched hand. “Shake this on your way down. Don’t spray him yourself. He hates that. And if this isn’t what he wanted, tell him I said it was better. He won’t yell at you then.”
“Okay,” she said as she ran out the door.
The rest of the night went smooth. By the time the show ended, I was ready for the party. I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. This wasn’t my style, but I kind of liked the way I looked. Mom wasn’t getting this dress back any time soon.
I twirled and watched the skirt billow perfectly.
“Wow.”
I almost spun myself to the floor at the sound of his voice. Gracin stood in the doorway with Miranda peeking around his arm.
“Oh my God, Carly!” Miranda squealed. She pushed Gracin out of the way and rushed over to me. “You look amazing. Denny’s gonna flip. Don’t you think so, Gracin?”
I didn’t want to meet his gaze since I could feel it burning its way to my soul, but I did. Like earlier, our eyes locked and a silent battle began. My side pleaded for a chance, while his side said no. I needed to let this go.
“He’s a lucky guy,” Gracin said quietly. He moved toward the dressing table and grabbed his stuff for the shower. “Clean up later, Carly. Thanks for helping, Miranda. You can head out. Luke’s supposed to meet you by the security door in five.”
Gracin left the room without giving me another glance. Maybe this dress was a mistake. Hell, this whole experience was a mistake.
For the first time in my life, I regretted doing something stupid. If only I’d realized how drunk Ivy was when she got behind the wheel of Dad’s Mercedes, I wouldn’t be in this position.
I roamed the theater for twenty minutes, wondering what to do. A couple of the grips gave me catcalls. While it made me smile, it didn’t make me feel any better. I’d never been this gaga over a guy before, and quite frankly, it scared me. Weighing the pros and cons didn’t help either. If Gracin and I hooked up, it wouldn’t survive my move to Nashville for school or his move back to L.A. The long-distance thing wouldn’t work for either one of us. Where would that leave us at the end of summer? Right where we already were. What if we went for it and he decided we totally sucked together? Could I keep doing my job for the rest of the summer without making myself miserable? What if we went for it and I decided we sucked together? After being the pursuer, could I tell him it wasn’t working? Everything screamed “this won’t work, so don’t even try.”
Then there was the fact that he’d rejected me.
Why do you keep doing this to yourself, Carly? The guy said no. Accept that he doesn’t want you and move on. It’s the only wa
y to get over it. Call Denny tomorrow.
I went back to Gracin’s dressing room determined to be his friend and nothing more. When I opened the door that thought almost shot out the heating vents. Gracin stood in front of the mirror with his jacket opened and the top three buttons of his shirt undone. He looked like he belonged in a spy movie, not in Branson.
“Wow,” I whispered to myself.
He turned around, and I realized this was almost the exact same scenario from earlier.
“Hey.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. Forget spy movie, he belonged on the cover of a magazine. “Tie or no tie?”
“No tie.” I tore my eyes away from him and walked over to the vanity where I’d left the black sparkly clutch I’d liberated from Mom’s collection. She’d never miss that either. “We should go.”
Gracin nodded but turned back toward the mirror. He took his hands out of his pockets and smoothed the lapel. “I … Thank you for coming tonight.” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. After an exhale to the ten count, he opened them and faced me. “I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and I’m not going to lie to you.”
The anxiety rolled off of him and onto me. I stepped closer to him and put my hand on his arm. “Whatever’s going on, you can tell me.”
He smiled sadly, and I wondered if I was the problem. I realized then that my unwanted advances as well as the pressures of his father among Lord only knew how many other things might push him over the edge. “Are you worried about falling off the wagon?” I whispered.
Gracin closed his eyes and nodded. “Sometimes I wish I could feel that lack of control again and forget it the next day. It’s almost worth the hangover.”
My hand slid down his arm, and my fingers entangled with his. I squeezed gently. “Don’t worry, Jonathan. I’ve got your back.”
Gracin smiled and squeezed my hand back. “Thank you, Carly.”
“That’s what friends do.” I tried to smile, but even I knew it didn’t look genuine. “We’re friends, right?”
“Friends.” His smile faded. “Right.”
∞ ∞ ∞
We didn’t talk or even sing along with Johnny Cash on the way to Andy River’s house. Gracin let the GPS guide him to the luxurious home on the side of a mountain south of town. Everyone in Branson knew where Andy River lived, but we respected his privacy and didn’t trespass. Unless it was a wild high school dare involving alcohol, but I’d only done it once my sophomore year. Dad wasn’t too happy about it either. Stupid security cameras. At least, Andy hadn’t pressed charges.
The sounds of a piano and laughter floated through the door. Gracin’s tension tightened his shoulders, pulling them almost to his ears. I reached out and put my hand in his. Seeing him this nervous bothered me. Gracin was proud, confident, and cocky when he was in performer mode. When he was just being himself, he was sweet and lovable. Nervous Gracin was totally out of character. I had to remind myself there was a reason, and a damned good one.
Gracin slid his hand out of mine. My heart leapt into my throat, making it hard to breathe. This was just another rejection. He clenched his fist tight before ringing the doorbell. It opened before the melody, Andy River’s number one hit song “Born to the Stars,” ended. Standing before us was the towering butler-slash-bodyguard who hopefully didn’t remember me. He stared at me for a moment and lifted an eyebrow.
“Ringing the doorbell this time and staying, Miss Reynolds? That’s not your style.” His voice rolled down my spine, leaving chills in its wake.
I cocked my head to the right. “Come on, Jeeves, that was three years ago. Can’t a girl grow?”
Much to my surprise, he smiled before turning his attention to Gracin. “Mr. Ford, welcome. I hope you’re keeping a tight leash on this one here. She’s a wildcat.”
Instead of relaxing, Gracin’s shoulders tightened more. “That she is.”
Jeeves stepped back to let us in. He leaned down and whispered. “Despite growing, I will be keeping a close eye on you this evening. Have no doubt about that. And my name isn’t Jeeves.”
I smirked and glanced at Jeeves. His serious expression made snakes coil in my stomach. One thing I planned on leaving behind in Branson was my “stellar” reputation.
Gracin made his way into the main parlor where Andy River sat at the piano beside a stunning blonde. Her fingers danced across the keys as a concerto filled the room. Andy beamed at the woman, his smile giving Liberace’s a run for the money. His silver hair sparkled beneath the large chandelier. The one thing that stood out about him, and always had, was the color white. He wore nothing but white, and his house reflected the same. The only other colors accenting the room were silver and gold. Must be a bitch to clean.
The who’s who of Branson strolled in and out of the room. I spotted at least three performers from the horse show down the road from our theater. A waiter stopped before us with flutes of champagne. Gracin took one automatically. I shook my head at the waiter and he moved on. The tension just grew around Gracin. I knew he wasn’t thinking when he took the flute. That’s why I was here, really. To stop this from happening. The minute any alcohol hit his lips, he would fall. At least, that’s what he believed.
I put my hand around his on the delicate stem. His eyes snapped down and widened when he realized what was in his hand. He lessened his grip, letting me take it from him.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
I set the glass on a nearby table, almost wishing I could take a sip to calm my nerves. “I’ll go to the bar and get some club soda for you. The waiters will leave you alone if you’ve got a glass in your hands.”
He nodded and faced the room. Someone came up to him with his hand out, ready to introduce himself. Frank Eaton, one-time manager of has-been country star Cody Clark, talked my father to sleep once. Gracin would be occupied for at least twenty minutes. Frank had to take a breath by then.
I kept Gracin in my sights while I stood at the bar, waiting patiently for the bartender to turn around. Frank seemed to be listening to Gracin, which was odd, but nice. The tension eased from Gracin’s shoulder the longer the conversation went on.
“Hey, Carly. Funny seeing you here,” a sweet tenor voice said. I turned to face Sam Wilbright. “How’s it going?”
“Great, Sam. How’ve you been?” If my eyes betrayed my shock, Sam didn’t show it. Back in high school, he’d been awkwardly thin with thick glasses and bad hair. He’d gained some weight, making him appear more athletic than gangly, and his thick dark hair was styled in a faux hawk. The glasses were gone, revealing bright green eyes. It was kind of hot. Four years out of high school could change a person for the better.
“Doing well. How’s the family?” Sam wiped down the counter while he talked.
“The family’s great. Luke’s running the theater this summer under Dad’s watchful eye.” Even though Luke and Sam weren’t besties, they’d been somewhat friendly in high school. “What’s up with you?”
“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Just working for the summer before heading back to school.” Sam caught someone’s attention over my shoulder. “Your boyfriend’s giving us the stink eye.”
I turned around to meet Gracin’s glare. He was still talking with Frank Eaton, but his eyes never left me. I nodded and faced Sam again. “He’s not my boyfriend. Can I get a club soda with lots of ice?”
“Sure.” Sam grabbed a thick glass and tossed the ice in. As he reached for the club soda, he asked, “So, if he’s not your boyfriend, who is he?”
I laughed. That was a great question. “That’s Gracin Ford. I’m his personal assistant for the summer.”
Sam smiled at me. “You? A personal assistant? I thought Carly Reynolds did what she wanted when she wanted.”
I knew when a guy was flirting with me, and Sam was definitely flirting. I raised my eyebrows and smirked, taking the glass he’d set on the bar and walking away with a little more swing in my hips. When I glanced back at him, Sam was totally staring. His gr
in widened as our eyes met.
“– at least, that’s what I’m seeing,” Frank Eaton finished as I stopped beside Gracin. “Ah, Carly Reynolds, correct? Your father’s talked quite a bit about you.”
My first question was why, but I skipped saying it. Whatever Dad needed to do to schmooze wasn’t any of my concern. I turned on the charm. “All good I hope.”
Frank laughed. I glanced up at Gracin who stared at me like he’d never seen me before. “What?” I mouthed.
He shook his head and sipped the club soda I’d handed him.
“Yes, all good. If you don’t mind, I’d like to steal Gracin from you for a few minutes. There are some people I’d like him to meet.” Frank’s smile never left his face, but there was something predatory about it. He was up to something.
“Be my guest,” I responded. After all, there was a cute guy at the bar who was more than willing to chat with me.
I turned back toward Sam, but the bar was packed. Jeeves caught my attention by the front door. He was true to his word. His eyes locked with mine, and I smiled. Maybe I could cause a little trouble to keep him on his toes. I slowly made my way through the crowd, searching for something that would freak Jeeves out a bit. Without paying much attention, I’d found myself in a dining room larger than the lobby at the theater. Twenty people could sit at the table and there’d still be room for twenty more.
Gracin stood in the corner with Frank and two gorgeous blonde women, including the one who’d been playing the piano when I walked in. I stayed out of his line of sight and watched. The tension he’d carried with him early had left his body. But it moved into mine when blondie number two put her hand on Gracin’s arm for longer than necessary. Polite touching was one thing, but this chick wasn’t just being polite. And the glow in Gracin’s cheeks told me he liked it.
I needed to get over this shit fast. Gracin had tried to ruin any chance I had with Denny, not like it wasn’t reparable, but Sam was here and I was pretty sure willing. Taking a deep breath, I moved back toward the bar, giving up on my quest to make Jeeves miserable. Two waiters stood at the bar while Sam filled their trays with champagne flutes.