Changing the Script (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Fae Mallory

  She held his gaze, his brown eyes liquid in the dim light. The moment her own lungs began to feel uncomfortably tight, she loosened the tie, allowing him a breath. “Kick me if it gets to be too much,” she prompted, waiting for him to nod before she pulled the tie tight again.

  Robert shuddered, slumping forward, and Izzy stepped closer to support him with her own body so he didn’t put undue pressure on his arms or the fragile set. Knowing Robert, he would be more upset about damage done to the stage than damage to himself. Izzy wasn’t willing to risk either one. His chest pressed against hers, feeling almost feverishly hot through his thin cotton shirt, and she slipped her free hand beneath his jacket to rub his back, soothing his trembling muscles.

  “I’ve got you,” she murmured, watching as his lips parted soundlessly.

  Allowing him another breath, she asked, “Is this all right?”

  “Yes,” he agreed, his voice a breathless whimper.

  “Good,” she praised, rubbing her nose against his as she restricted his breathing. Robert’s eyes were huge and glassy, filled with more peace than she’d ever seen there before. She was giving him something he needed, and nothing had ever made Izzy prouder. When he leaned harder on her, she pulled back to examine his face for any sign of distress, but his lips were curved in a contented smile.

  Even so, she couldn’t risk him falling. Releasing her hold on the tie, she caught his upper arms. “On your knees.”

  With her helping to balance him, Robert knelt. Izzy followed him down, the wooden stage feeling warm beneath her. “Are you still all right? Nudge me with your knee if you need to stop.”

  He raised his eyebrows in a look of disbelief that made her giggle as she tightened the tie. “Just checking.”

  With one arm around Robert and her other hand on the tie, Izzy could feel the exact moment when he started to tense up. This time she held on a little longer, letting it be uncomfortable for him before allowing him a ragged breath. “You’re doing beautifully,” she praised, and he hummed in contentment, letting his forehead rest against hers, his long hair caressing her temples.

  Izzy watched his face carefully, experimenting to see just how tightly she could pull and how long she could hold on before the skin around his eyes tightened in distress. With their bodies pressed together, she could feel his heart hammering in his chest, Robert completely at her mercy. If she wanted to, she could cut off his air supply until he blacked out, and she was beginning to suspect that he would make no move to stop her. He was putting his life in her hands, and the power she had over him left her dizzy.

  This time she held her breath with him, waiting until her lungs were burning and her eyes watering before pulling the tie completely free and casting it to the ground next to them as Robert slumped forward, his head coming to rest on her shoulder as he gasped for air.

  “I’m so proud of you,” Izzy crooned, stroking his sweaty hair away from his face so he could cool down and catch his breath. In her arms, he was shaking violently, and she caressed his shoulders and back, easing him through the transition. Once he felt a little calmer, she reached behind him, fumbling to fit the handcuff key into the lock without releasing him.

  Once his wrists were free, Robert all but fell into her lap, and Izzy gathered his limp form close, the blissful smile on his face keeping her from panic. “All right?”

  “Perfect,” he sighed, his voice hoarse.

  Unwilling to do anything that would remind him of his earlier distress about the show, Izzy just held him, pressing gentle kisses to his forehead until his skin started to cool beneath her lips. “I’ve got you,” she promised, wishing that they could lie together like this always. Robert’s glazed eyes drifted closed, and Izzy adjusted their position until he was lying with his head in her lap, her hand making slow circles on his chest as he dozed, feeling the rush of his breath beneath her fingertips. Only minutes ago, he’d breathed only with her permission. It was already starting to feel unreal.

  She let him sleep until six-thirty, her own exhaustion having left her. Instead she passed the hours watching over Robert as he slept, studying the movement of his face as his eyelids twitched in his dreams. With a gentle hand, Izzy caressed his throat until he relaxed, the lines around his eyes easing. He lay so trustingly in her lap that she hated to wake him.

  Wake him she must. Letting her hand slip to his shoulder, she shook him gently, trying not to pull him out of sleep too quickly. When his eyes blinked open, she smiled down at him. “Hey.”

  Robert’s eyes smiled up at her before he started, his body jolting as he woke more fully. “You’re okay,” Izzy assured him. “It’s morning.”

  “I guess I wasn’t dreaming,” he remarked in a low voice, and Izzy wasn’t sure what to make of his tone.

  “I assumed that you’d want to shower and change before rehearsal,” Izzy said as he sat up, dragging himself off the stage floor with a wince. “I know I do. We’ve got a lot to do today.”

  Robert ran his hands over himself, brushing the wrinkles out of his suit. “Back to business, I see.”

  There was something lurking in his tone that made Izzy’s stomach clench with nervousness. Deciding that sticking to neutral topics was her safest route, she started to chatter about her plans for the day’s rehearsal. “I think I’m going to put Leslie on headset today and let her call the cues to make sure she knows what she’s doing. I’ll sit with her of course. Before we start, I’ll check with Ginny about those last costume alterations—”

  “Do whatever you think necessary.” Robert cut her off mid-sentence, leaving the stage without a backward glance.

  From her position on the stage, Izzy watched him stalk to the back of the theater and through the doors, the line of his shoulders tight, and her stomach fell. Last night had been so intimate that she was certain they’d make a breakthrough in their relationship, but Robert couldn’t get away from her fast enough. She’d pushed him too far, and now he regretted what had happened. Did he feel that she’d taken advantage of him?

  Eyes stinging, she gathered up the discarded handcuffs and put them in her purse, afraid that Leslie, the assistant stage manager she was training to run the show once she and Robert were done with it, would get to the theater early and start asking uncomfortable questions.

  A strip of blue caught her eye, and Izzy swallowed hard as she picked up Robert’s tie—the same tie she’d used to restrict his breathing only hours ago. Throat tight, she buried her face in the silk, breathing in the faded scent of his expensive cologne and the musk of his skin, a sob breaking free of her throat.

  She was being ridiculous, Izzy scolded herself. She’d made a mistake and now she was paying the price. She had no right to feel sorry for herself when Robert was the one who’d been hurt by her actions. Even if she did have that right, she didn’t have the time. Rehearsal started in less than an hour and a half and she had a thousand things she needed to do before that could happen. Wiping angrily at her wet cheeks, she stuffed Robert’s tie into her purse and left the theater, determined to be the exemplary stage manager she’d always been in an effort to regain his trust.

  Chapter 6

  The last two days of rehearsal were such a whirlwind that Izzy could almost pretend that Robert wasn’t giving her the silent treatment.

  He was a consummate professional during rehearsals, which set Izzy’s teeth on edge. Robert had never played the dignified director with her, even at the beginning of their association. Almost from the moment he’d hired her, he’d barged into every part of her life, demanding her undivided attention, giving unsolicited advice, and making ridiculous jokes. Now he would speak of nothing but the show, going so far as to walk away from her when she haltingly tried to apologize for hurting him.

  She’d left the booth the instant he told the crew to take a break, barely catching him on his way out the door. “About last night,” she began, knowing that no words could ever make up the breach of trust. “I—”

  “Forget it,” he
dismissed, using his cane to ease her out of his way so he could brush past her without making any physical contact, an action that spoke more clearly of his frame of mind than mere words could express. Swallowing tears, Izzy let him go without protest, knowing that she had no right to intrude on his personal space if he didn’t want her here.

  Looking up, she saw their set designer, Jon, looking at her, the burly man having seen the entire thing. “What’s that about?” he asked, coming to her side.

  There was nothing she could say that wouldn’t be a violation of Robert’s privacy. “He’s just under a lot of pressure.”

  “I don’t know why. You do all the work,” Jon said, tickling her affectionately under her chin. “Let’s get you some coffee.”

  Izzy went willingly, glad to let Jon distract her from Robert’s cold behavior and her own thoughts. The set designer had been with them for a year now, and she knew that his rough exterior hid a tender heart. Although nearly every inch of his exposed skin besides his face was covered in tattoos, Jon was a gentle man who volunteered at a local animal shelter, fostering abused cats until they were socialized enough to be adopted into forever homes. He had a ready laugh, his face turning as red as his hair when he was in high humor, and Izzy was glad to count him as a friend.

  When he first joined the crew, he’d made a few tentative overtures toward her, but Izzy was so hung up on Robert that she’d declined, a rejection he’d taken with good grace. Now, with Jon fixing her a cup of coffee made exactly how she liked it and plying her with stories about his most recent cat who’d taken to pouncing on his head to wake him in the morning, she wished she’d given him a chance. Maybe if she had, she wouldn’t be in the mess she was now.

  With Jon’s help she managed to regain control of her emotions. Robert needed time and space, and she had to give it to him. In the meantime, she would do her job as well as she could, doing everything in her power to keep things running smoothly for him.

  “Thanks, Jon,” she sighed when the break drew to a close, leaning up to kiss his stubbled cheek.

  An almighty crash made her jump, and Izzy looked up to see Robert glaring at the two of them from the center of the auditorium, his cane clenched in his fist. “If you two are finished wasting time?” he prompted in a voice etched with acid.

  Lowering her head, Izzy scurried back up to the booth, taking her place beside Leslie, who had yet to make a mistake in calling the show. The other woman was doing so well that she briefly toyed with calling out sick for the next day and a half of rehearsal, cursing herself for the thought. It was bad enough that she’d hurt Robert. She couldn’t let this affect their professional relationship.

  Somehow they made it through the last dress rehearsal without ever saying two words to each other that weren’t strictly about the show, and Izzy was glad when opening day finally came. Robert was tied up in interviews for most of the day, saving her the stress of trying to find a balance between giving him space and being on hand to problem solve. With her own duties to distract her, she barely saw him until he called the cast and crew together before the show to give his traditional opening night pep talk.

  “Two months ago this show existed only in my head, and with your talent and your passion you brought it to life.” As he spoke, Robert made eye contact with each and every member of the cast and crew, his voice low and intense.

  “I guided you to this point, but tonight my influence ends. This is your show now.” Izzy, sandwiched between Ginny and Jon, held her breath as he worked his way down the line, drawing each person in with his hypnotic gaze. He was nearing the end of the line of actors, and in a matter of moments he would be forced to meet her eyes.

  “I shared my vision with you, and now you’re going to share it with the world. Go out there and show everyone what you can do.” Izzy choked back a sob as his gaze slid from Ginny to Jon, moving past her as though she was invisible to him, the sound drowned out by a round of applause as Robert held his hands out to them and bowed his head, symbolically handing over the show.

  “You okay?” Jon whispered.

  Clenching her fists, Izzy concentrated on breathing. “Yeah. I’m going to head up to the booth.”

  She could feel eyes against her back as she fled the room and headed for the safety of the booth, but no one followed her, and Izzy was relieved to have a few minutes to herself before the rest of the techies joined her. This was an untenable situation. Robert’s anger was like a knife between her ribs. She couldn’t go to work every day and sit beside him, speaking of nothing but their work and wondering when he’d choose to twist the knife. They either had to fix this or she would have to move on and find another director.

  The weight of that thought pressed down on her, Izzy’s shoulders bowing under the strain, and she was relieved when the rest of the crew joined her to run their pre-show checks. Concentrating on breathing, Izzy listened to them chatter about the cast party that would follow the show, the celebration sounding as appealing as a visit to the gallows. With the house lights up and the background music playing, there was nothing more she could do until the curtain rose, and Izzy bided her time picturing Robert sitting in the back of the house, waiting to see the results of his work. For his sake, she hoped they didn’t disappoint him.

  When the curtain opened, Izzy lost herself in the rhythm of the show, keeping half of her attention on Leslie to make sure the other woman didn’t miss any cues while the rest of her paid attention to the audience. Although she was too far away to pick up on individual reactions, the energy coming from the house was positive, and people were laughing in the right places. By the time they brought the lights up for intermission, she was cautiously optimistic that they had another hit on their hands.

  The second half of the show was Kathryn’s showcase, and the actress brought the house down with her performance of a mentally ill woman struggling to distinguish between reality and hallucination during a visit from her in-laws, her light touch keeping the serious subject matter from becoming preachy without being flippant. Robert had been right. She was perfect for the role.

  By the time the curtain fell, the audience was on their feet and cheering wildly, and Izzy smiled as she watched the cast pull Robert onto the stage to present him with flowers and insist that he take a bow as well. It was Izzy’s habit to join him, but tonight she remained where she was, not wanting to interrupt his moment of triumph by reminding him of her existence. He looked happy as he accepted his bouquet of roses, and she wanted to keep it that way.

  Izzy took her time putting things in order after the show so Leslie would have an easy time of it the following night, more than half-tempted to skip the after-party altogether. Scrambled eggs in her apartment sounded more appealing than putting on a brave face and pretending that Robert didn’t hate her, but her absence would be noticed. It would be better to put in a quick appearance and leave early, pleading a migraine, than to force him to explain why she wasn’t there. She’d just do everything in her power to avoid him until she could make her excuses and leave.

  With shaking hands she slipped into an unused dressing room to change out of her black ensemble into the midnight blue lace dress she’d bought for the occasion weeks ago. At the time, the scandalously short hemline had seemed playful and daring, but now Izzy wished she’d purchased something less overtly sexual. The neckline was high and straight, skimming across her collarbones, but the decorous effect was belied by the cutout exposing her entire back. Izzy twisted up her chestnut curls and applied just a hint of mascara, staring at herself in the mirror. The color of the dress brought out her eyes, making them look enormous in her pale face. Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, she tried to smile, practicing the expression until she looked less like a deer in headlights. As ready to go as she’d ever be, Izzy slipped on her heels and stuffed her blacks into her bag before making her way to the art gallery they always rented for such events.

  The event space was on the second floor, and she made her way up the
narrow staircase, hearing laughter and music coming from above her. Clearly the party was in full swing, which should make things easier. She’d arranged for canapés and a bartender as well as for music, so with those distractions, it should be easy enough to find something to do as far as possible from Robert.

  “Izzy!” Jon shouted as soon as she opened the door. “I was about to give up on you.”

  “I had a few things to finish up,” she explained, taking a grateful swallow of the beer he pressed into her hand.

  “You should have told me. I could have helped,” he scolded.

  Looking up into his ruddy face, she tried to smile. Jon would have willingly skipped free food and alcohol to help a friend, and yet again, Izzy wished she hadn’t already given her heart away when she met him. As covertly as she could, Izzy looked around the room, her heart clenching when she saw Robert standing not ten feet away from her, his arm tight around Kathryn’s waist. The blonde had her hand on his shoulder as she leaned in to whisper in his ear, tall enough not to have to strain to do so like Izzy did. With her willowy figure and Robert’s elegant posture, they made a strikingly beautiful couple, and Izzy wished she could find it in her to be happy for him as he turned his face to brush his lips against hers.

  “Hey,” Jon murmured, putting his arm around her. “What’s wrong?”

  Pinching her lips together, Izzy shook her head, afraid that she’d cry if she tried to speak. Jon nodded in understanding and drew her off to the side, leading her out onto the fire escape where she sucked in deep breaths of the cool night air, the noise of the party fading away behind them.

  “I’ve got broad shoulders,” Jon informed her, smiling a little at her blank look. “If you want to cry on them.”

  Izzy put down her beer on the grating and wrapped her hands around the metal railing, squeezing tight as she stared blindly out into the night. “You’re such a good friend.”