Sharing Backstage

by Paige Parsons

  “How can you look at me, be with me again, knowing that?”

  “I wasn’t with you because you were perfect. You’re not, by the way. I was with you because I love you. Period.” Leaning in closely, Lucas embraced her from behind to whisper in her ear. “Besides, the next time I have you bent over that shop table, driving into you so hard that you’re holding on for dear life and hardly able to catch your breath, I don’t think I’ll have to worry about you thinking about sex with Jeff ever again.”

  “Soon?” Harper almost couldn’t get the word out. Her breathing suddenly labored, and that time it wasn’t out of fear, but anticipation.

  “Oh, so soon.” Turning her back to face him, Lucas continued. “I’ve been distant so I wouldn’t scare you off again.”

  “Well, you did scare me off, but not the way you think. I got scared because—because even though what we had was working, I didn’t think it should have worked. I shouldn’t have wanted it or accepted it. I guess I thought I had worked through my issues and accepted who I was in our relationship, but every time it came up, I was more resentful than accepting. I kind of know better now, mostly.”

  “Who told you that? No one dictates what works for two people in a relationship, except those two people. Didn’t your mom and Cliff prove that? You gave her every reason to let him go, but she made it clear she wouldn’t. She found something that made her happy, and even if you weren’t ready for her to have that happiness, in that way she was, and she held on. You just needed to hold on.”

  “I didn’t know how. I still can’t promise that I do. Running is pretty habit forming.”

  “Oh, I have some habit breaking methods, baby girl. What are you smiling about? Have you forgotten already?”

  “No. No, I haven’t. I’ve missed hearing you call me that, that’s all.”

  The barking of police dogs and muffled arguments were headed in their direction. Harper moved closer to Lucas than she had been through most of their conversation. Both officers had a person in cuffs they were escorting. It looked like they might be a couple, from the way they spoke. The man was trying to calm the woman down. It was hard to tell age through the grime and layers of clothes, but they didn’t seem older. She was crying to the point of sobbing, and Harper suddenly wasn’t as scared as she was sad. Her feet moved toward them of their own volition, and Lucas had to pull her back from making an approach.

  “Harper, no.”

  “She sounds so scared. They needed a place to stay. Now I’m sorry we called the cops.”

  “Are you kidding me? Remember how scared you sounded, like, ten minutes ago? Stay put.”

  Once the officers got them in their cars, they came over to get more information from Lucas and Harper, leaving them with an incident report for the theatre to follow up on. To her relief, Harper found out they were nowhere near her office. They were found hiding in the pit of the main theatre. Apparently, it was not their first overnight. There hadn’t been a musical done in months, and it was an easy place to hole up in until everyone was gone. Lucas had been right; they were only in need of shelter. It was almost a clean end to an evening of unpleasantness and revelations until the officer mentioned getting the side door lock checked because it hadn’t latched all the way. Even though it wasn’t how the pair had made the entry, it was an invitation to other unwanted guests. With that little bombshell dropped. they climbed into their cars and drove off.

  “I checked that door, Lucas, I swear.”

  “I’ll double check it before we leave, and we will be re-walking the space and reviewing lock-up procedures, again. We are done here tonight, though.”

  “The proofreading still needs to happen. Deadlines are deadlines.”

  “Harper, can this not be put off?”

  “Nope.”

  “Fine. Can we be out of here before sun up?”

  “Probably. I got half done, and it’s more double checking than an original edit, so it should go quickly.”

  “Okay, we stay in my office, and there’s no roaming the building alone.”

  “You plan on taking me to the potty, Lucas?”

  She was being a smart ass, but his reply held no humor. “Damn straight. Now let’s go lock up your office and bring everything over to mine.”

  Harper hadn’t focused on the fact that she was still holding his hand, but when she looked down at their entwined fingers, she knew it was right. Lucas was handling things, and it didn’t bother her at all.

  Chapter 16

  Present

  Galas and Fresh Starts

  Harper checked herself one last time in the ladies’ dressing room before meeting with everyone on stage for a final pep talk from Riley and a one-hundredth checklist review from her. She drove everyone crazy with her list, but seeing the items get checked off had gone a long way to helping her keep her sanity over the last several weeks. Being wound too tight was a generous way of describing her personality and behavior over the last week and a half.

  The party portion of the gala ran smoother than she could’ve hoped for when she started this process, and she’d learned a lot. Even her mother was appreciative of her new knowledge surrounding place settings and centerpieces. Normally, Harper’s contributions to family functions, when or if she ever made them, was paper goods or wine. Basically, anything she could pick up en route.

  The theatre mommies and grandmas were a lifesaver. Handcrafted beautiful centerpieces were made far under budget and helped to transform the tented ballroom into a field of heather. Donated glass blown vases that doubled as silent auction pieces were alternately filled with floral arrangements, floating candles, or glass baubles that reflected the hundred plus strands of lights strung throughout the tent like vines winding up a trellis. Supplemental decorations for the various silent auction locations were eye-catching without being over the top, and details like calligraphy seat markers for distinguished guests added a nice personal touch. Harper walked through the space every night before she left and was in awe of the progress that had taken place between the time she left the previous night and her return. Her auxiliary party committee was comprised of some true party hosting dynamos, and she was lucky to have them.

  Even the coordinator for the youth portion of the dining entertainment had his acts ready to go, his cost under control, and his special requests to a minimum. On the other side of the building, with the so-called adults, she was in a never ending battle of the unknown diva. Harper would remind herself, while she was on the phone or in a meeting, that production managers didn’t lose their cool. It was why Riley had hired her—extreme grace under pressure. Sometimes, though, that pressure valve broke, and Harper became an eruption of steam.

  The cost-effective, original performance was the thing that kept spiraling out of control. As soon as she reigned in one designer’s vision to go along with the established budget, then another one would call with a request for something he just had to have. It was like they didn’t understand that this show was all about bringing in money and not losing it. She knew what the budget was, and she knew how much wiggle room she had within it, but convincing a director or a designer with a vision was always easier said than done. Riley only had to step in once, when Bob had decided the finale needed pyrotechnics. Harper had been so livid with his condescending tone and refusal to hear reason that when she told him to hold on, it was just so she could transfer the call to her boss, like she didn’t understand artistry or vision. No, he didn’t understand budgets or the word no. Even after she’d transferred the call, her blood was still boiling. Bob could be a taskmaster as a director and, where he coddled actors, he treated his crew like minions, always barking orders and rarely caring how that got his request accomplished. His end product was brilliant, so his ways were tolerated. Harper just hadn’t been in the mood.

  She would’ve thrown the phone across the room, but she knew how long it would take to get it replaced. Screaming her outrage was her alternative plan.

  “What an egomani
acal fucker! Who the hell does he think he is? He’s a director, not the second coming. Riley better get him under control—”

  Her door opened and closed quickly, with the loud click of the lock connecting. When her pacing turned her toward it, Harper saw Lucas standing there, arms crossed, and a penetrating glare.

  “You ever hear of knocking?”

  “I doubt you would’ve heard me, although anyone coming down this hall could sure hear you. What’s going on, Harper?”

  “Nothing. Forget it.”

  “No, we are not doing this. You say nothing and forget it, and then there’ll be another blow-up. It’s what you do when you don’t deal with things. You don’t get to pretend with me.”

  “When you get your degree in psychology, then you can talk to me about my lack of coping skills.”

  If she had been paying more attention to his movements instead of nursing her rage, Harper would’ve noticed the closing of the blinds on her glass side panel window. Unfortunately for her, she decided to top her tirade by turning her back on her severely perturbed boyfriend. Pressing the full front of his body against her back, Lucas leaned in to whisper in her ear.

  “You have thirty seconds to rethink your last comment and retain your right to talk from an upright position.”

  The hairs the back of her neck began to rise along with the prickles of goose flesh running from the back of her neck and down her arms. It was his closeness and the soft intensity of his voice that kept her from turning around on her own. Her pause to check her own reaction to his words and actions made her reflexes slower than his thirty-second ultimatum.

  “Fine by me,” he said. “Remember, you don’t get to be pissed with me because we’re dealing with this here. You agreed to not let things build up, to stop running, and to talk to me. I’m not willing to go back on my word or let you go back on yours.”

  “I get to have my own thoughts and not share them with you.”

  “Really, Harper? You really want to pretend this is about having private thoughts? You are screaming out loud in the middle of the office and in the middle of the day. I don’t see how you plan on going into rehearsal tonight without blowing up at Bob or, worse, holding it in and coming home to blow up at me.”

  “I don’t lose it with directors.”

  “Exactly. So that means I’ll draw the short straw in the emotional punching bag contest. Last chance, Harper.”

  Harper wasn’t sure what stand she was taking, anymore. Lucas knew what was going on. He just wanted her to talk to him, and she had agreed, but at the moment, it felt like giving in, and she didn’t want to. She wanted his blind support of whatever mood she was in, and his seeming denial of that made her more stubborn than sensible.

  Lucas took her continued silence as the refusal it was obviously meant to convey. He held her between his knees, with her hands clasped in his as he leaned back on her desk. It was hard for him not to admire her chutzpah. She wasn’t going to break eye contact if he wasn’t. As he tipped her over his left thigh, Lucas waited for some type of response, but was met with continued silence. He never did things the easy way, and he would never love an easy woman. Flipping up her peach mini skirt and lowering her panties, Lucas’ breath caught at the beauty of the tanned backside facing him. The greatest gift the Arizona sun offered was keeping the lush, warm toffee hue on his beloved’s backside. A hue he was preparing to turn an entirely different shade. Considering their location and limited time, Lucas started out just under maximum strength.

  Harper’s leg kicked, and she hissed through clenched teeth. Smack after smack landed without either of them speaking a word.

  “This is a job that you love and that you do better than most, but the cost of doing it cannot be your relationships or your health, Harper,” he finally said. “We talk. That’s the rule. No running, no avoiding, and we talk. We can do it over wine, or you can do it over my lap, but we are doing it.”

  “He was being impossible and condescending. Ow! Lucas, stop, and I’ll talk.”

  “You aren’t in a negotiating position, missy!” His hand caught her at the most fragile place on her hind end, where the skin was thinnest at the junction of thigh and buttocks.

  Several more well-placed, sound vibrating contacts had her biting down on her own fist. Harper recalled muffling her sounds for more pleasant reasons not too long before. She continued to whimper as tears began to roll down her cheeks. They might have been finding their way in the dynamic, but Lucas never struggled when it came to delivering a firm warning or lesson. Intellectually, she knew he was right in what he said, and she loved him for following through, in the long term, but at the moment, she was still working through some things in her head.

  “You need to go and talk to Riley and figure out how you’re going to deal with Bob tonight at rehearsal,” he said. “Snarky Harper is just as bad as Harper, the robot stage manager.”

  When her brain reconnected with her emotions, Harper realized that the spanking had stopped and the rubbing had started. That was pleasant. She never minded that part.

  “Harper, I hope you’re listening to me. You can choose to dig your heels in and sit in here stewing all day, but trust me. If you bring it home, I will readdress it and for a lot longer.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Lucas slipped her bright red panties, with the word SASSY printed on them, back up and righted her skirt. In one move, her other end was now upright on his other thigh.

  “Why you gotta be so hard” he asked. “Come here.”

  Harper snuggled in closer and kissed his neck. He’d absolutely ignited a fire in her ass, she for sure wouldn’t even hint otherwise, but she was much more emotionally drained than physically.

  “I wish I was hard, at least my butt,” she said. “It would serve you right if your hand hurt at least as much.”

  “Quit while you’re ahead, sassy. Seriously, you know I know how much of a pain Bob has been and will be right up to the moment the lights hit the stage, but I want you to make it easier on you, not him. I’m not worried about you losing control in rehearsal. I’m worried about the you that shows up afterwards.”

  “I know. I’ve been working on it.”

  “Yes, you have.”

  He praised, kissing the top of head. She was on day three of the curly top messy bun. It was all she had time for the closer the gala got.

  “Was I that loud? I don’t want Riley thinking I’m going to finally lose my shit with him.” Sitting up, Harper pointed to her eyes, without speaking the question.

  “A splash of water and some drops, and you’ll be fine,” he said.

  “Maybe we get some dinner before you go home and I have to submit to another lion.”

  “I’m the only lion you have to submit to; with the rest of them, you only have to play nice.”

  “Maddy is going through— Honestly, I don’t know what is going on with that girl, but we’re going out tonight to try and talk. I at least need her head on straight for this weekend. I might need a break from using her as my assistant.”

  “No bar crawling, Harper. Don’t say you’re not. Maddy has a way of convincing you.”

  “I know she’s too much when I’m suggesting she slow down. It’s not like her, but she won’t talk to me and keeps telling me it’s nothing.”

  “Wow, sounds familiar and frustrating. Hopefully, you can get her to open up.”

  Containing his laughter lasted about two seconds. It took Harper about three to recognize the fact that she had parroted his earlier sentiments so well.

  “Okay, yeah, I heard it, too. Maybe you could—”

  “No chance. This hand is meant for only one backside—yours. I might know someone for the job, though, if it really comes to that.”

  When she opened the door, an indubitably dashing Lucas was waiting to escort her. There he stood in all his finery. It wasn’t often they had occasion to dress up for any reason, and especially not for their work backstage. Gone was his five o’clock
shadow and in its place was a pristinely trimmed goatee. He wore a single-breasted, tailored navy blue suit, with a pale pink shirt unbuttoned to the third one. Chestnut single-buckle dress shoes completed the chic outfit that, Harper was stunned to know, he’d put together himself. She complemented his look with a navy chiffon gown that plunged at the neck, tapered at the waist, and flowed sweepingly in a handkerchief pattern with a delicate floral print. Even with three-inch heels, she was careful to hold the sides high when she approached stairs and thresholds.

  Initially, the plan was to change after the actual performance, but Riley wanted the entire team part of the meet and greet with potential donors. She said they needed to put faces with the names of everyone that made the place work. It was harder to be cavalier about funding someone’s job when you saw them as more than items on a spreadsheet. Makeup, hair, jewelry, and heels were not her standard blacks for the booth, but they were all doing their part. The shoes were definitely coming off in the booth, though.

  “You ready to make your entrance?”

  “We do clean up nice,” Harper said, running her hand down the lapel of his jacket.

  In return, Lucas ran his hand down her back and ended his hand’s travel cupping her left butt cheek.

  “Can you get through this meeting without any more blowups?”

  “I don’t need any more reminders or help to settle down, thank you very much,” Harper said, spinning a little out of his hold.

  “That’s what you said last night, and yet this morning we were in the same position. You still tender?”

  Heat rose to the surface of her cheeks so quickly she felt compelled to place her hand on one of them. “Uh-uh, not talking about it. I’m fine, and I apologized about the dishes.”

  “I didn’t care about the dishes. I did care, a lot, about you stomping around the broken pieces in bare feet while you ripped Maddy a new one.”

  “She had it coming.”