Follow My Lead: A Joy Universe Novel

by Louisa Masters

  He smiles and leans into me. “I wish your mom liked me, too. But I’m done trying to please other people. The only ones who matter are me and you.”

  Studying his face, I see something new there. He’s always had an air of authority, of confidence, the kind that comes with decades of having people defer to you, but now it seems to radiate from him.

  “You feel better now that you’ve talked to Rick.” It’s not a question, but he nods.

  “Closure, I guess. A year ago, if someone had told me Rick would be in the position he was in today, dumped, humiliated, trying to weasel his way back into my life, I would have felt… triumphant. Vindicated. I had… I guess they were revenge fantasies, daydreams of me spurning him and walking away filled with satisfaction and pleasure that he was suffering what I’d suffered. I’m not proud of them,” he adds, “especially not now. Because today I basically got to spurn him and walk away, and I felt sorry for him, for everything he’s going through. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for the way he ended our relationship, but I’m glad now that it ended, and I don’t want to waste more time or energy on hating him. I just want to let it go.”

  The tiny kernel of anxiety that’s been doing somersaults in my stomach since Rick called earlier finally dissipates. I lift a hand to Jason’s face and cup his cheek.

  “I love you.”

  He kisses me. “I love you too.”

  ***

  Jase and I meet with Seth Holder and Malcolm Joy at nine thirty on Monday morning. Outwardly, I’m confident that we’re about to be praised, but there’s a tiny inner voice that insists I be ready for anything.

  So I am.

  Jason had to drag me to bed at two in the morning, because I was determined to have all my i’s dotted and t’s crossed. There is nothing that could even remotely be considered a problem that I don’t have an answer for—and just in case we are going to be praised, I’m ready with papers to support my bid for a bigger budget.

  All bases covered.

  So why am I still so nervous?

  Malcolm grins at us. “Congratulations again on a fantastic opening weekend,” he declares. “I hope you don’t mind, but Seth and I had a look at the numbers this morning.” As the CFO of Joy Inc., Seth has access to all financial records. Not that I would have denied him access to them—especially not when they look this good. After the reviews from opening night went live, marketing worked their mojo and did some clever email marketing to upcoming guests at JU. We’re now sold out for six weeks, with limited availability for an additional two weeks after that.

  “We don’t mind at all,” I say smoothly. “I had a look myself.”

  Seth laughs at that, and Jase elbows me.

  “Were you dancing for joy while you looked?” Malcolm asks with a little twinkle in his eye, and it’s my turn to laugh. “In all seriousness, the numbers are impressive. Given your record with the company and the references you were given for this job, we expected you to be successful, but this exceeds that. Well done, Dimi.”

  I push down the urge to jump up on the conference table and do a victory dance, and instead restrain myself to “Thank you. I know you took a risk on me, and I want you to know how much I’ve appreciated this opportunity. I can’t take all the credit for our success—Jason and Trav and the team have all worked so hard.”

  “We know. You’ve all been a credit to the company,” Seth says. “Jason, we never doubted that you could pull this off, even given the limitations that were imposed, but you, too, have surpassed our expectations. I know we’re not even halfway through your contract, but we want to make it clear that we plan to extend it.”

  “Thank you,” Jason says placidly. “I’d like to make it clear that I plan to accept the extension—as long as the terms are satisfactory.”

  It’s my turn to elbow him, but Seth just smirks. “Speaking of satisfactory, can we assume that the situation from Saturday night has been resolved?”

  “Of course.” Jase doesn’t add anything more, and neither do I. Our personal lives don’t need any more stage time at work.

  “Good. Now, we want to go through some details with you both, but first, I think we should discuss what Mal and I envision for the future.”

  Right. Crunch time.

  I tell myself not to be stupid. Seth and Malcolm wouldn’t have just spent ten minutes telling us how awesome we are if they planned to pull the rug out from under us.

  Would they?

  Jase must know what I’m thinking, because he pinches my leg.

  “Dimi, I imagine you have a plan in place for growth, and it’s probably an ambitious plan… am I right?”

  “That depends on what you consider ambitious.” I can’t stop the smartass from peeking out. Malcolm snorts and tries to hide it with a cough.

  “Well, ambitious or not, whatever plans you have are going to be limited by the practical fact that we only have a finite number of theaters and they’re all booked for use through to the end of the year. The only reason we were able to get things moving so quickly for the Joy Village Theater Company was because of a cancellation for the show that was supposed to play late last year and early this year. The events department cleared the schedule, and that theater is now officially yours, but we can’t get you another one until next year, no matter how well you do.”

  I mull that over. The average run of a show at JU is two to three months. Some have run a little longer, some less. When I began planning, I calculated each “season” to be on the longer side of JU’s average at twelve weeks. If I managed to wrangle another theater, and if the timing lined up, production and rehearsals for our second show could have begun before the first show ended, and the third show could have opened while the second was still running. Having only one theater limits me—especially since we don’t have any additional space. All auditions, rehearsals, and set construction take place in the theater. It would be difficult and impractical to begin production on another show while Out of Line is still running, which means the break between seasons is going to be longer than I wanted.

  “That’s fair enough,” I concede, because what else am I going to do? Insist that they have events cancel one of the scheduled shows? I’d have to pay the contract penalties out of my budget, and that’s not happening. “However, given our numbers so far, I think it’s reasonable for me to ask that events put a temporary hold on one of the theaters for the first quarter of next year, pending the final numbers for our first run. If things continue as well as they have, at that stage they can allocate the theater to us for, let’s say, six months, to be renegotiated depending on the outcomes of our next two shows. If for whatever reason the numbers tank by the end of this season, they’ll still have about six months to find something for that theater.”

  Seth glances at Malcolm. “That sounds very reasonable. I have no problem okaying it.”

  I smile at him. “Great. I’d also like additional space to begin production for our second show so we can open as soon as possible after Out of Line closes.”

  Malcolm raises an eyebrow. “You don’t ask for much, do you?”

  “Believe me, if you saw his plan, you’d be marveling that he’s restrained himself,” Jason says drily. “But I have to second his request. Additional space may look like an expense right now, but it’ll be less expensive than having the theater empty while we’re in rehearsals between shows. The more nights we’re selling tickets for, the better.”

  I mentally blow him a kiss.

  “The issue with that is that we don’t just have empty buildings lying around,” Seth points out. “JU only constructs buildings for dedicated purposes. Let me talk to facilities and see if they have any ideas before I make promises.”

  “Sure,” I immediately agree. I think I’ve pushed my luck enough for now, especially since we still need to go through all the JVTC books. Best not to antagonize them before t
hat. We may be their pet project for now, but that could easily change.

  All in all, I’m considering this meeting a win.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jason

  I’m nervous about dinner tonight, more than I was for the meeting this morning. I know Dimi was freaked about the big bosses scrutinizing the company—last night I had to forcibly stop him from obsessing over reports we did not need—but given our success over the weekend, I was confident we would be getting the go-ahead to look at expansion.

  Which we did.

  But tonight….

  I’ve mostly accepted that Dimi’s mom will never like me. She might begin to accept me more over time, but it’s unlikely she’ll ever let go of her negative feelings. Especially now that they’re tied to her family’s disapproval. I don’t blame Dimi and the others for telling her how they felt about her attitude, but to her, it had to feel like her loved ones were ganging up on her… and it was my fault. She’ll never forget that, even if she is able to disassociate me from her bad memories.

  Still, even though I’ve come to terms with not having a loving relationship with my future mother-in-law, I don’t like it. And I’m nervous to face her tonight, so soon after her feelings were rubbed raw by Dimi… and her husband, and her mother.

  Fun times.

  So as Dimi and I approach the front door and he pulls out his keys, I brace myself for the worst.

  Inside, everything is much like it always is for Monday night dinner. Dimi’s dad and gram are in the kitchen, getting the food ready, and everyone else is lounging around in the living room. I do the greeting rounds, getting a real kick out of it when the kids call me Uncle Jason. I have nephews and nieces of my own, of course, pretty much grown up now, but I hardly ever saw them even when they were little. Maybe I should try reaching out to them now that they’re older and don’t have gatekeepers?

  A thought for another day.

  Dimi’s family is made up of huggers and kissers, so when I reach Sascha, I’m not sure what to do. Previously, she’s given me a small hug and an air kiss, but given what happened yesterday, should I come up with a workaround, make things easier for her?

  I only have a split second to decide. Luckily for me, she takes control. The hug and kiss may look normal to an observer, but her smile is completely and utterly fake. It looks like she’s just stretched her lips wide to show her teeth.

  She moves away, and Dimi comes over and squeezes my hand. I squeeze back, because I might feel awkward right now, but this has to be killing him. It’s his mom, and they’ve always been close.

  “So are you going to tell us about Saturday?” Cait demands. “Come on, spill! Mom said Chris Evans was there.”

  We’re easily distracted and happy to relive our moments of glory. I’ve had many successful opening nights before, but I can’t lie, this one’s a little sweeter than all the rest, because Dimi and I did it together.

  I’m becoming sappy as I get older, apparently.

  By the time we head in for dinner, I’m more relaxed. Sascha isn’t obviously avoiding me, she isn’t being obnoxious, and everyone else is their usual welcoming self, so I don’t think I can really ask for more.

  Or so I thought.

  We’re at coffee and dessert, and the kids have been excused to play or watch TV or plan total world domination—whatever they usually do when adults aren’t around—when Sascha clears her throat.

  “I wonder if I could have a moment, please,” she says quietly, and yet it cuts through all conversation. Heads turn in her direction. From the corner of my eye, I spot Dimi and Patrick exchange a worried glance.

  She hesitates, then says, “I originally planned to say this privately, but it’s played out in front of you all up until now, so I think it needs to continue that way. I’ve always prided myself on being an open-minded and accepting person, and especially on raising my kids to be the same. When you all were little, I encouraged you to call out bullying and prejudice and to draw your friends from wide circles, not just those who were ‘like us.’” She hesitates again. “I am so proud of you all now. Because you’re still drawing your friends from wide circles, and you’re still calling out bullying and prejudice. Even when it’s me doing it. It’s hard for me to say that. To accept that I’m the one in the wrong here. I am, though, and Jason, I owe you an apology. I haven’t been fair to you, and I’m sorry.” She takes a deep breath. “Honestly, it does bother me that there is such a great disparity in age between you and Dimi, but that’s my problem. It shouldn’t have any bearing on how I act toward you, because the fact is, you’re Dimi’s choice and he’s happy with you. That’s all that matters. So I’m sorry for my behavior, and I’ll do better in future. You’re welcome in this family.”

  Tears sting my eyes. I want to take a moment to gather my composure before speaking, but I’m afraid that will be construed as hesitation, so my voice is a little shaky when I say, “Thank you, Sascha. I truly appreciate that.”

  She manages a smile.

  “Thank you, Mom,” Dimi adds, his voice husky, and her smile grows.

  “Does anyone else feel like Tiny Tim should be here?” Sienna asks slyly, and laughter breaks the poignant moment.

  “I am not Scrooge, thank you very much,” Sascha snaps, but she’s grinning.

  I might not ever have a loving relationship with my mother-in-law, but I can have one based on respect and our mutual love for Dimi. Looking at him now, seeing his face lit up with happiness and relief, I’m completely okay with that.

  Epilogue

  Dimi

  I’m nervous. I shouldn’t be, because this is my fifth opening night in the past year—sixth if you count the Joyville Amateur Theater productions. But I’ve come to accept that opening night is going to mean nerves, no matter how many times I do it.

  As usual, I’m hiding in the wings for the first act. Jason gave up on trying to get me to take my seat in the theater months ago—he and the rest of the crew have come to accept that I need to be in the wings until I see that everything is going well.

  So far, things have—gone well, I mean. We’ve had four very successful shows on our hands, so successful that I’ve been assured we can have a third theater by the end of August. Entertainment has had to hire more performers twice since we opened to accommodate the additional numbers we need, and they’ll have to hire more in the next few months—but according to them, we’re now attracting attention from the drama schools. JU has always been a great first job for graduating performers, since it allows them to gain some experience, but now, with the opportunity to rotate into full-length productions also a factor, JU has become a great job, period.

  My goal of only having one theater in the Village for touring shows, with all the others featuring JVTC productions, no longer seems like a dream. It’s a very real possibility.

  Does that mean work is perfect? Hell, no. I still want more budget, and Jason and I battle over all the details. We work really well together, but that doesn’t mean we agree all the time. Or most of the time. In fact, for the whole month of October, we only communicated during working hours through our assistants. Then we’d go home at the end of the day and very carefully not talk about work before having energetic sex. Our rule about not bringing work problems home is still in force, so it made for an interesting month where we were simultaneously not speaking to each other and getting along fantastically at the same time. Kind of like the Schrödinger’s cat of relationships.

  On a purely personal level, things couldn’t be better. As soon as the lease on Jason’s apartment was up, he moved in with me, and we started looking for something a little bigger for the both of us. We found it about six weeks ago, and although we’ve technically been renting it for the past month, we won’t move in for another two weeks. With the new show opening, we just didn’t have time to pack, move, and unpack. For now, we’re both commit
ted to staying here in Joyville, but we’ve discussed it and decided that if something irresistible should come up elsewhere for either of us in the future, we’re open to exploring options. To be honest, I think it will be harder for Jason to consider leaving than for me. He’s gotten really attached to my family and the town over this past year.

  Even my mom, I hear you ask. Short answer: yes. Long answer: they’ll never be bosom besties, but they get along well. Mom actually really likes him as a person, but we can tell she occasionally still struggles with her memories and her automatic association between them and Jason. She’s dealing with it well, though, and so, yeah, Jason’s gotten attached to her. He joined the committee for the holiday party last year, and that was a real bonding experience for them both.

  So, work, good, love life, good… what else? Friends? Enemies?

  Things are good there too. Jase and I have managed two short jaunts up to New York to hang out with Brice and David, and they came down for a ten-day break last October, then again for the holidays. We spend a lot of our “spare” time at the community theater—although I’ve only produced one of the shows there since I started with JVTC, and I only did that one because the woman who was supposed to do it had to pull out halfway through and nobody else wanted to make the commitment at the last minute. But even when we can’t volunteer much, we scrape out some time to spend with our community theater friends, and of course, there’s Derek and Trav. Working with Trav as we do means we’ve gotten to know him really well, and Derek’s just impossible to not get along with.

  He and I try to have lunch, just us, once a month to give me a chance to pick his brain. He says I don’t really need him to mentor me anymore, but I disagree. Last week, after I got the news about the third theater, I told him that I credited him for a lot of my success with JVTC, and he laughed in my face.

  “Dimi, I may have taught you a few shortcuts, but you were going to get here on your own anyway. You’re one of only three people I’ve ever given a personalized recommendation for in my entire career, and of those three, you’re the best. I never had any doubt when I told Malcolm you were perfect for this job. I knew you’d succeed. You’ve just made me look good.”