The auditorium is barely lit. A single work light illuminates the part of the stage where I’m standing, showing me only the dark outlines of the seats. I imagine those seats filled with a rapt, admiring audience. I imagine the thunderous applause that would follow my future performances, the appreciative shouts of my name. It feels so real that, unable to resist, I perform a small bow.
Just then, a door at the gallery end of the auditorium opens, spilling bright light across the seats. Feeling ridiculous, I skitter away from the light. From the open doorway, the long-legged figure of a man I instantly recognize as Aidan Court strides into the auditorium, followed by a woman in high heels.
She looks around the empty seats for less than a millisecond before walking into his arms.
He backs away. “You wanted to see the empty theater,” he says, sounding amused. I can’t get enough of the deep, husky timbre of his voice. I’ve never considered that a voice can be sexy, but now I want to close my eyes and burrow into the sound.
His companion giggles and leans into him. “I did.”
“Well, now you have.”
Even I can tell he’s dismissin
g her. Is she too blind to see it, or does she just not want to leave?
“I should get back to work,” she says, her tone regretful.
“Me too.” He sounds relieved. Too relieved for her not to notice. After a pause, he adds. “I’ll call you.”
“You don’t have my number.”
From where I’m standing, I can’t see his expression. She holds out her hand for his phone and enters a number. I hear the muted sounds of a phone ringing from her purse.
“Now you can call me.”
I’ve got news for you, lady. He won’t.
She walks back to the open door, hips swaying. He watches her go, silent. Another man enters the auditorium just as she leaves. He’s as tall as Aidan, well-built, with luxurious brown locs in a ponytail.
“How was lunch?” The new arrival asks, amusement in his voice.
Aidan chuckles and inclines his head toward the door and the woman who just left. “That was lunch.”
“Lucky you.”
“We can’t all have the love of our life waiting at home for us after a long day at work, can we?”
The other man laughs. “Can’t, or won’t?” There’s a pause, when Aidan doesn’t respond, he continues. “So, are you ready for this audition?”
“Don’t remind me,” Aidan groans, running one hand through his thick, wavy hair. “It’s unnecessary and frankly, a waste of my time.”
The second man chuckles. “I hear she’s good.”
“Good is relative, isn’t it? His nineteen-year-old daughter for the lead? For fuck’s sake…It’s a Broadway production, not a kiddie special for Disney junior.”
It takes a moment for me to realize he’s talking about me. My face heats with shock and embarrassment. They keep talking, but I’m not listening anymore. I was so excited to meet him, meanwhile, he had already made up his mind about me.
Without even giving me a chance to prove myself.
“I’m exhausted,” he continues. “Let’s just get it over with so I can cast a new lead actress.”
There’s a sound, and a moment later, the auditorium is flooded with light. For the first time, the men notice me standing in the wings. I barely notice the other man as Aidan Court spears me with his intense blue gaze.
The initial shock of that gaze almost knocks me off my feet. Our eyes hold, and my throat goes dry. My anger disappears, replaced by a burst of awareness that I can see mirrored in his eyes.
He is cute.
No. That word is too bland, too banal.