“I’m watching you, Parish.” He set an onion, bell pepper, zucchini, and some mushrooms beside her, and turned away to start rice in the cooker.
“So, you already know that there’s history between Brody and Tyler.”
“Charlotte told me they were the theater’s golden couple, and then he up and broke her heart.”
“That’s the short, very uncomplicated version. I’ve known Brody forever. We started in theater around the same time. Tyler came later.” The steady crunch, thunk of the knife punctuated her narrative. “Our senior year of high school, she won the role of Laurie in Oklahoma. Brody was Curly. They’d known each other for years. This is a small town, so that was unavoidable. But they’d never actually thought about each other like that until they hit the stage together. That show was...unparalleled. Because they really did fall in love as Laurie and Curly did and the audience could feel it. Their chemistry was undeniable. People still talk about that performance all these years later.”
Myles set the oil to heat in a large wok and began slicing pork chops into bite-sized pieces. “I guess that wasn’t one of those false intimacies.”
“No. It was the real deal. They were inseparable after that. And so freaking perfect for each other, it was hard to remember they hadn’t always been together. Seeing them dance together, hearing them sing... I’m good. Tucker’s good. Tyler and Brody, when they played together, were professional quality. If they’d wanted, they could’ve taken Broadway by storm.”
What he’d seen this last week hadn’t come anywhere approaching professional quality.
As if sensing his thoughts, she looked up from the thin strips of bell pepper. “I can see that look of doubt on your face. You have to remember that this was before.”
“What happened?”
Piper sighed. “Brody’s parents were killed in a car accident our senior year of college. He fell apart. Went to a seriously dark place. Tyler took care him, handled all the details, even though it gutted her, too. She’d lost her mom to breast cancer in high school, so she’d been really tight with Mrs. Jensen. We thought, maybe, things were getting better when she convinced him to go out for Grease. Of course they got the leads. That was the default back then. By the time the show was over, Brody seemed more like himself, like he was finally starting to heal. And then a week after the show closed, he just disappeared. No note, no phone call, no nothing. Tyler actually called out the police, sure something awful had happened to him. It was months before she had proof he wasn’t dead in a ditch. And it wasn’t because he’d contacted her himself but because he’d arranged for a management company to deal with leasing his parents’ house.”
“Ouch.” He slid the meat into the waiting oil, listening to the sizzle and pop.
“She was devastated. And until this show, she hasn’t set foot on stage since. It’s been eight years, and she hasn’t moved on.”
“So when Brody showed back up...?”
“At first Tucker and I thought the best tactic would be keeping them separated. I’m the one who pushed her into auditioning. I’m the one who got her in this position in the first place.” She passed him the bowl of chopped vegetables, separated out by how long each would take to cook.
Fishing out the pork and setting it aside, Myles began adding veggies to the wok. “What changed your mind?”
“He did. I can see how he looks at her. I don’t know why he left or even, really, why he came back. But he still looks at her with his heart in his eyes. And Tyler wouldn’t be so upset if she felt nothing. As long as Brody was the understudy, she could more or less avoid him. Avoidance wasn’t going to fix anything. They need to work out their crap. Whatever the hell it is. So Tucker agreed to take one for the team so that Brody would have to take his place and Tyler would finally have to face him.”
“The theatrical equivalent of locking them in a room together until they kill each other or learn to play nice.” He added the meat back to the pan. “Here, stir this for a bit while I throw together sauce.”
Piper took the wooden spoon. “Something like that.”
“So what is it you hope to accomplish with this little ruse?” Soy sauce, brown sugar, some melted butter. Myles whisked the combination together before adding it to the pan.
Piper gave the lot of it a good stir before setting the spoon aside to let the sauce bubble and thicken. “I don’t know. A happy ending would be nice. God knows she deserves it. But...resolution at the very least. Closure. Whichever way it goes, she never got that before, and she’s never going to move on with her life until she gets it.”
Myles considered the situation. “Your heart’s in the right place, and I agree, the chemistry is apparently there, but there’s too much bad history between them. They need to be reminded of the good.”
“How?”
The first inklings of a plan began to percolate in the back of his brain as he pulled out plates, dishing up rice and dumping the fragrant stir fry over the top. “Well, you’ve already manipulated them this far. Are you up for a little more?”
“Possibly.” She followed him over to the table and picked up chopsticks instead of the fork he’d set out, just in case. “What did you have in mind?”
They toasted with chopsticks. “We’ll need to loop in Tucker.”
~*~
Speakeasy was packed. Every table was full, and dozens of other patrons crowded around, waiting for the show. Whether Myles’ plan worked on Tyler and Brody or not, Piper was forced to admit that the fund-raising aspect of it would definitely help out the Madrigal. The cast had commandeered the row of tables closest to the tiny stage. Brody sat camped out dead center, but there was no
sign of Tyler.
Myles materialized out of the crowd. “Everything’s set. The request list is pre-populated with duet requests for Tyler and Brody, and the donation jar has been seeded with some cash already to get things rolling.”
“That’s great. But what happens if Tyler doesn’t show?” What the hell had Tucker been thinking, sending Brody to break the news about the fundraiser?