“Come on.” Amy tugs on my arm.
Auditions always feel like an eternity and a whirlwind all at once. I’m checked in and wait and wait and wait and in forever and no time at all I’m being called onto the stage.
I breathe out all the tension, and like it always does, my nerves disappear on the actual stage. Kate is so real to me that I entirely disappear, and the monologue flows from me like it was meant to be.
When I’m done, I can’t stop smiling.
“Very nice, Brooke,” the producer says. “Before we let you go, can you read for another part as well?”
Nerves grip me again. “Sure.”
They hand me the sides for the other main character. One of the Southern girls. She’s innocent and beautiful and romantic, and not at all the type that I’m usually cast for. Of course I’m already familiar with the character and the lines because I’ve read the play more times than I can count at this point. But I haven’t internalized her or done the deep work of her character.
“We know this is last minute, so it’s okay,” the producer says. “Just go with your instinct, and we want to see how you do.”
I force a smile. “Sounds good!”
We start the scene, and it’s not good. I feel stiff and uncomfortable and unnatural. That brings on a little more panic, and in my head I can see the entire audition falling apart in front of my eyes.
I inhale a deep breath in between lines and focus on what I’m saying—look toward the back of the theater so I can focus. And he’s there.
Malcolm.
He’s sitting in the back, barely visible in the dim light pouring out from the stage. The shock that he’s here passes in a second, and suddenly it’s all for him. Malcolm believes completely in my talent, and this scene that’s much more intimate is suddenly easy. I relax into the scene, and there. The magic starts to flow again, along with relief.
The producers are smiling when we finish. “Thank you very much, Brooke. We’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you.”
I exit the stage, and nearly run to the lobby. He’s already there, and smiling. “You were great.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Malcolm shrugs. “I wanted to see you live. And the play just got a brand-new backer.”
“Wait.” My heart falls. “Did you tell them to cast me?”
He catches me around the waist and pulls me in. “Nope. I told them that I was a businessman with a brand-new interest in theater and that I’d heard about the play and wanted to support it.” A light kiss on my lips. “You’re going to land that role without any help from me.”
“Seeing you helped me. I was struggling when they asked me to switch characters. And then I saw you.”
“I’ll have no problem coming with you to auditions if that’s what it takes to see you act more.”
I’m the one that kisses him then, hard, in front of the people checking in for later auditions. His arms come around me and he practically lifts me off the floor. My lipstick doesn’t last. It’s all over his mouth when we break apart, desperate for air.
“Are you done here?”
“I’m done here.”
“When will you know?”
I shake my head. “Not for a couple of days yet. We’ll see if I get called back.”
Running his hands through my curls, I see the heat already lighting in his eyes. “How about I take you home so you can get whatever you need, and then we make tomorrow the day we don’t leave the bed?”
“Yes,” I say. “Absolutely.”
We walk out of the theater hand in hand.
7
Malcolm
I stroke my fingers down Brooke’s back. She’s sleeping beside me, hair wild and sheets tangled around her body from earlier. It’s been two weeks since her audition, and we still haven’t had enough of each other.
She was called back, and a few days later was offered one of the starring roles. Not the one that she’d audition for, but the one they’d asked her to read for after. Her roommate Amy was cast as well. And seeing the joy on her face when she found out is an expression that I’ll never forget.
Ever since then, we haven’t spent a night apart. The thought of her not being here in my bed fills me with a dread that I can’t explain. Even with our nights and sleeping tangled together, I wish that we had more time. Her schedule is now taken up with rehearsals in the evenings, and the weekends, too.
I tried to make her leave the job as my secretary, but she wouldn’t. Not yet. I understand. Brooke’s tried to hide the fact that she’s not well off from me, but I see it. I’ve been to her apartment, and I’ve seen the way she never wastes anything. The play won’t last forever, and neither will that income.