Engaging Men (40 page)

Then, before I could come up with an encouraging word to give him before he went on stage, he gave a quick glance over at Kirk, who was chatting with Colin again, and pressed his lips to mine in a quick kiss. “For luck,” he explained, giving me a heart-stopping grin before he bounded away from the table once more.

I turned to Grace, whose raised eyebrow said, What was that all about?

What indeed? I thought, touching my lips, which were, much to my surprise, tingling.

But whatever crazy thoughts spun dizzily through my head in that moment were quickly replaced by the quivering mass of fear that overtook my stomach as soon as Justin stepped onstage. Please, God, let him do all right tonight, I prayed, as he grabbed the mike.

“How’s everybody out there doing tonight?”

A heartening roar of cheers rose up from the crowd. Grace, God bless her, even gave him a two-fingered whistle.

“How many New Yorkers we have out there tonight? ”Justin asked.

Another roar rose up (I banged on the table, spilling Kirk’s beer and earning me a somewhat disgusted look, which I ignored).

“God, I love this town,” Justin continued, putting the mike on the stand and sitting down. He placed the guitar across his knees. “I wasn’t born here, you know,” he said. “I figure you might hold that against me, but by God I’m gonna die here— that’s for sure.” He laughed nervously.

The room went silent, as if those black-clad ranks were holding his Midwestern smile against him. My heart went out to him. He looked suddenly afraid he might keel over on the spot, and I glimpsed fear in his eyes before he looked down at his guitar. I worried now that I had pushed Justin to do something he wasn’t ready for. I worried even more when he started strumming a chord only to stop, chuckle ruefully and start tuning up. “Sorry about that.”

Except for the sound of the unharmonious strings he plucked as he turned the tuning pegs to adjust them, the room was so still I could feel a palpable…aggression. Glancing around, I studied the crowd again, the impatient expressions, the belligerent looks. It was as if they expected—wanted—him to fail. Or something. Whatever it was, the room felt decidedly tense.

I wondered if Justin sensed it, too. Especially when he finished tuning, then lifted his head and stared out into the distance, his hand frozen over the strings as if he had forgotten where to begin. I held my breath.

Finally he started to strum, hesitantly at first, then with a growing confidence. The song was fast-paced, a jumble of catchy, bluesy chords. I began to feel hopeful, until Justin opened his mouth to sing. It wasn’t his voice—that was as beautiful as his looks. But the words—the words that finally came out of his mouth—were a bit…strange.

Said the leaf to the tree

Do you see what I see?

A beam of fresh hot sunlight

Coming down to shine on me.

Phooo—toooo—synthesis!

Phooo
—toooo—synthesis!

I couldn’t help but laugh in amazement. Leave it to Justin to write a song about something that most people hadn’t thought about since eighth-grade science class. Where did he come up with this stuff? I looked around at the crowd, who seemed to think his happy little tune was as bizarre as I did. I saw heads lean together, heard sputtered laughter. But as Justin strummed away in a rhythm you couldn’t help but tap a foot to, I noticed something else. I wasn’t the only one tapping a foot. The room seemed to visibly sway to Justin’s strange little song.

By the second chorus, everyone had given in to the madness. Everyone, that is, except Kirk, who leaned close to my ear and said, “What is this nonsense?” I turned to look at him—actually, I think I glared—before turning back to Justin, who finished out the song to a heartening round of applause. Grace turned to me and winked as we clapped our hands vigorously. Colin was beaming, and Claudia had her eyebrows raised as if she couldn’t believe she was enjoying Justin’s little tribute to plant life. Kirk rolled his eyes and sipped his beer. I ignored him—it was easy enough—because Justin was leaning into the mike again.“ We’re gonna take it down a notch,” he murmured, then began to strum a melody filled with a soul-searing sadness. A sadness I almost didn’t expect from Justin, with his perpetual happy-go-lucky demeanor.The melody was pure blues, and the words…were heartbreaking.

The room was positively still. Except for the clear, true sound of Justin’s voice as it rang out over the room, singing of the sadness only a man who’d loved and lost could feel. I was mesmerized, as was the rest of the female population in the room, considering the dreamy-eyed expressions I saw as Justin purred into the mike.

And once he strummed that last melancholy chord, the room broke out in thundering applause. Grace and I stood up, along with Colin and Claudia. Hell, from the look on Claudia’s face, I thought she was going to throw her underwear up there.

He had them eating out of the palm of his hand, and suddenly I wondered why I’d ever doubted him. This was the Justin who had disarmed me from the first moment I met him in improv class, the man who could sweep a room off its feet with a smile—and now a song. He had everyone in the room under his spell except Kirk, who shook his head incredulously the minute I sat down again.

“He’s so beautiful,” Colin said to me, leaning across Kirk, who eyed him with a kind of disgust. But I didn’t have time to contemplate this as Justin, looking clearly encouraged by the audience’s response, began strumming again, still in a bluesy vein, but this time with a more upbeat tempo.

I burst into joyful laughter. “He’s singing about the azalea!” I explained when everyone at the table turned to look at me.

No one knew what the hell I was talking about, but it didn’t seem to matter. The rhythm was so catchy the whole room had begun to sway again, hands clapping to the rhythm. By the time Justin got to the second chorus, everyone was singing, “Mmm, hmm, my Bemadette…”

When Justin was done with that song, he immediately rolled into another one, again with a catchy rhythm and strange lyrics. Something about reaching for the sky from a bed of soil. I was starting to see a theme here. And I found out what it was when Justin finally came offstage, exuberant as the crowd cheered on.

“What’d you think?” he asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

“Fantastic!” we all shouted. Well, all of us except Kirk, who stared at Justin as if he’d grown a horn.

“Yeah, it’s a little thing I’m working on called ‘Ten Songs for Bernadette,’” Justin said, winking at me.

“Who’s Bernadette?” Claudia asked, leaning in close. “She must be a very lucky girl.”

“Oh, she is. She changed my life,” Justin said, still looking at me. “And the best thing about her is, she’s always there for me, no matter what.”

I have to say, it was a bit disappointing to learn all those songs were for the azalea, but I couldn’t help getting excited for Justin. He seemed so happy, so alive, for the first time in a long time. I didn’t want to miss a minute of it.

Kirk, on the other hand, had had enough. “Can we go now?” he whispered fiercely in my ear once Jenna had bounced over to the table to plant a big kiss on Justin’s cheek and offer a round of drinks to the table, on the house.

“Go? Kirk, it’s so early.”

With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair. “I’m tired, I got a lot of work to do in the morning. And this damn cigarette smoke,” he said, waving a hand in the air in Claudia’s direction as another cloud rose up. “Besides,” he added, leaning in close enough for only me to hear, “I’ve had enough of basking in that…that idiot’s glow.”

My eyes widened. “You’re jealous,” I whispered back.

“Jealous?” Kirk laughed. “Of him? Gimme a break, Angela. Now, are you coming, or what?”

I didn’t know what to do, so I stared after him as he headed for the door then stopped, as if waiting for me to make up my mind. I stood up. “I…1 gotta go.”

“Now?” Justin said. “Jenna just ordered us a round of drinks!”

“Yeah, Ange, hang out with us—we’re having a good time,” Grace said.

“Kirk is tired and I have to work in the morning,” I hedged, and before anyone could change my mind, I quickly bid them all good-night and walked outside, where Kirk was already hailing a cab.

“That was very rude,” I said to him.

He dropped his hand, stared at me. “What?”

“You didn’t even say goodbye!”

“Look, Ange, I came, didn’t I? And you know I have a lot to do to get ready for my trip…”

“But we were celebrating Justin’s success. We should be supporting him now—”

“Supporting what, exactly?” Kirk said, staring at me with what looked like anger in his eyes. “Did you hear those lyrics? They didn’t even make sense!”

“He was singing about the azalea. You know, the one that was delivered that night…by accident,” I hedged, realizing Kirk, of all people, would never see the humor if he knew the real story behind that azalea.

“Yeah, that’s beautiful, Ange. Just perfect. I think we can go now, seeing as your roommate seems to have a big enough fan club without us.”

“You are jealous!” I accused.

“I’m not jealous!” he insisted. “I just don’t feel a need to sit around making that guy feel good about himself. Do you really think no matter how much we slap him on the back, no matter how many rounds of drinks that bimbo buys him, he’s gonna get somewhere? He’s got nothing going on, that guy“

“He’s very talented, he just hasn’t made the most of his opportunities.”

Kirk snorted, lifting his hand again to hail a cab. “Opportunities. That guy wouldn’t know an opportunity if it kicked him in the head. When was the last time you saw him even make an effort?”

His words stopped me for a moment, echoing, as they did, all the doubts I had had about Justin over the past months.

“I mean, I know the entertainment industry isn’t easy to break into,” Kirk went on, “but look at you—you’re doing it. At least you’re getting somewhere.”

I stared at him. Was I getting somewhere? Because my prospect of a contract at Rise and Shine suddenly seemed like… nowhere.

And maybe it was that thought that made me pause when a cab pulled up and Kirk opened the door, gesturing for me to get inside.

“C’mon, Ange, let’s go!” he said, staring at me as if I were some alien creature.

I felt like some alien creature—maybe a little like Bernadette, digging my roots in no matter what the cost. “No, I’m gonna stay.”

His jaw hardened. “Fine.” And he got in the cab, slamming the door behind him, and drove away.

Leaving me to march back inside and face my friends alone.

“What happened?” Grace said.

“Nothing,” I said lightly. “Kirk was just tired, and I…I felt like staying after all.” I glanced at Justin, who was just downing a shot with Claudia and Colin when he looked up and saw me. “Hey I knew she’d be back,” he said merrily, pulling out the chair next to him as I sat down, feeling a bit uneasy because of the look on Grace’s face. She had observed the way Kirk had acted. And she clearly hadn’t liked it either.

Fortunately, I was saved from making any further excuses for Kirk by the sight of C.J. and his wife, Danielle, approaching our table.

“C.J., my man! You made it!” Justin said,jumping up to embrace his best friend and his wife.

“Yeah, well, Danielle and I came in to the city to see a new band we have on the label, but I was hoping we’d make your set…”

“Aw, you missed it, man,” Justin said, but he was smiling ear to ear, as if it didn’t matter that his only hope in the music industry had missed his successful gig.

Suddenly I found myself piping up, “But he was fantastic. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they invited him back next week!”

Everyone at the table agreed, heaping praise on Justin.

“Well, this calls for a round of drinks,” C.J. said, as he and Danielle sat down at the table. Introductions were made, and soon enough everyone was merrily conversing and pouring back more alcohol. I felt myself relax for the first time since my heated exchange with Kirk. I even began to revel in the excitement of Justin’s moment, so much so that C.J. leaned close to me and said, “So he was good tonight, huh?”

“Yes,” I said, nodding my head vigorously. “I mean, I’ve heard him play before, but never before an audience. It was…wild.”

C.J. shook his head, sipped his drink. “Yeah, he’s always had good presence onstage. We used to jam together in college, but back then Justin was playing bass. I was the guitarist—and the singer, I might add,” he said, clearly remembering those times with fondness. “But after college we never did anything with the band. I stuck with music, but the film bug bit Justin. Did you ever see that film he made? Pretty amazing, huh? I’m surprised he’s even doing music again. I thought he’d stick with film…”

“So did I,” I admitted. But Justin hadn’t stuck with anything since he’d made that film. Still, after seeing his performance tonight, I wondered if maybe I was wrong about him. Maybe he wasn’t a frustrated filmmaker, but a musician who hadn’t had a chance to shine. And he could have a chance, I thought, watching the way he chatted jovially with C.J., who slapped him on the back and ordered him another beer. Hell, C.J. would give him a chance. Justin’s life was full of chances, it seemed. He only had to choose what he wanted.