Waiting in the Wings (25 page)

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Authors: Melissa Brayden

Tags: #Fiction, #Lesbian

BOOK: Waiting in the Wings
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do was stare back at her stupidly. “Why did you do that?” she asked a little more forcefully, now speaking directly to me.

“I…I don’t know,” was all I could manage. “I’m sorry.” I took a step toward her. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t.” She held one hand in front of her, halting my action and taking a step backward. “We’re going to go. You stay here.”

And I did. As Adrienne left, I sank into the nearby love seat. Common sense came crashing back to me like a powerful slap across the face. I was numb, reeling from the kiss, and guilt ridden all at the same time. Who would blame Adrienne for being furious with me? I’d acted like an asshole for the better part of the evening and then forced her up against the wall of a bathroom and mauled her. Classy. I sat there for several more minutes, my head in my hands, a million self-recriminations bouncing around inside it. I was ashamed and embarrassed by my behavior. But there was one nagging thought I simply couldn’t shake: Adrienne had kissed me back. Maybe it had been a knee-jerk reaction on her part, but it sure didn’t feel that way.


Paige’s hands were on me before I even got the door unlocked. We stumbled inside, her lips on my neck as she walked me backward, bumping us into the leather club chair next to the bed. A stack of books fell onto the hard wood floor with a bang.

“I’ve missed this body,” Paige breathed, moving from my neck to my mouth. As she pressed her lips to mine, I did everything I could to lose myself in the feel of her hands on my skin, to allow myself to enjoy the body of this sexy and attractive woman. But the more I tried, the less I was able to engage. When she deepened the kiss, I reciprocated, but it felt robotic, as if I was simply going through the motions. At this point, I heard my own voice inside my head, telling me to stop. As much as I tried to ignore the voice, it only seemed to amplify, reminding me who I’d been kissing an hour before. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head, willing it all to stop.

I stepped back from Paige. “Wait, please.”

She looked at me, surprised at first and then immediately concerned. “Jen, are you all right? Talk to me. You look a little pale.” She gently ushered me to the couch. “Here, why don’t you sit down? I’m going to get you a glass of water.” She disappeared into the bathroom.

“I’m fine, Paige,” I called after her. “God, I feel so stupid.”

“It’s okay, sweetie, you’ve had a little wine. Maybe it’s just gone to your head.” She returned, handing me a glass of water, which I promptly took a few swallows of and rested my forehead on my palm.

“It’s not the wine.” I sighed, defeated. “I’m sorry, but I shouldn’t have brought you back here.”

She sat next to me slowly. “Oh. Is it something I did? You seemed kind of into the idea at dinner.”

“I am, I mean, I was. Something happened tonight. Someone, I guess, is a better way to put it. Adrienne.”

Paige’s eyes widened and she tilted her head to the side, a knowing look surfacing on her face. “So it wasn’t just my imagination.”

I shook my head apologetically. “I’m sorry you got stuck in the middle of all of this tonight. I swear I had no idea we were going to run into them.”

“I believe you, Jenna, and hey, it’s okay.” She scooted to the edge of the chair. “Can I ask you one question?” I nodded solemnly. “Are you in love with her?”

I sat up straighter. “No. I mean…I definitely have these feelings

for her though, and nothing I do to get rid of them seems to work.” “And why are you trying to get rid of them exactly?” “Because we’ve tried this before. It didn’t work, and it hurt a

hell of a lot when it didn’t. It’s better this way.”

“It doesn’t look better from where I’m sitting. I’ve never seen you like this.”

I waved my hand as if to indicate I was fine. No big deal. “It doesn’t matter now anyway. After tonight I’m pretty sure I’ve blown it.”

Paige looked at me thoughtfully. “Answer me another question.

Does she have feelings for you?” “No…yes. I think it’s possible.” Paige raised an eyebrow.

“We haven’t actually
talked
about it. It’s complicated.”

“It’s not, and I’ll tell you why. You deserve to be happy. That’s very simple. Don’t let your relationship hang-ups get in the way.”

“It sounds so easy when you say it. When did you get to be so smart?”

“I guess you just never noticed.” She softened. “You’re a good person, Jenna, and because I care about you, I’m going to offer this piece of advice. Tell her how you feel. If she feels the same way, it’s never too late.”

I nodded, taking in her words. “Maybe. Thank you, Paige, for understanding.” I stood and pulled her into an embrace. “I wish there were more like you.”

“Aww shucks,” she said. “Speaking of late, I’m going to let you get some rest. You’ve got a lot on your mind.” I followed her to the door and pulled it open for her. She walked into the corridor before turning back. “She’s really hot, you know.”

“I know.”

“Just the thought of you two is…wow. Now that’s an image I’ll carry with me.”

I playfully swatted her. “Knock it off and get out of here, you.

I’ll call you soon.”

With a final wave of her hand, she headed down the hall, offering a low whistle as she exited. I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling at her antics. I closed the door and leaned against it, pulling out my phone. I sent one text message before turning in for the night:
I’m sorry
.


Fuck. I slapped the stop button on the CD player hard with the open palm of my hand, turning off the music. I was completely frustrated at myself for missing the difficult transition in my senior year showcase number, after finally nailing it on the past two run- throughs. I’d been at the rehearsal studio for three hours that day, after rehearsing pretty steadily for the past four weeks. I finished off the water in my oversized plastic bottle, and took out a second from my bag. I wasn’t anywhere near finished with my rehearsal.

I’d known full well it would take a lot to get myself back in good dance form, and I had been right. I planned to use all the studio

time Adrienne secured for me and maybe even add to it myself. The progress I’d made so far was encouraging, and I was feeling a great deal more confident about myself as a dancer.

Unfortunately, the
Elevation
auditions had taken place the week before. Deep down I knew I hadn’t been ready and made the decision not to attend. While the project sounded perfect for me, the timing just hadn’t worked out in my favor. I needed more time.

I had been in close contact with Latham, however, explaining to him my goal of finding work on Broadway, and reminding him of his promise to help. He’d reluctantly agreed, despite the decrease in pay it would mean for both of us, and put the word out to the theatrical casting circle to see if anyone was interested. Luckily, I had a bit of clout behind my name because of the higher profile work I’d done the past few years and the nomination I’d received. He’d gotten back to me with a few audition opportunities in some already established Broadway shows. There was even an out-and- out offer for me to reprise the role of Alexis in
Clean Slate,
this time with the Broadway Company, still enjoying a healthy run in New York City six years after opening. It was something I was willing to consider, but I was still hoping for something new to come my way. It would be nice to originate a character and have something fresh to sink my teeth into. I wanted to craft a role from the bottom floor up.

Realizing my short break was over, I decided to have a little fun. I put on one of my favorite high intensity CDs and let go in freestyle mode, linking moves I knew and adding in new ones. It was then that I heard a loud knock on the studio door. I didn’t have a chance to answer it before a middle-aged balding man stuck his head inside and nodded in greeting. “Sorry,” I called out to him over the music, “I have the room for another hour.”

“That’s okay,” he called back. “I’m not here for the studio. I’m looking for Jenna McGovern.” He glanced up from a small sheet of paper in his hand.

Puzzled, I walked across the room and shut off the music. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

“No, we don’t.” He walked over and extended his hand, a friendly smile on his face. “I’m Bob Krueger. A friend of yours thought I might be able to find you here. Looks like she was right.”

I was growing a little nervous. This guy had wandered in off the street and could be virtually anybody. Hell, he could have been there to kill me for all I knew. “I’m not sure what this is about, but I have a lot of work to do and only an hour left here, so…”

“Of course, I apologize for barging in, but allow me a moment to explain, and if you still want me to go, I will happily oblige.” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and ran it across the top of his head. “I’m currently casting a show and doing a bit of scouting for my lead role. I was at a party, a get-together, earlier this week with some industry people and had a lovely conversation with a young lady who gave me your name. She said you were exactly what I’m looking for. Now I don’t know if that’s true, but in my experience, it’s best to leave no stone unturned.”

I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, curious but still cautious. “What show are you casting?”

“It’s called
Elevation
. It’s a dance show.” “Those auditions were last week.”

“They were, but we’re not done searching, hence my presence. Tell you what, let me give you my card.” He handed me a business card from his jacket pocket. “You can see I’m completely legit.”

“And you want me to audition?” My heart sped up at the idea of a second chance.

“Informally, yes. That is if you’re interested.”

“It’s not that. I am interested. I’m not quite at the top of my game yet.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that? Would you mind if I sat in for a bit?”

I took a deep breath. There was something about letting Bob watch me rehearse that felt somewhat invasive, but I also realized this was a rare opportunity. “I guess that’d be okay.” I walked to the center of the studio. “Would you mind starting the music? Track six.” Bob cued the music and I began to move. At first I was very aware of his presence, his eyes following each step, as he absently

stroked his chin. I sharpened my focus, concentrating on precision and technique. But as the music played on, I began to dance for me, losing myself as I often did, taking everything out in dance. I no longer saw Bob there. I didn’t see the mirrors that lined the studio walls. I was on my own, feeling my way through. On the last few bars, I really let go, moving wildly, spinning across the floor over and over again, executing the final jump and landing it cleanly on the last note of the song. I looked up from where I stood, breathless and feeling a little vulnerable once I met his still staring eyes. He didn’t say anything but looked overly thoughtful. Perhaps he was trying to formulate a polite way of thanking me for my time before he left to find another stone to turn. Finally, he stood and walked toward me. “If I can get my director and choreographer here in an hour, do you think you can do that again?”

“Um, sure, but I only have the studio for”—I checked my

watch—“forty-five more minutes.”

“Let me take care of that. I know a few folks around here. What do you say?”

“If you think it’s worth their time, I’d be more than happy to dance for them.”

He made his way to the door. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Before he disappeared, I called out to him. “Bob?” At the sound of his name, he stuck his head back around the corner. “Would you mind telling me who gave you my name at the party?”

“Adrienne Kenyon. She said you’d worked together on tour.” I nodded. “Thanks.”

Itwaslessthananhourwhen Rory Lindenandhischoreographer, Marley Thibodaux, arrived at the studio with Bob. After some introductory niceties, I repeated the performance I’d done for Bob as best I could, and then politely excused myself, leaving them in the studio to converse. But just getting the chance to dance for Rory Linden was enough to make my evening. When I returned, it was clear they were waiting for me.

Rory took the initiative. “How long have you been out of the game, Jenna?”

“It’s been a little over three years since I did
Clean Slate
in LA. I’ve done films since then, but have always felt more comfortable on stage. It’s what I’m trying to get back to.”

“You’re definitely good,” Marley said “but you’d have a lot more work to do. The role in question is incredibly demanding physically, and it would really test your body. Do you think you’re up to something like that?”

“I know I can do it. I just need adequate rehearsal time.”

“I have to admit,” Jamie said, “you’ve got a lot of things we’re looking for. I caught you in
Clean Slate
. You’re highly watchable, and you can sing too. If Marley thinks she can work with you, I’d like to offer you this part.”

I held my breath, looking to Marley. She studied my face for a moment, sizing the situation up. Finally, when I thought my head would explode if I had to wait another second for her response, a slow smile spread across her face. “Let’s do this.”

“Great!” Bob said. He clapped his hands once as Rory pulled me into a congratulatory hug. “If you’ll give me the information for your representation, we’ll get the ball rolling on a contract.” I nodded my head, still speechless. Moments like this just didn’t happen. A man had wandered in off the street and an hour later I’m cast as the lead in a soon to be Broadway show.

C
hapter
e
leven

F

or as long as I can remember, the beach had always had a calming effect on me. I could sit and watch the waves roll

in for one hour after another and be quite content with the whole thing. I took another sip of my coffee and allowed the heavenly liquid to warm me from the inside out. It was fairly chilly out this morning, but the sun was shining on the water and I knew it would be the perfect day for Lanie. I only had a few minutes to lounge on the deck of the beach cottage I’d rented, but wanted to enjoy every moment of it. I decided I liked the Hamptons and maybe one day I’d be rich enough to afford a little getaway abode like this one. The two-bedroom cottage I’d rented for “wedding weekend” was modest, but completely cozy.

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