Exit Stage Left Read online

  “Thank you,” I say, wishing I had better words. “Tonight was a dream.” A dream come true, not just fantasy.

  He meets my eyes, his almost transparent in the sunlight. “You belong with us,” he says.

  I want to agree, hope he’s right. The last few hours are everything I’ve ever imagined my life could be. “Is it like this every night?”

  He laughs, pushes back his golden hair. “Most nights,” he says.

  “It’s generous of you,” I say, suddenly remembering he’s rich and maybe I should act differently around him. But no, he’s Miller to me. Whatever his financial status.

  Miller shrugs. “I like having people around,” he says, voice darkening, frowning at the city a moment before his mood lightens again. “I hope you’ll be back.”

  It’s odd, I feel like I’ve learned more tonight than I did in both classes with Roger. “I will,” I say. “Maybe you could recommend a good school, too.” I’ve made up my mind I’m going for it. “I want to act for a living.”

  So amazing to say it out loud. Miller grins.

  “As if there was any doubt of that,” he says, leaning toward me to tap the end of my nose with his index finger. He’s very close to me, close enough I can see the sparkle deep in his gaze, the soft stubble on his chin. The laugh lines around his eyes and mouth.

  The morning breathes in, the sound of the city soft in the background as Miller leans closer. His breath is warm on my skin, the tip of his nose brushing over mine as his mouth descends. My lips part, eyes drifting closed.

  And the image of Ian appears out of nowhere. Reminding me of everything I’m about to throw away with this one kiss.

  I pull away from Miller with a soft meep of surprise before I can stop myself, guilt hitting me in the chest with the blow of a hammer. Miller’s own shock is edged by concern.

  “Riley, I’m sorry.” He pulls away. “I’m such an insensitive ass. After what you went through tonight—”

  I shake my head, hands now trembling, knees weakened, willing Ian away so hard the phantom vanishes. Leaving more guilt behind. “No, it’s okay,” I flap my hands at him like that will clear the air. Tension has returned, tightens my shoulders, making it hard to breathe. “I have to go.”

  I turn and run away from him, wishing I wasn’t such a coward, that, for once, Ian would leave me alone. Then guilt, around and around in a circle of punishment, even as Miller calls my name.

  The elevator doors close on him before he can reach me and I’m sobbing into the small space, hating how I just ruined the best night of my life.

  ***

  Chapter Ten

  I pull myself together as I hurry for home, head down, ignoring the early-morning traffic, catcalls from a construction crew who take a moment to make me feel like meat. So nice of them to be such assholes when I already hate myself.

  Aunt Vonda is gathering her purse at the door when I walk into the apartment, gives a quick cry of joy before hugging me.

  “I’m sorry I’m so late,” I say. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

  She leans away, shaking her head. “I wasn’t,” she says. “Maybe I should have been. But you sounded so happy on the phone.”

  I’m frankly shocked. I expected a lecture. She must see so in my face because she wrinkles her nose.

  “You’re a grown woman,” she says, patting my arm, hefting her giant bag over one arm. “And I’m not my brother.”

  Dad would have thrown a fit. Told me this was the kind of behavior he warned me about. Partying all night, though it’s not like me at all.

  Pisses me off he ended up being right.

  “I’m usually more responsible.” Why do I feel the need to explain myself to her? Because it’s true?

  “Riley Ellen James.” Aunt Vonda sets her bag down, grasps both of my hands in hers. “You have been nothing but a pet and a dear since you arrived. It’s been a pleasure having you. You had the courtesy to call. And it’s not as though I didn’t expect something like this to happen.”

  I stare at her, mute. She expected me to be out all night?

  “Your mother and I were friends, remember?” Aunt Vonda lets me go, retrieves her bag. “I even went to a party or two with her.” She laughs, rolls her eyes, pats at her hair like someone’s admiring her. “The most fun I’ve ever had.”

  The tight ball in the pit of my stomach loosens as I finally let go of the guilt over Miller and Ian. And remember the party.

  Grin before I can stop myself. “The most fun ever,” I say.

  “It’s not your fault.” She looks distressed a moment. “Your mother. Your father. Marie was Rick’s whole world. Losing Marie so young, and with you looking just like her…”

  She doesn’t have to apologize for Dad. “I know,” I say. Wishing I could forgive him for being an asshole all these years but not quite getting there.

  Aunt Vonda laughs. “I can tell you’re not drunk,” she says. Sniffs. “And you don’t smell like marijuana.” She shrugs. “And you’re home safe and sound.” She kisses my cheek, squeezing past me. “As long as you’re not late for work,” she shakes a finger at me, grinning, “I have no complaints.”

  “I won’t be.” I wave at her as she leaves, hugging myself in the sudden quiet of the apartment, only the hum of her refrigerator and the air conditioning breaking the silence.

  I go to my room, brush my teeth. Stare at myself in the mirror for a minute, looking at my pale auburn hair, my light green eyes. The dusting of the faintest freckles on my nose and cheeks. Mom’s face.

  I miss her so much right now. She would have loved the party, too. I just know it. I retreat to bed, lie down, try to sleep. But I just can’t, not with the night playing over in my mind, making me giggle, sigh and obsess over every detail.

  Returning always to that final moment when Miller tried to kiss me.

  I roll over and stare at the picture by my bed. The one of Ian and me, back when he was still okay on the outside, if not the inside. Still had his head of dark hair, the glow in his hazel eyes. And then I’m crying and trying not to, wiping at the tears as fast as they come.

  There was a time my mind would have conjured him, imagine him tucked against my back, spooning me, murmuring in my ear. When I could almost feel his arm around my waist, the heat of his thin body pressed to mine.

  But not now, with the morning sun peeking in my window, no matter how hard I try to call him to me. Staring at his picture does me no good, and though I consider getting up, turning on my laptop, watching a video of him just in case such an act would make a difference, I don’t.

  Things are different, now. Ian stays away. This time, while I’m looking at him, Miller’s face is the one that appears, the touch of his skin on mine, the heat of his breath. Blocking out the memory of my love.

  I’m not ready to let Ian go.

  If only I really believed that was the case.

  Instead of arguing with myself, I press my face into my pillow and do my best to send Miller away, too.

  ***

  I hand over a bundle of tulips to a smiling Asian woman and lean against the counter, stifling a yawn behind my hand as the doorbell rings on her way out. A small line of customers waits for me and I force a smile and the appearance of perkiness.

  Three cups of strong coffee and I was up and moving after a failed attempt to sleep. Caffeine or not, I’m really starting to feel the thirty-six hours I’ve been awake. Still, it’s easy to keep a smile on my face. Now I’ve pushed past my Ian moment, I’m buzzing with excitement for tonight even while I argue with myself.

  I don’t think I’m going to be able to keep up this pace. But I’m happy to try.

  As the day goes on, my mind whirling around my departure to the loft and my new friends, I start to wonder. Should I just show up at Miller’s? Or maybe I pissed him off, running away like that. Maybe I screwed up whatever it was we might have had. I have myself half-convinced to just get my ass over there with the other side arguing I should let him make a
nother first move when the doorbell rings and I glance past my latest customer.

  I see Aleah grinning at me and Piper bouncing off Ruben next to her.

  I smile back, all my worries gone as Miller waves, smiles too.

  After I finish with the mother and daughter, my friends drift forward to take their place. Piper hops up on the counter, sniffing a carnation he stole from an arrangement as Miller leans over, blue eyes full of amusement.

  “Yet again, we see a great actress in her natural habitat.”

  I blush, shake my head while Aleah laughs.

  “Beats waiting tables, sugar,” she says while Ruben’s “Amen!” is echoed by Piper.

  “Can I help you with some flowers?” He wants to play, I can play. Funny how taking off this morning doesn’t seem to matter in the face of his teasing. Nor does the fact Ian doesn’t cross my mind except in a fleeting moment of memory.

  “Yes, please,” Miller says. “Two orders. Another dozen long stems, if you please.”

  Aleah makes a face, crosses her arms over her chest. “Like she deserves them,” she says. I have no idea who she’s talking about, but Piper seems to agree with the sentiment, sighing dramatically as he hops off the counter and bumps hips with Ruben.

  The gorgeous Hispanic frowns. “You have no idea,” he says. “She’s brilliant.”

  “Right, I forgot.” Piper hangs from his boyfriend who shrugs him off. “Forgive me. The Queen Of All Acting is your new bestie.”

  I wish I know what they are talking about, but instead focus on what I’m doing, writing down Miller’s order despite my burning curiosity. And because my heart is pounding with worry. Who is she and why is he buying her roses?

  And why do I care? We’re friends…

  “And a single daisy,” Miller says, startling me. “Please, miss.”

  Weird. I turn to the glass case as Aleah rests her chin on her hand and watches me.

  “You were incredible last night,” she says in a wistful tone.

  Damn this blushing. I see Aunt Vonda grinning, minding her own business at the back of the work area. Sure she is.

  “Thanks,” I say. And then gush as I pull roses from the bucket, the chill of the case giving me goosebumps as much as my memories of last night. “So are you! I’ve never heard anyone sing like that.” Her voice made me cry, the love ballad she sang at the party heartbreakingly beautiful.

  “You haven’t heard anything,” Piper says, pushing his way between Aleah and Miller. “Make sure you give her enough to drink and she’ll sing you some gospel.” He swoons into Miller who supports him with a grin on his face. “Died and gone to heaven, muffin.”

  Aleah hums a quick tune and shrugs.

  “My daddy may not have left me much,” she practically sings the words, “but he did give me his voice.”

  “Can I get a halleluiah,” Piper says.

  I carefully wrap the roses as my friends all dutifully chorus back to him, myself included. And, to my giggling surprise, so does Aunt Vonda.

  She peeks around the large arrangement she’s making, a hopeful look on her face. “Maybe you’ll give us a little right now?”

  Aleah grins. “For you, anything,” she says.

  And breaks into Amazing Grace.

  By the time she hits the chorus, I’m crying all over myself. Verse two has me sniffing at the cash register, unable to see the buttons. I have to stop and listen. I’m not here in the shop anymore. I’m with Aleah, my mind on the deck of a rolling ship with seagulls crying overhead as I remember this song is not about religion, but about slavery and one man’s choice to beg God for forgiveness. I don’t come home to myself, perfectly still until the last line, “was blind, but now I see,” breaks over me like a wave. I’m clapping, Aunt Vonda is beside me, clapping, the three new customers waiting behind them are clapping and Aleah takes a bow. Blows Aunt Vonda a kiss.

  My aunt clasps her hands to her chest, shivering with barely-held happiness. “Thank you, my dear,” she says, as choked up as I am.

  Miller hands me his credit card while Aunt Vonda sighs and goes back to her arrangement. I wipe away my tears, Aleah speaking to one of the customers waiting in a low voice.

  “Who are the roses for?” I really couldn’t be more blatant about it, but Aleah’s song has shattered my control.

  Miller’s eyebrows rise a little. He just takes his card back with a smile. “Actually,” he says, “I was going to invite you to come along to deliver them, if you can.”

  “Where are you going?” And then it hits me. Silly, the flowers are for an actor. Just like the last dozen he ordered.

  I’m such an idiot.

  “There’s an opening tonight,” he says. “A great show, we all know the lead.”

  Aleah has just rejoined us, her jaw tightening as he speaks. “We think we do,” she says.

  Miller glances at her, but doesn’t comment. I notice her crossed arms, her tapping fingers on her forearm. “I think you’ll like it,” he says.

  I really want to go. “I work until seven,” I say, not wanting to ask Aunt Vonda, suddenly awake again and sure I can go another night without sleep.

  “Perfect,” Miller says, taking the bundle of roses into his hands, leaving the lone daisy in its tiny sleeve of plastic behind. “The show starts at eight. I’ll meet you here at 7:30?”

  Aunt Vonda is beside me, almost breathless in her need to speak. “Leave tonight’s cleanup for me in the morning,” she says. “Have fun!”

  I gape at her before turning and nodding at Miller.

  “Thanks,” I say. “I’d love to.”

  “A queen,” Piper pronounces, bowing with Shakespearian flourish to Aunt Vonda who giggles and blushes. “A queen among a garden of Eden.”

  Ruben hums a bar of music and the pair sings the line in perfect harmony.

  Aunt Vonda laughs out loud, shoos them off. Aleah blows me a kiss, Miller turning away with a little wave. I wave back, glance down.

  He’s forgotten his daisy. I grab it, even as I call his name.

  Miller turns back. “It’s for you,” he says.

  I hold the white flower in my shaking hands as the door swings shut behind him and it’s not until the sweet lady who’s next in line whispers, “Excuse me,” that I snap out of it.

  He gave me a daisy. Ian’s flower. I’m not sure if it’s a bad thing or only makes things more complicated.

  The craziest part is how did Miller know?

  ***

  Chapter Eleven

  I stand outside the storefront of Aunt Vonda’s flower shop, bouncing in my toes, my sandals a little too tall for the motion, making me wobbly. I managed to run home for five minutes on my break—at Aunt Vonda’s insistence—and pull a dress out of my closet, a pair of heels. I didn’t have time to do much with my hair, but a bit of mascara and lipstick and I’m good to go.

  I even raced through the cleanup of the shop at the end of my shift, not wanting to leave it for Aunt Vonda. She’s been so amazing to me, she doesn’t deserve to come in to a mess in the morning.

  A miracle, I’m even five minutes early, nervously pacing in front of the windows, using one to check my teeth for lipstick when I spot Miller approaching across the street, his reflection approaching me through the glass.

  I spin to face him, tottering on my feet, cursing the stupid shoes and my choice even as he comes to my side and smiles.

  Everything fades when Miller smiles.

  “You look beautiful.” He kisses my cheek, a soft and familiar gesture as though I’ve known him forever. I lean into him when he does.

  He’s stunning, as usual, though it’s the first time I’ve seen him in a suit.

  “You too,” I say, hating how I can’t come up with something better.

  Miller doesn’t seem to mind, leading me down the street, back the way he came. “The show is Off-Broadway,” he says. “Have you been to many yet?”

  I shake my head, hanging on to his arm, partially for balance, partially because I
like the way he feels next to me. “None,” I say, realizing how silly that is. “I need to start.”

  He nods. “Part of the job,” he says. “You’ll hate me for it, though.” His burst of deep laughter warms me past the mild evening. I catch a glimpse of Ian’s sad face in a shop window as we walk by, flinch from the image though the memory of my dead boyfriend keeps his distance. “You’ll never attend a play or film for fun again. It’s too great an opportunity to learn.”

  I choose to focus on Miller. And despite his need to warn me about dissecting story, I truly love that part. “I know what you mean,” I say, feeling shy about talking with him, knowing he has far more experience than I do. “I love watching for that reason.”

  He guides me through a cross walk toward a glowing marquis, “The Favored” written in plastic letters across the top, “Starring Bianca Sullivan” underneath. “That’s what I love about you,” he says. “You’re already thinking like a pro.”

  I’m blushing, wish I could turn off my thrill like a faucet. Did he say he loves me…? Don’t say anything. I precede him inside when he holds the door for me, knowing it was just a figure of speech, wondering why I suddenly hope it’s really more.

  Ian waves gently from the glass and fades away, leaving me to ponder this sudden switch in longing for him to Miller.

  The air is cool, a subtle tap on the cheek from the crispness of it pulling me back to reality the rest of the way. I swallow my guilt to the sound of the soft murmur of people, muted in the small lobby. Miller hands me a ticket, the edges rimmed in red, a small logo marking the top and I reach for my purse, my wallet. But he shakes his head.

  “Comps,” he says. “Freebies. On me.” Laughs.

  “So gallant,” I say. “That’s okay, I’m a cheap date.” And hope he doesn’t see me gasp for air.

  This isn’t a date.

  Miller laughs. “Good to know,” he says. “I’m not.”