by J. S. Cooper
“How do you like it?” He sounded curious.
“It’s fine. He’s fine.” I shrugged and looked away. No way was I going to complain about my new boss to a stranger.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry, I’m not going to say anything. I’m fairly new to Herne Hill myself. Only been here about five years. I’m not a huge part of the rumor mill.” He smiled congenially and lifted his glass. He had hazel eyes that seemed to sparkle and a mop of unruly jet-black hair. His boyish smile was infectious and I smiled back at him. “So, you’re here for open mic night?”
“Yes, you?”
“Yup, I’m an actor and I like to act out monologues. The locals here hate it most of the time, but I have good fun. What are you going to do? Sing?”
“Sing? Ha! I can’t sing to save my life. I will recite some of my poetry.”
“Oh, awesome, I’ve never met a poet before.” He took a long gulp of his drink, leaving a trace of white foam on his upper lip. He was a handsome man, too much of a boy for me, but I could see how many would find him attractive.
“I wouldn’t say I’m a real poet. I just dabble, but I enjoy it.”
“Don’t be so modest. I bet you’re great. What sort of poetry do you write?”
“Emotional and epic.” I laughed. “And everything in between.”
“Well, I’m super excited to hear it.” He leaned back. “Welcome to town, by the way. It’s always great to meet new people.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I sipped on my wine. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why did you move to Herne Hill Village if you want to be an actor?”
“Why? Do you think I won’t catch my big break here?” He laughed. “I wanted to go to LA, but I had some unfinished business to take care of first.”
“Oh, what sort of business?”
“Just family stuff.” He shrugged. “My parents are from the village, and well you know how that can be ...” He took another sip of his drink. “Oh, look, Harry’s about to go on the stage. The night is about to start.”
I turned to face the stage and tried to quell the nerves in my stomach. There were a lot of people occupying the chairs now, ranging from what appeared to be young teens to seniors in their eighties and nineties. There was a buzz of excitement around the room, and I could see several people nervously shifting in their seats and whispering to their neighbors.
“Hey, everyone, welcome to open mic night. We have a full list tonight, so we’re going to get started right away. Remember, if you need a new drink or some food, just come up to the bar and we’ll serve you. To get the night started, we have Edith Shady performing the aria ‘Nessun Dorma.’ Edith, come on up.”
I looked over to Gordon, who was grinning at me. “You’re in for a treat.”
“Oh, is she good?” I asked, wondering if everyone was going to be some sort of superstar aside from me.
“No, she’s bloody awful.” He winked. “If you have earplugs, I’d put them in now.” He took two more deep gulps of his drink.
Edith, an elderly lady with purple hair and a white jumpsuit, began to screech an opera song that sounded vaguely familiar. I tried not to cringe. Instead, I drank from my wine glass and scrolled through my phone trying to decide which poems to recite. Suddenly, I noticed that the screeching had stopped and my name was being called. I stood up and headed to the stage, leaving my glass and phone on the table in front of me. I took the proffered microphone and smiled out into the crowd.
“Hi, everyone, my name is Savannah. I’m new in town. I’m happy to be with you tonight and will read some of my original poetry.” I looked into the faces in front of me and was pleased to see several nodding heads and smiling faces. Well, at least I knew they were listening to me. One friendly looking girl grinned at me, and Gordon gave me an encouraging nod. I took a deep breath and started to speak, my voice low with nerves in the beginning but growing louder as I gained my stride.
“I’m going to start with some of my shorter poems and end with a longer one.
* * *
“He didn’t hear your tears,
but
that shouldn’t be a surprise
he never heard your
laughter
either.”
* * *
A round of applause surrounded me. I paused and grinned, feeling like my poem had really been appreciated. I flung my right hand up and almost shouted into the mic as I started my second poem.
* * *
“RISE, my girl
fly like the wind
has caught your sail
own your truth
he might be gone, but
your story
still continues.”
* * *
“You tell him, sister!” the girl who had grinned at me earlier shouted out. I laughed as I saw a few middle-aged men sitting at the bar, sipping on their beers and rolling their eyes. Middle-aged men weren’t really my audience; in fact, men period weren’t really my audience, but I didn’t let that stop me.
“I like to call this one green,” I said as inspiration hit me. “And I want you all to know that this is the first time I’ve ever performed this poem.” In fact, it was the first time anyone would have ever heard it, including myself, because I was about to make it up on the spot.
* * *
“Green like emeralds,
Hard as stone,
They pierce me,
As if looking into my soul.
I thought I knew you,
You were so crass,
I thought you were just
Another self-centered ass.
But if I look beyond the leaves,
Behind the tall shaded bark
I can see that there’s a scared boy
Who’s trying to make his mark.
My heart doesn’t know what to do,
My brain is fried
But the whispers in my head
Say to keep on trying.
Green like emeralds,
Envy sparkles too.
Hard as stone.
I really want to get to know you.”
* * *
I paused and stared into the audience, my entire body on edge as Wade’s face popped into my mind. He was consuming my thoughts, my dreams, my world. And now here I was, publicly reciting a poem about him. I stopped and smiled uncertainly into the crowd, waiting for them to respond.
“Bravo!” Gordon stood up and started clapping. I grinned at him and took a little bow as the rest of the crowd joined in. I made my way back to my seat and as I reached Gordon, I grabbed my wine glass and took a long deep gulp of my wine, finishing it off quickly.
“How do you feel?” he asked me as I sat down.
“Exhilarated, embarrassed, pumped.” I leaned back. “But amazing.” I smiled. “Really amazing.”
“You did great.” He looked surprised. I didn’t know whether I should be offended or not.
“Did you not expect me to be good?”
“I expected your poems to be good.” He smiled. “I just didn’t expect that you would deliver them so passionately.”
“I’m a different person when I recite poetry.”
“I daresay that we all transform ourselves when we perform.” He leaned toward me and his eyes searched mine for a few seconds. “Was that last poem about anyone in particular?”
“No, not really.” I shook my head quickly.
“Aww, okay.” He looked uncertain for a moment and an air of sadness seemed to pass over his face.
“You okay?” I asked, wondering what had upset him.
“Yes, I’m fine.” He smiled congenially again. “I think that I will be called up next. You’ll get to judge me for yourself.”
“I bet you’ll be great.”
“Don’t bet too much money.” He laughed, and as he threw his head back, it struck me how handsome he was. When I looked at him from a certain angle, he reminded me a bit of Wade. I shook my head and sighed. I was
becoming obsessed with Wade, and that wasn’t good. Obsession was close to mania, and I didn’t want to become a maniac where Wade was concerned.
“We have another newcomer on stage tonight. Gordon, come on up,” the MC announced, and Gordon jumped up. He walked up to the stage with a confidence that I envied, beaming into the crowd as he took the microphone.
“Hi, I’m Gordon. Tonight, I’m going to perform a piece from a play I wrote. I hope you enjoy it.” He cleared his throat, placed the microphone back in the stand, and stood back. The lights dimmed, and a spotlight illuminated him on the stage. The crowd hushed, and I noticed that even the guys at the bar were staring at him in anticipation.
“What good am I if I don’t have love?” Gordon’s voice cracked, and he seemed to shrink into himself. “I go from here to there, and yet I feel as if I were nowhere.” He was talking earnestly now. “My mother, my mother she believed in me. She loved me. She saw herself in me. She wanted me to achieve my dreams, but when I didn’t, she crumbled. She crumbled more than me.” He clenched and unclenched his fists, pacing back and forth on the stage. “And now, now I ask you to love me back, to have that same faith, same trust, and to you, I’m invisible.” His breath caught and he coughed. He turned to look directly in front of him. “And yet, here I am talking to you as if you were here, as if you understood, as if you cared. What use is my life without love? I used to hate you, used to hate myself, why was I born into this body, why was I never good enough? Why? Just one change in our destinies. And it all could have been different. I could have been you and you could have been me. And then it would have been you begging me to love you. It would have been you wanting to be brave enough. It would have been you.” A lone tear rolled down his face.
I held my breath, blown away by Gordon’s talent. He was brilliant. I sat there in the audience, watching a man about to break down. And my heart ached for him. How awe-inspiring to have a talent to connect with people like that. A wry smile crossed his face as his eyes met mine for a few seconds. “I always wondered if I was someone that was incapable of being loved. Maybe I wasn’t good enough. Maybe I was born cursed. Maybe the demons that torment my mind will never leave. But then I remember that I have known love. I have felt its bliss adorning my face. I have kissed the sweet lips of a gentle soul. And though I still wonder, ultimately, I know it will be worth it. I may never have your love, but you, you shall always have mine.” He stopped then and burst into a huge grin as he walked back to the microphone. “Thank you, thank you.”
We all burst into applause, my hands clapping along with everyone else's. The lights came back on, and a satisfied looking Gordon walked back to his seat next to me.
“You’re amazing!” I said as he sat down. “You’re one of the best actors I’ve ever met in my life.”
“And how many actors have you met?”
“Not loads, but enough.” I smiled. “You’re really talented.”
“Thank you, Savannah.” He smiled, yet once again I could see that spark of sadness in his face. “I appreciate your kind words.”
“You’re welcome.” I leaned over and squeezed his hand. He looked into my eyes and an unspoken emotion passed between us. Gordon was a kindred spirit; somehow, I knew he was meant to have come into my life. “I should get going soon, though. I don’t want Wade to think I’m staying out all night, and I have to be up early to make his breakfast.”
“To make his breakfast, huh?” Gordon chuckled and sat back. “Well, I guess he’s a man who knows what he wants and has the money to pay for it.”
“Yes, he does.” I rolled my eyes and stood up. “It was nice meeting you, Gordon.”
“And you too.” He grabbed a napkin and a pen from his pocket and scribbled down some numbers. “Here are my digits. Feel free to text or call me at any time.” He handed it to me and his phone and I input my number into his contacts. “We can grab a drink or dinner, or chat, or whatever.” He stood up and reached over to hug me. “It was nice meeting you, Savannah Carter.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek that made me blush, and I smiled my thanks at him. I put the napkin in my handbag and headed out of the bar. As I got outside and reached for my phone to call a car, Beryl headed over to me, a concerned look on her face.
“Well, hello, dear, having a good night?”
“Yes, thank you.” I smiled at her, surprised that she was out at the pub.
“You off home then?” she mumbled. I nodded yes. “Good, good.” She paused and then stepped a little closer to me. “You be careful with those Hart boys, you hear.” Her eyes seemed to pierce into mine. “All that glitters is not gold.”
“Uhm, okay.” I nodded again.
“It’s like lasagna, dear, you might want it very badly, but sometimes what you need is a burger.”
“Uhm, okay.” I didn’t bring up the fact that she had actually given me a grilled cheese.
“They’re nice boys, but secrets abound ...” She paused and looked around. “And when secrets abound, you know what happens.” I was about to ask her what she meant when she suddenly gasped. “I should go. I’m singing tonight. See you around, sweetie.”
“Bye.” I gave her a quick wave and waited for the cab. Her words repeated in my mind. Be careful with the Hart boys, she’d said. Was she inferring that both Wade and Henry were bad eggs? And why would I have to be careful? I wished now that I’d asked her more questions, but given my experience at lunch with her, I wasn’t sure that I would have received much of an answer.
Chapter 10
I paid the chatty cab driver and got out of the car before he could start asking me more questions about why I’d moved to Herne Hill Village. I walked to the front door quickly, took out my key, and opened the front door. I closed it quietly and then paused to see if I could hear any noises emanating from the house. The house was deadly quiet, and aside from the light on in the hallway, there didn’t seem to be any other lights on in the house. I headed down the corridor toward the kitchen and wondered where Wade was. I opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water and then headed to the French doors to see if Wade was swimming. The pool was empty, so I headed back inside the house, slightly disappointed. I wiped my hair away from my forehead, feeling a bit sticky. It had been hot in the pub, and the weather here was humid. My hair was frizzy, and I knew that I needed a cool shower to feel better. As I headed back to my room I debated going for a swim but I didn’t have that many hours to sleep if I was going to wake up early to cook Wade’s breakfast.
I pulled up my top as I walked into my bedroom and sank onto the bed. I wanted to call Lucy, but at this hour, she was most probably sleeping.
I lay there for a few seconds and sat back up. I needed to take a shower before I fell asleep. I yawned and jumped off of the bed. Where was Wade? Was he with someone? I bit down on my lower lip as I pictured him with another woman. What did I care? I stripped down to my bra and panties and headed to my en suite bathroom. The cool water in the shower felt amazing, and I massaged my scalp with the mango-scented shampoo that was already in the shower. I scrubbed my body quickly with the soap and rinsed myself off, grabbing a big white fluffy towel as I stepped out of the shower. As I headed back to the bedroom, I realized I wanted a cup of hot chocolate and decided to head to the kitchen to make it.
“Should I change first?” I stared down at my towel and then shrugged. Wade didn’t seem to be home, so what did it matter? I walked back to the kitchen and turned on the kettle and started humming one of my favorite Adele songs as I waited for the water to boil. I opened the cupboard to look for the box of Swiss Miss hot chocolate packets I’d seen earlier when I heard a door open. My body froze as footsteps made their way toward the kitchen.
“Oh, shit.” I looked over my shoulder as a bare-chested Wade came into view.
“Hey.” He smiled as he headed toward me, wearing only a pair of red boxers. He looked at my wet hair and then down toward my bare feet and grinned. “Just had a shower?”
“Yup.” I nodded.
“I was just making some cocoa. I thought you were out.”
“I’m not.”
“I know that now.” I clutched my towel closer to me. “When did you get in?”
“A while ago. You?”
“Maybe fifteen minutes ago.” The kettle beeped indicating the water had boiled. “Do you want some tea or cocoa or anything?”
“I would love a cup of tea.” He nodded as he took a step closer to me. “Do you normally head to the kitchen in just a towel?”
“I didn’t think you were here.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“No, I don’t normally walk around half-naked when I’m in the presence of strange men.”
“I’m not a strange man, I’m your boss, and you’re saying you’re naked under that towel?”
“What do you think?” I raised an eyebrow and rolled my eyes, ignoring his quick laughter at my comment.
“Prove it to me.”
“Prove what to you?”
“Prove to me that you’re naked.” There was a challenge in his green eyes as he stared at me. I looked back at him and ignored the smirk on his face as his lips twitched.
“You wish.”
“Maybe I do.” He took a step closer so that he was almost pressed against me. I could feel his body heat on my shoulders.
I swallowed. “Not going to happen.” I shook my head.
“Are you blushing?” He touched my cheek lightly.
“No.” I moved away from him to grab some cups. Why did he have this effect on me? Why did I just want to grab him and kiss him?
“How was the open mic night? Did you have fun?”
“I did have fun. I performed some poems.”
“Oh, yeah?” His tone changed. “How did it go?”
“Pretty well, I think.” I was going to tell him I made a friend but decided not to. “What type of tea do you want?”
“Anything decaffeinated, maybe an herbal tea?”
“Sure, let me look. Sugar or honey or anything?”
