by Raquel Belle
“Of course, Mr. Preston, and we have a press pass for you which would allow you to get backstage if you need to.” He handed me the tickets and the badge and then we were on our way through the double doors. Outside was just a mild reflection of how packed it was in the carpeted lobby.
“Sheesh, I can’t even look for people we might know. Let’s just go find our spots,” Naomi said and tugged my arm. We walked to the auditorium. We had orchestra seats, right up front. Whoever was responsible for securing the tickets did a fantastic job of picking seats.
“Oh, these are great,” Naomi said after our usher stepped away to help another party. I glanced around the theater at the rest of the people trying to find what their tickets had bought them. I didn’t spot anyone I knew, until I did. Beth Espinoza wore a fancy looking gold, cape-sleeved jumpsuit. Her brown hair was piled into a braided bun, and a few curly wisps escaped to frame her face.
“Who’s that?” Naomi asked.
She snapped me out of my focus, and I handed her my playbill. “I’ll be right back. I see a colleague.” Beth was three rows behind Naomi and I, on an aisle seat. She didn’t notice me until I stepped beside her, and then she looked up. Her hazel eyes seemed shocked then quickly annoyed.
I smiled. “Wonder why we keep bumping into each other…”
She glanced at the rafters and actually seemed exasperated. “Ugh, God, why?”
“What? We haven’t even started arguing. I just came back here to say hello, you know, as a professional courtesy.” I stepped closer to her seat as a wave of people brushed past me. More people were filling up the theater with only a few more minutes until the musical began.
“Great, you accomplished your goal. Hi, now please leave me alone.” She picked up her playbill and started reading it as if I’d magically disappear. Instead, I crouched, so that we could be face to face. Beth licked her lips but continued staring at the program as if I’d already left. I didn’t know why but bothering her was a lot of fun.
“It’s a shame you couldn’t get better seats, you know? The Tribune managed to get me and a date front row seats.”
“A date, huh? Aren’t you being incredibly rude to them right now?”
“She’ll be alright. I’m more worried about you sitting back here with the plebs and all.” I smirked and waited for her to take the bait. I saw the struggle on her face—her brows knitted together and her lips pursed the slightest bit. I couldn’t help but notice how perfect her lips were—they had the cupid’s bow shape and looked incredibly soft.
“Anthony… We’re in the same section. If you’re referring to yourself as a plebian, though, I would not disagree.”
“Did you even get a press pass to get backstage later?” My smile got bigger as her frown deepened.
“Leave me alone, Anthony,” she said and stared at the curtain with a stony expression.
“You’re no fun tonight. I’ll go back to my front row seats and think of some good jabs that’ll get you going, then we can revisit this conversation at intermission,” I said.
Beth shook her head almost imperceptibly but kept her eyes forward. I laughed and finally left her alone to rejoin Naomi.
“Why don’t you trade seats with her. She’s much sexier company than you,” Naomi said.
“I can’t believe how you’re treating your date who scored you impossible-to-get tickets to the hottest musical in the country right now,” I said.
“Oh, stop pouting… You love my abuse.” The lights in the theater dimmed, as did the hum of the audience. I took out my notebook for any random details that I’d want to remember later when writing about the musical. Soon, the curtains were pulled aside and Jonathan Fitzwales took center stage to resounding applause.
***
Intermission came around, and I was the first one out of my seat. “I gotta try and catch Jonathan in his dressing room,” I told Naomi.
“Why?”
“Just to make first impressions. Our scheduled interview is in a few days, so I don’t want to jump in cold, you know?”
“Alright, do what you gotta do,” Naomi said, as she waved me away like a princess being bothered by someone trivial. No matter how down to Earth she was, she still had her moments, and her posh upbringing came through. I walked quickly to the left stage exit, but instead of going through to the hallway, I slipped into the staff door.
“Wait a sec,” the security guard said and stopped me as soon as the door shut behind me. I showed him the press pass, and he took a deep breath that was chock full of reluctance. “Who’re you lookin’ for?”
“Jonathan Fitzwales,” I said.
“There are a couple other media types trying to find him. I can’t say if he’s in his dressing room. But go down this hall, hook right, and go down the steps. The signs will direct you from there. His room is number four.”
“Alright, thanks, bud.” I followed the guard’s directions to the staircase. The hallway seemed narrower the lower it went. Nevertheless, I jogged down the steps and came to a cornered off hall. An arrow was painted on the wall and dressing rooms was stamped onto it. The hallway had those annoying fluorescent lights. I followed the arrow to another staircase that led back up. Standing in my way, in the ridiculously narrow hallway, was Beth, of course.
“Are you stalking me just to bother me?” she asked.
“No, I’m going to chat with Jonathan, so, if you’ll excuse me…” I stepped close enough to her that I smelled her perfume. It was sweet, floral, and warm. Beth didn’t budge though.
“That’s what I’m going to do, so, no, I’m not moving. You can catch him after the show.” She put a hand on her hip and held my gaze. There was a clear challenge in hers. I laughed and scratched my cheek.
“Beth, you don’t want to face off with me right now. I’ll pick you up and move you.”
“You wouldn’t dare. I doubt you’re even strong enough anyway,” she said.
“Because you’re so fat, right? Yeah, I doubt most men are strong enough to pick up all that heft.” I grinned at her. She walked into that one. It couldn’t not be said.
“Fuck you. I’m talking to Jonathan now, I was here first so go back to your seat, Anthony.” Her leonine features looked angular in the lighting, and her eyes were darker than their usual hazel green.
“I love it when you boss me around. Must sting when you realize how much I don’t really give a crap about your demands. I’m talking to Jonathan now, and you can go back to your seat.” I heard the echo of a door open, then voices bounced against the concrete walls before the door slammed closed, and it was silent.
“I’m so not doing this with you right now, Anthony. Talk to Jonathan after the show. Why can’t you be a gentleman? It’s not like this is your only chance to speak with him,” she said.
“Be a gentleman? Really, that’s the best you’ve got? I’m only a gentleman towards women I’d like to take home for the night, and since that’s the farthest thing from my mind right now, you get me in all of my glorious asshole-ness.”
“Again, fuck you. You know what? You can stand here and filibuster until the show starts up again, or you can accept the cards life dealt you and talk to Jonathan after.”
“Seems like the musical is teaching you about government, huh?” I said, mockingly.
Beth growled. “You’re so fucking annoying.”
“You know what? I like that idea. Let’s stand here for ten more minutes and filibuster each other. That way nobody gets to speak with him.” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared her down until she shook her head and glanced away.
“You have issues,” she said.
“You’re playing right into them, so this is as much your fault as it is mine.” My jaw flexed, as we continued to stare at each other. I couldn’t stay after the play because Naomi and I had dinner reservations. Outside of the fact that she really wanted to see the play, we hadn’t hung out in forever, so this night was for catching up. Now, fucking Beth was shitting all over my plans
.
“Alright, fuck this.” I reached forward and tried to push her to the side so I could get around her. She wrapped her arm around my waist, and we pivoted to the side and fell back against the guard rail. Beth gasped, and I held onto her by instinct, unsure of her balance. Our bodies pressed together, and I was caught off guard at how soft she felt and how well she fit against my chest. She gave up the higher ground and side-stepped me, breaking the contact. Her eyes could’ve shot fire…she was that pissed.
“What are you? A child? What the fuck is wrong with you? If you need to see him that bad, fine, be my guest.” Her arm flailed out as she gestured angrily to the stairs, and then practically stomped down the hall. It was a wonder her heels didn’t break off. I snickered and hurried upstairs while there was still time. Anthony: one. Beth: zero.
Chapter Five
Beth
I didn’t even get to enjoy the rest of the musical. I was seething with rage the entire time. My chest felt hot, and I was pretty sure…that was the closest I’d ever come to hating someone. After the company took a bow, I saw him stand up from his stupid front row seat with some gorgeous woman. She was definitely the opposite of me. Tall, svelte, dirty blonde hair and smoky eyes that screamed sex appeal. She wore a slender gown with a pashmina wrap, and her hair fell in waves around her shoulders.
Part of me hated that his date was so attractive, and another part of me hated that I even cared. They stepped away from their seats and started walking down the aisle, towards the main exit when they could’ve gone to the left or right of the stage…I knew it was just so he could take one last stab at me. Anthony met my stare and smirked with that stupid, mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Have a good night, Beth,” he said and took his date’s hand to place on his forearm. What he said about only being a gentleman for the women he’d have sex with floated through my mind. I ignored him, took a breath, and avoided his date’s eyes as they passed. Now, I had a mission to carry out. I hurried backstage, the security guard recognized me and waved me through the stage door. Most actors liked to sign playbills after the shows, and they got outside as fast as possible. I hoped like hell that I’d be able to catch Jonathan before he left.
Backstage was a lot more crowded than I had expected, but I managed to slip past the throng of people and get to dressing room four. I knocked on the door.
“Yep!” Jonathan called.
I turned the knob and peeked my head inside. “Hi, Jonathan, I’m Beth Espinoza from the Post…”
“The Post! Yeah, yeah… We have that interview in a few days, right?” He waved me in, and I had to admit that I was surprised. He was a lot warmer than I thought he’d be. Jonathan had already changed into street clothes. His golden blond hair was combed back with gel or water, and a pair of square-frame glasses sat on his nose, but did nothing to hide the brilliant blue of his eyes. Oddly, they reminded me of Anthony’s eyes.
“Right, an intern was able to work some magic and get me a ticket for tonight. I have to say, you’re amazing in your role. The show is fantastic.” I shook his hand and sat down on a stool by the door. Jonathan smiled at my compliment then waved it off in an attempt to be modest.
“The show is fantastic. The whole cast makes it great. That and the writing, the music—all of the parts that come together to make a great musical is what does it, really.” His English accent came through with each word he spoke, as if he were returning to his real self while the character he played retreated somewhere inside him—to be resurrected on demand. A quick rap on the door was followed by it swinging wide open and nearly knocking me off the stool.
“Oy! Nathan, be careful mate.” Jonathan stood up, ready to rescue me, seemingly. But I held onto my balance…and the chair. The man—Nathan, stood in front of us with two sandwiches in his hands and a wide-eyed look of apology on his face.
“So, so sorry about that, miss. I had no idea you were there,” he said in a prominent British accent.
“That’s okay! How could you have known?” I said with a smile, then introduced myself.
“A pleasure to meet you. I’m Nathan, Jonathan’s best bud, and the bloke he convinced to come across the Atlantic with him.” Nathan put the sandwiches down and shook my hand. He had orange hair and a fair complexion. He was handsome—in a younger Prince Harry kind of way. Jonathan was definitely hotter.
“So, Jonathan had to convince you to come to New York?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Jonathan said, “which is crazy because Nathan is one of the producers for the show. He financed it early on with the original cast.” He sat down at his vanity counter and unwrapped his food. Nathan leaned against part of the huge counter and gave me all of his attention. His eyes were a clear blue, and he seemed like he was trying to figure me out.
“You did? Wow, you have a good eye for success. I remember hearing how hard it was for the show to get financed at first.” I said.
“Yeah, that’s why the writers ended up in fucking London looking for cash,” Nathan said.
“And now he can either retire tomorrow—a rich man—or fund every musical he gets pitched ever again,” Jonathan said around a bite of his sandwich.
I had to admit, I liked how comfortable Jonathan was. Usually people weren’t so candid when a reporter or journalist was in the room. But some people were comfortable wherever they went, no matter who they were with.
“That’s incredible. You know, Nathan, I’d love to get your contact information. Maybe we can set up a call or a coffee to talk about the early days of the show. It would be the missing link to my feature,” I said.
Nathan glanced at Jonathan, who nodded and shrugged one shoulder. He reached into his pocket and pulled a business card from his wallet. “That’s my cell number then. Keep it well.”
“I will, thank you. Anyway, I won’t keep you guys. I just wanted to say hi and introduce myself.”
Jonathan put his sandwich down and quickly wiped his hands. “Thanks for coming up. I can’t wait to talk more during the week, Beth.”
“Same here, and again, congrats on the show,” I shook his hand and Nathan’s, then made my exit. I didn’t take a deep breath until I was crossing through the auditorium. “That went okay,” I murmured to myself. Though, it would’ve gone even better if I had planted a seed about the Common Templars. That way Jonathan would know that I knew, and he would have had enough time to make up his mind about sharing details with me. Then again, it was probably for the best. Who knows… He would have probably just convinced himself to keep any information about the secret society to himself. So, I was stuck with springing the subject on him during our interview.
As I walked out of the theater into the chilly, November air, I wondered if Nathan was involved in the society. If he and Jonathan were that close, assuming Jonathan was in the society, then wouldn’t Nathan be too? My phone buzzed in my clutch, I popped it open, dodged a rushing pedestrian, and continued towards the subway entrance a couple blocks away.
“Hello?” I answered the phone without looking at the caller ID.
“Hello, is this my daughter? The woman I spent thirty-two hours in labor with and raised for twenty plus years only to be ignored by her now that she has her own life?” My mom’s Spanish-accented voice trilled quickly, making me laugh and groan all the same. She loved a good guilt trip.
“Mommy, how are you?” I said. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, loca. What’s up? You haven’t called me for weeks. I had to call your brother all the way in Miami to see if he’s heard from you,” she said.
I waited at the crosswalk for the light to change, and leaned against the pole. “I know. I’m terrible. I’ve been all over the place… You know me. Plus, I’ve been busy writing. My editor gave me a new assignment, so that’s pretty big.”
“Oh yeah? Tell me,” she said. “Wait, are you outside right now?”
The light changed, and I hurried across the street with the small crowd that had formed around me. The subwa
y station was just a short distance away. I slowed my pace, so that I could stay on the phone a little longer.
“Yeah, I just got out of a musical. I’m heading home now, I’m about to catch the subway.”
“Oh, okay get off the phone then. Be aware of your surroundings, and call me when you get to Brooklyn, or so help me, Beth, I will fly my shoe across the Boroughs,” she said, as she so often did. I cracked up every time.
“I know, Ma. Don’t worry, okay? We’ll talk soon.” I hung up and hurried underground. I had only a few minutes to catch my train. Luckily, I slipped in right before the doors shut. With nothing to do on the train other than sit, my mind wandered back and forth between what I wanted to research regarding the Common Templars and what Anthony would do to get information on them. He was probably preoccupied with that woman and falling behind on his writing.
I’d take whatever favors the universe dished out to me that would put his story beneath mine. That was one of the reasons I wasn’t dating as much as I used to. It gave me space to focus on work and not my current or next heartbreak. Either the city was filled with shitty men, or I attracted them with my heart on my sleeve. I believed in love, sure, and there was a real romantic in me. But my problem was that I wanted my prince charming, and he was nowhere to be found.
Chapter Six
Anthony
I stared at my computer screen, and all of the useless information I was able to gather from a few Google searches. There was literally nothing on the internet that could tell me if the Common Templars was a real secret society or not. I steepled my fingers in front of my mouth and wondered if Beth had gotten any closer to finding out about them.
“Why do you look like you just sucked on a lemon?” Naomi asked.
We sat at my kitchen island, drinking coffee and pretty much ignoring each other while we worked. As an architect with her own successful firm, Naomi always had shit to do, and I’d lost time that I could’ve used to work on my fact gathering. Naomi had ended up crashing in the guest room after we came back from having drinks. She went overboard on the shots and then went on an hour-long tirade about her ex-girlfriend, Jess. The breakup was recent and a shock to everyone who knew them. Naomi and Jess were like bread and butter, and I honestly thought they’d get married.
