“I think that could work really well,” I agreed, standing up and taking the laptop into the living space with me. “Could you explain some of these stage directions to me, though? I’ll go through them here like I was acting it, just to make sure they all flow well.”
“Sure,” he said, staying in his seat.
“This is a two person scene,” I laughed. “That means you have to come walk through it, too.”
“Oh.”
He looked uncertain for a moment, watching at me with a somewhat sad look in his eyes.
It suddenly occurred to me that this could be very bad for my attempts to avoid any almost kisses again.
Stay professional! This is no different than any acting job or class.
He came over to me, standing on the other side of the room with his hands in his pockets.
“All right,” I said, fighting the tremor in my voice that would reveal my nervousness. “So this says that she—I—run in from stage left. So, the couch is the audience. Let’s say I already ran in and you’ve followed me. We stop at . . .,” I stopped to check his notes again. “Center stage. So we’re in the middle of the room now.”
I walked to the center and waited for him to join me, the knots in my stomach twisting as he came within touching distance.
We went through the scene easily, close together the whole time. I felt bad for rushing through things and not reading the lines with him, but it was getting harder to not bring up what happened. It didn’t help that the scene directly dealt with hugging, kissing, and declarations of feelings.
“And then the scene blacks out on them kissing,” I said, finishing out the blocking notes.
“Thanks,” he said roughly, our fingers brushing as he took the computer from me. His jaw clenched and released several times as he walked away.
“No problem,” I said, surprised by his sudden gruffness.
“I have to go,” he said, stowing his things back in his bag and picking it up without looking at me.
“Are you okay?” I asked quietly. “With us, I mean.”
“I told you I would never touch you like that again,” he whispered. “But it’s all I can think about. I can’t stay here with you and be sane.”
“Okay,” I gulped. “Do you want to come to class this weekend? Or will that be too much, too?”
“Maybe,” he said, shrugging with his back still to me. “I won’t know until that morning. Thanks for your help.”
He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked the few steps back to the door, opening it and leaving without saying a single word.
I stood in the living room, staring at the closed door in silence. He was still mad at me, but there was more to it now. He was hurt, more than I’d realized in the beginning.
What did I do?
“So how did it go with Evan?” Lizzy asked after her shower.
She’d had a busy shift at work and immediately got in the bath to relax when she got home.
“It was fine,” I said with a smile. “He’s got a good scene written down. I think the rest of the show will be a success, as well.”
“Great! Will you finally tell me what it’s about then? He’s been taunting me with it for a year now.”
“It’s a love story,” I laughed. “About a girl who moves to France and falls in love.”
“Really?” She turned to look at me, a surprised smile on her face as she towel dried her hair. “I would have thought he’d write about something more . . . manly?”
“Love can be manly,” I chuckled.
“I guess you’re right,” she giggled. “I just remembered I have something to tell you.”
She joined me on the couch, hair brush in hand. She’d changed into her pajamas before leaving the bathroom earlier, matching my own shorts and tank top.
“Tell away,” I said, turning the television off.
“This guy came into the restaurant today. Oh. Em. Gee. Mara, you would not believe how handsome he was!”
“Keep going,” I said, turning towards her and tucking my legs underneath me.
“Okay, so there was a super long wait, right? So he was standing by my station for almost an hour.”
“Did you talk to him at all?”
“You bet I did! If I wasn’t busy with something else, I was talking to him.”
“He didn’t have a date with him?”
“No, just his mom. It was her birthday and Olive Garden is her favorite restaurant, so he took her out. How cute is that!”
“Okay, tell me more,” I said excitedly.
“She was so nice, too. Anyway, their table finally was ready and I had to send them upstairs, which was sad. But then, when they were leaving, he slipped this piece of paper onto the stand, right by my hand!”
She picked her bag up off the floor and retrieved the note.
“He gave you his number!” I squealed in excitement with her.
“He said it was nice talking with me before, and then he—get this—winked at me. I always thought that was the cheesiest thing in the world to do, but when he did it I was sold.”
She beamed, happiness exuding off her as she looked down at the paper again, holding it like it was the map to the lost city of Atlantis.
“When are you going to call him?”
“I don’t know,” she said, tucking the slip back into the safety of her purse. “Isn’t there like a rule you have to follow, or something? I don’t want to come off as desperate.”
“He gave you his number. He wants you to call him,” I laughed. “You don’t want him to think that you’re blowing him off.”
“You’re right,” she said in horror. “Oh my gosh. I don’t know when to call! What am I going to do?”
“Calm down,” I giggled. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“You don’t understand,” she said. “I’ve never had anything like this before. I’ve been on a few dates, but no one ever stuck around long enough to put up with all the crazy. This is like something out of a fairytale for me. I can’t screw it up.”
“Call him Saturday then,” I said. “That gives you tomorrow to make him wait—while you’re working, I might add—and then you can relax on Saturday.”
“Will that be too long, though?” she asked nervously, biting her thumb nail.
“No,” I said with conviction. “Most everyone is working on Friday. He probably won’t be free to talk until Saturday either.”
“Oh, Mara,” she sighed, laying her head on my shoulder. “Is this how you feel with Chris?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you get excited just thinking about calling him? Do you replay everything you say to each other in your head?”
I thought about what she was asking, trying to remember if I’d ever really felt that way. Only one person that had done that to me came to mind.
“Yes,” I said softly, hoping she wouldn’t notice the lie in her excitement.
Chapter Twenty
“Have you been able to get hold of Evan?” I asked, pulling my plain black shirt over my head.
“Not yet,” Lizzy said, pulling her eyelash curler away from her face. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately.”
“He did seem upset about something the last time I saw him,” I said uncomfortably.
And I’m pretty sure it’s something I did.
My acting class was starting in a little over an hour. I’d hoped that Evan would call me and let me know if he was going to show up or not. When he didn’t, I tried calling, but couldn’t get him to answer. Apparently Lizzy was being ignored, as well.
“Maybe he just has some work stuff he needed to do. They have extra practices every now and then.”
“It’s also a double show day,” I agreed, trying to relax some. “I guess I’ll wait and see if he shows up at the studio. I texted him the address just in case.”
“I’m sorry I can’t come with you,” she said, her attention focusing in on her makeup job again.
“N
o you’re not,” I laughed.
“You’re right,” she said with a wide grin. “I’d much rather be going out with Aiden.”
“I told you he wouldn’t mind you waiting until today to call,” I said, sitting by her on the couch.
“I’m glad he didn’t ask me out for a later day,” she giggled. “I feel like it’s special, because we’re going out right away.”
“Have fun,” I said sincerely. “You deserve to have a nice man in your life.”
“I will. And thank you.”
She finished her work and turned to me, smile still plastered on her face.
“Don’t worry about Evan, okay? He been going through some stuff, before he even met you. I think he needs to work through it all. Then he’ll be fine. It’s not anything to do with anyone but him.”
“I know,” I said, knowing she wasn’t right. “It’s a silly acting exercise, that’s all. I was hoping it would help him with his play.”
“He could still show up,” she said encouragingly.
“Yeah. Well, Cinderella, I’ve got to get going. Have fun at the ball, don’t lose your shoes, and remember every detail, so you can tell me exactly what happened later.”
“Yes, ma’am!” she laughed, standing and walking to the closet to pick out her outfit.
“Love you,” I called as I shut the front door behind me.
“Love you, too!” her muffled cry answered.
I sighed, partly out of happiness for her. The other half was out of frustration at Evan. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I checked my messages again, hoping I’d somehow missed his reply. There was nothing.
I wish I could feel like none of this was my fault. Blaming it all on Steph would be so much easier. Of course, I still have no idea what happened between them. I’m pretty sure my almost ripping his clothes off and then telling him to leave me alone didn’t help.
Thoughts of the same caliber ran through my mind for the entirety of my trip to the studio where my class was held each weekend. It was small, like most everything in the city, but it did fine for what we needed.
My teacher was a kind, middle aged man, who really knew what he was talking about when he taught us to do something. He was one of the better—if not the best—teachers I’d ever had on the subject.
“Good afternoon, Mara,” he said as I entered the room.
“Mr. Clark,” I said with a smile.
“Your playwright friend arrived a few minutes ago.”
“Evan’s here?” I asked in surprise.
“Yes. He seemed very nice. I read through his scene and sent him into one of the practice rooms down the hall with Andrew. I think it’s very good, especially for his first piece.”
“That’s what I said,” I laughed.
“He seems very nervous, though. I figured you could go in and do the reading with him, just to ease the tension. If he were one of my students I’d expect him to deal with it, but I’ll throw him a bone today.”
“Thanks,” I chuckled.
“You’ll be in there for all of today’s class. I’ll come in and see how it’s going in a while. I want to see what you can come up with without my suggestions.” He pointed me in the right direction and sent me on my way, ready to address the student waiting behind me.
I quietly let myself into the small studio space, not wanting to disrupt anything that might already be taking place. It looked much like my voice lesson space, minus the piano.
Evan was sitting on a stool in the corner, haltingly explaining a little of the show to my classmate, Andrew.
Andrew was wearing black, as all students were supposed to. What surprised me was the bright red shirt Evan had on. I’d rarely seen him in anything other than his backstage clothes.
“Mara,” Evan said, standing up and rubbing his hands on his jeans.
“Mr. Clark sent me to read lines with Andrew for you,” I said warmly, trying to convey my willingness to work with him through my eyes.
“Great,” Andrew said enthusiastically. “I read through the first little bit. I think we can put on a good show.” He laughed, clapping Evan on the shoulder in excitement.
“Mara, can I talk to you for a second?” Evan asked, taking a few steps toward me and then pausing, as if waiting for permission.
“Sure.”
“I’ll read through it a little more while I wait,” Andrew said, picking up a few papers on the floor.
“I’m sorry I didn’t answer any of your calls or messages,” Evan said quietly once he was near me again. “I didn’t know if I was coming until I was practically here.”
“Are you okay?” I asked, concerned with how nervous he seemed to be.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I was sorting some things out in my head.”
“If you need anything, you know you can ask me, right? I mean—”
“I know. Thanks,” he said, turning back towards Andrew. “Let’s get started, okay?”
I shrugged out of my jacket and set it on top of my bag by the door. Remembering that the scene started on stage left, I walked over to that side and was quickly joined by Andrew.
“Here’s your copy,” he said, handing me my own tiny script. “You’ve read it, right?”
“A few times,” I said with a nod.
“I’m ready whenever you are,” Evan said, taking his seat in the corner again.
I took a deep breath, trying to block out every thought except for what I was about to do. It took me a few seconds longer than normal.
I quickly walked out into the space, feigning tears.
“Claire, wait!”
Andrew ran out after me, grabbing my arm and spinning me around to look at him.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
I checked my script quickly before going on, not remembering exactly what to say.
“Away from here. I can’t do this anymore, Paul! I never should have come to this country in the first place.”
“What are you talking about?” he continued, letting me slip away as I pulled my arm out of his grasp.
“Everything has been wrong from the start!” I cried, turning away from him. “I came here with all of these dreams and not one of them ever came true. My heart can’t take it anymore. I have to leave here, or I’m going to waste away into nothing!”
“You can’t leave!” Andrew looked at his script periodically, following it very well for having only just read it. I’d always thought that he was an exceptional actor.
“If you leave, I will waste away into nothing,” he continued. “Can’t you tell how I feel about you?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, turning back to him.
“I’m in love with you,” he croaked out, as if he was fighting his own tears. “I’ve watched you every day, falling more and more in love with each word that leaves your perfect lips.”
“But you were with,” I paused to check my script again, “Emily. Everything you did was for her.”
“No, it wasn’t,” he said, closing the distance between us and pulling me up against him. “It was all for you. The thing with Emily was a misunderstanding. I’ve loved you from the first moment I heard you singing in the courtyard.”
“You love me?” I asked softly, letting a slight tremble into my voice.
“And I’ll never stop,” he said with a nod, tipping my chin up and leaning in until our lips softly met.
“Okay,” Evan said, stopping the moment as he rose from his chair and walked over to us. “So, it occurs to me that while this play is meant to be a comedy, I might have written this scene a little dramatically and sent it right into cheesy comedic. I can fix that later. But right now, I feel like the acting is a little over the top on your side, Andrew.”
“What would you suggest?” He sounded completely enthusiastic and ready to hear what Evan had to say.
“Well, it seemed like you were trying to throw a little of your own emotional cry in there, which I get. I don’t think Paul would do that, though. You can’t tell for sure,
because you only have this scene to go with.”
“Right,” he agreed.
“So, try it again from this line, but be a little stronger about it.” He pointed at the line in the script, and then walked back over to his seat, leaning against the wall next to it.
“I’m in love with you,” Andrew started, a harder edge to his voice.
We went through the scene again, Andrew following Evan’s directions very well. As soon as our lips touched once more, though, Evan was breaking us apart, still not appearing happy with how it was turning out.
“You are really great,” he said to Andrew. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re not doing it right. I think it’s something I’ve missed in the writing. I don’t know.”
“I totally understand,” Andrew said, a smile still on his face. “I’m here to help you out. I’ll do whatever you need, so you can understand what’s going on.”
“You’re doing good, too, Mara,” Evan said. “Andrew just has the majority of lines here.”
“We understand,” I laughed. “Like Andrew said, this is reading practice for us. Today is to help you. Do whatever you need to.”
Evan rubbed his chin, keeping his thoughts to himself.
“Have you ever told a woman you love her before?” he asked, turning to Andrew again.
“I haven’t.”
“Dang. I was going to tell you to draw off that. It’s not really something you can feel and know how to handle until you’ve done it.”
He rubbed his face again before nodding to himself and wiping his hands on his jeans again.
“Do you mind if I read it with her real quick? I think I might be able to feel it out better that way, and then you guys can tell me what you think needs to be done to it.”
Andrew gracefully stepped out of the way and Evan took his place, his jaw clenching several times before he started.
“I’m in love with you,” he said softly, but the tone of his voice cut right through me.
My heart jumped a mile and beat faster than it ever had in my life as he went on, as if he were really saying these thing to me as himself and not Paul.
“But you were with Emily. Everything you did was for her,” I said through a dry mouth, hoping no one was noticing the way I was reacting to his words.
Taking Chances: A Sweet Contemporary Romance (Dreams) Page 16
