If the cast was nervous about the presence of the Broadway sponsors in the audience, they handled it well. The play went as flawlessly as any live performance could go, and by the end of the show, Erin was exhausted but excited. The applause at the end was long and loud.
Afterward, she drank bottled water in the dressing room while Anna helped her out of her costume and wig. Then she washed off the stage makeup and reapplied something more subtle for the opening night party. Her party clothes were hanging on the costume rack: the same silvery dress she’d worn to Nikki’s wedding, only this time with the addition of a light, matching wrap. She changed, then slipped into some high-heeled black sandals, small silver hoop earrings, and the Tiffany Camp Wallakee bracelet she’d gotten from Nikki.
Jocelyn changed too, into much flashier party clothes—a black sequined miniskirt and a gold tank with a draped neckline that showed off her smooth skin and toned shoulders. She applied her own makeup and tamed her curly hair with a black sequined headband.
Shortly before she was supposed to meet Brennan at his dressing room, Erin hurried across the empty stage and slipped out the stage door. They hadn’t made plans to meet, but he always waited for her on the nights he came to the performance. She hadn’t even questioned whether he’d be waiting tonight.
Matt leaned against the brick wall next to the garage door where large set pieces were loaded and unloaded directly onto the stage. His face lit up when he saw her.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” she said.
He pushed off the wall and came toward her. “I wouldn’t miss it. Congratulations, you were fabulous.”
“Thank you. And thank you for the flowers, they’re beautiful.” She hugged him gingerly, feeling like she was somehow wronging him, or wronging Brennan ... or maybe wronging both of them.
He pulled back and stepped away, putting a respectful distance between them.
“I guess you’re going to the party?” he asked, taking in her outfit.
“Yeah.” Erin drew her coat closed, suddenly feeling self-conscious in her dress. It wasn’t skimpy, but it definitely showed more skin than usual.
“Erin, I need to apologize. I wasn’t being fair to you,” Matt finally said.
She bit her lip, ruining her lipstick. “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you,” she said in a low voice. “I haven’t meant to lead you on. But obviously that’s how it came across.”
“Has it been that way this whole time?” he asked softly. “I thought we had a pretty good friendship as well.”
“Yes, we do. Or we did. But you want more and I guess ... I guess I can’t give it to you. I never meant to hurt you,” she added quickly, hating the look those words put on his face. “I hope like anything you believe me. And I hope you believe I hate the way it is now. I miss you,” she finished in a small voice.
“So we can’t go back to being friends?” he asked.
She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Is it even possible once you’ve crossed that line? Can you ever go back from a kiss?”
The stage door crashed open and Brennan emerged, looking like a model in his black wool coat and gray scarf. He’d shaved, and his dark hair was carefully styled. “There you are,” he said to Erin with relief. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”
Her gaze darted to Matt, then to Brennan, then back to Matt. “Sorry,” she said. “I came outside to ... for some air.”
They stood in silence for a moment, then Brennan stuck out his hand. “Brennan Avery,” he said to Matt.
“Oh, sorry,” Erin fumbled for words. “This is my friend, Matt.”
The two men shook hands, Matt looking as if he’d rather shake hands with a piranha. “I enjoyed the show,” he said tightly.
“Thanks,” Brennan said. “It’s been fun to work on a Jerome Kirby piece again. It’s been a while. Did you know I originated the role of Dashner in The Artful Boz, his play about Charles Dickens?”
“Never heard of it,” Matt said.
Erin caught the tone in Matt’s voice, even if Brennan didn’t. “That was clear back in ...” He frowned. “Was it 2008 or 2009? I can’t remember.”
“I’m sure you could Google it,” Matt said dryly, deliberately ignoring Erin’s look of annoyance.
Brennan smiled easily. “Or I could call my mother. She keeps scrapbooks of all my shows. Who needs Google when you have Mom?” He glanced at Erin. “We’d better get going, babe. They’ll be waiting for us.” He looped his arm around her shoulders and steered her toward his white Mercedes, which was parked along the street.
“Thanks for coming,” she called to Matt, her voice coming out thin and strained.
If he responded, she didn’t hear it.
**
Matt watched as Brennan helped Erin into his fancy car and walked around to the driver’s side. Brennan gave Matt a brief wave before climbing in and roaring away and it took all of Matt’s self-restraint not to make a rude gesture at the taillights as the Mercedes zoomed out of sight.
He decided to leave his car at the theater and walk home along the Mon River Trail. Taking the trail added at least a mile to his route, but the Monongahela River was soothing to his frazzled nerves and bruised heart. Besides, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do tonight.
He needed to get over her. She was moving on, probably literally when the play went to Broadway. Whatever they’d shared was obviously one-sided and obviously over, at least as far as she was concerned. All Brennan Avery had to do was snap his fingers and she’d gone running.
He picked up a small rock and hurled it into the river. Why did Erin get to hold all the cards? He’d screwed up by waiting too long to show her how he felt, and he’d been friend-zoned for it. And right when he’d thought she might be changing her mind, here came Mr. Showbiz Avery and he was right back to where he’d been before—waiting around for her and cleaning up after her drama.
Speaking of cleaning up, she was off to party with her dreamboat while Matt went home to Roswell. As much as he liked the dog, he made for poor company on a night like this.
He bent and scooped up a handful of gravel and peppered the river with it. Enough was enough.
**
Chapter 22
The party was in full swing by the time Erin and Brennan arrived.
“We’re late,” Erin fretted.
“Nope. We’re making our entrance,” Brennan said with a grin.
He was proven right when they entered the room and it erupted in cheers. Almost like a wedding. For half a second Erin expected a deejay to holler “Mr. and Mrs. Brennan Avery!”
Then they were engulfed, each drawn into a separate crowd of admirers. Somewhere along the way Erin acquired a glass of champagne and she sipped it as she circulated, accepting compliments, posing for pictures, and making small talk with dozens of guests.
As much as she loved acting, Erin was under no illusions. She knew it took more than stellar performances to keep The Azure Company going. It took patrons—wealthy patrons who were able and willing to write big checks. And it didn’t matter if she was tired or her feet hurt; in a lot of ways, she was still on stage and still playing her part.
Mona, Sean, and Jerome seemed to have developed a sophisticated system of tag, each taking their turn with one of the two Broadway producers. The unanswered question hung in the air like a fog: Was the show good enough? Would they take it to New York?
“You were marvelous, my dear.” A tiny old woman with enormous diamond rings on both hands patted Erin’s arm. “I want to come see it again; how long is the run?”
“Three weeks,” Erin replied. “We close October tenth.”
“It doesn’t seem long enough for all the work, does it?” the woman clucked sympathetically.
Erin smiled. “It never does.”
The woman tugged on Erin’s arm until she leaned down. “I hear there’s a good chance for New York?” she whispered conspiratorially. Her breath smelled like butterscotch.
�
��I certainly hope so.”
“The world needs this show, don’t you agree, Mr. Kirby?” the woman reached out a wrinkled hand to snag Jerome’s sleeve. Erin hadn’t even seen him walking by.
If Jerome was startled at being grabbed suddenly by an old woman in a crowd, he didn’t show it. “You’re absolutely right,” he said, spinning smoothly on the heel of one polished shoe to join them. “Trust me, no one is hoping more than I am that we can make it happen.”
“Well, if you do, you must take this young lady along as your star,” the woman insisted, giving Erin a beaming glance. “She was simply breathtaking tonight. And the chemistry between Charlotte and Heger ... amazing.”
Erin smiled and tried not to fidget.
“I agree,” Jerome said. “Erin is superb as Charlotte.”
Erin felt giddy enough to dance. Her eyes sought Brennan. He was across the room, deep in conversation with his own crowd of patrons—female patrons, Erin couldn’t help noticing.
As if he sensed her gaze, Brennan looked up and gave her a quick wink.
She grinned and turned back to the old woman in time to catch Jerome’s last words. “... a check directly to me or to the theater, whichever you are more comfortable with.”
“I most certainly will.” The woman gave Erin one more smile, showing her yellowed teeth. “Best of luck to you, my dear. I hope to someday say ‘I knew you when.’”
She moved off into the crowd, and Erin turned to Jerome. “Did she just promise a donation?”
He nodded. “Several thousand dollars. Now we’ll have to see if she comes through with it.”
“How do you do that?”
Jerome laughed. “If you’re going to make it theater, you have to know how to get money out of people. Build something from cardboard, spray paint, and glitter, but make them think it’s gold and diamonds ... and more importantly, get them to pay for gold and diamonds.”
She shared his laughter and even clinked her champagne glass with his, but after he moved away, she felt jaded and a little sad. She had never been naive enough to think the art of it was enough, but she was idealistic enough to wish it could be.
Erin became increasingly restless as the party dragged on. She was about to find Brennan and ask him to take her home when there was the sound of silverware on crystal. Mona stood in the center of the room, ringing her champagne glass with a spoon.
“This is coming rather quickly,” she said into the sudden silence, “but I’m so excited to tell you the Collins Group has offered to fund an opening in New York. We’re going to Broadway!”
There was a moment of silence while they absorbed the news. Then the room erupted. Jocelyn appeared from nowhere, squealing as she threw her arms around a stunned Erin. Erin returned the hug, searching the crowd for Brennan over Jocelyn’s shoulder.
Suddenly Brennan was there, sweeping her into his arms, away from Jocelyn. The room whirled as he spun her in a circle, and she was dimly aware of the faces streaming by amid dozens of camera flashes.
Erin was dizzy by the time he set her down. She stumbled against his chest in her high heels, clutching at him to keep her balance. “I’m going to New York,” she murmured in disbelief.
Brennan laughed and kissed her. “I know, babe. It’s fantastic!”
The party ended late. There were still many details to work out, but Mona told them the plan was to open in the Shaw Theater off-Broadway the last week in November, a little more than seven weeks away.
“Seven weeks?” Erin had asked in disbelief when she heard the schedule. “So fast?”
“It’s about normal,” Brennan disagreed. “Especially if most of the cast is already in place.”
Not everyone would be going. Brennan was going, of course, and, much to her relief, so was Erin. “Of course you have to come,” Mona had said graciously, kissing Erin on both cheeks.
“And besides, I’ll make it a condition of my contract,” Brennan promised later as they stood outside her apartment. “They have to hire you or I won’t do it.”
Erin closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck. She was giddy and excited and determined to lose herself in the kiss.
But she couldn’t. Even as his lips touched hers, she was aware of how much her feet ached in her high heels and how tired she felt. When Brennan pulled her closer as his kiss increased in passion, all she could think of was the green-painted door with the brass knocker three places down from hers.
She pulled back.
“What’s wrong?” Brennan asked.
“Nothing. Just tired. It’s been a wild day.”
He kissed the top of her head. “It’s only beginning. Get some sleep, I’ll text you tomorrow.”
After he’d gone, Erin went inside and slipped off her shoes, sighing with relief. She stood in the darkness inside her apartment and let it all sink in. The play, the party, Brennan, and New York.
And Matt. She’d left him standing there in the parking lot, like an unfinished sentence.
She glanced at her phone. It was almost two o’clock in the morning. But this couldn’t wait and she knew he’d still be awake.
She grabbed her slippers and padded down the hallway. Matt answered her light knock. He wore striped pajama bottoms and an old T-shirt. His eyes were shadowed and tired. At his side, Roswell wagged his tail and tried to jump on Erin.
Matt turned and went back into the apartment ahead of her, leaving her to struggle with the dog. When she’d finally made it inside and shut the door, he gave her a measured look. “How’d it go?”
There was something different in his eyes, something ... hard. A look she hadn’t seen before. “Good,” she said warily. “We’re going to New York.”
He stood in the center of the room, arms folded. “That’s great,” he said in a neutral tone. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks. We’re all very excited.” Only right now it didn’t feel exciting. It felt sad. Like the end of an era.
“As long as I’m at it, I may as well congratulate you on your boyfriend,” Matt said, not bothering to keep the bitterness from his voice.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Erin replied.
It was the wrong thing to say. “Really?” Matt scowled. “I couldn’t tell.”
Erin flicked her hair away from her face. “What’s with you tonight?”
He shrugged. “Who knows. Maybe it’s late and I’ve been at work all day. Maybe I’m sick of taking the dumb dog out to pee. Maybe I’m tired of being used.”
“Used?” She took a step back. “Is that what you think I’ve been doing?”
“I really don’t know anymore, Erin. For a while I thought we had a pretty good thing going, and then ...” he sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. Roswell whined and Matt glared at him. “Go lie, down,” he ordered and Roswell slunk off to the bedroom.
“Then what?” Erin prodded.
“Then when I put all the pieces together, I see a different picture. You do whatever you want and I wait around wishing you’d notice me. Only you don’t. At least not until you get in over your head. Then you holler and I come running.”
“That’s not ... I don’t ...” she began. But her words rang hollow. Because he was right. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said quietly. “I haven’t meant to use you.”
“Are you just saying that because you know that’s what I want to hear?” His voice had an edge of cynicism she’d never heard before, so unlike the Matt she knew.
“No! I really am sorry. I guess I didn’t realize.”
“You never do,” he said. “You are so wrapped up in daydreams that you don’t even see what’s right in front of you.”
“What’s right in front of me?” she demanded.
“You have this idea that falling in love is supposed to be some big, dramatic ... I don’t know what. But if it’s not just like that, you won’t even consider it.”
“Falling in love?” She stared at him.
He hesitate
d, as if trying to decide whether to go for it. Then he plunged ahead. “Yes, Erin. I love you. As if it isn’t obvious.”
“I don’t ...” Her mind was a jumble, her emotions a confusing mix of panic and elation. “We never said anything about love,” she finally whispered.
Matt’s eyes hardened. “I know. And I won’t say it again; I just wanted you to know how I felt, I wanted to tell you at least once.”
Her head was fuzzy from exhaustion and champagne; it took her a minute to work out what he meant. “So that’s it?” she said. “We can’t even still be friends?”
He met her eyes with a steady gaze. “I have enough friends,” he said evenly.
She blinked through the sudden tears. This goodbye was the one she’d dreaded most and it was coming too sudden, too early. She’d been counting on having a few more weeks with him.
“Please don’t say that,” she begged. “I thought ... I thought you would ...” Her words faltered. What had she thought? That he’d be content to stay in the shadows indefinitely?
She could see the muscles in his jaw working as he ground his teeth. “Goodbye Erin,” he said softly.
Tears ran down her cheeks as she wrenched the door open and fled.
**
Chapter 23
Erin had enjoyed Nikki’s wedding for many reasons, but the best part had been catching up with the Camp Wallakee girls. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed them, and how much of their lives she’d missed out on as they gradually fell out of touch. But she was determined to stay in closer contact with all of them.
Okay, crashing at Lindsey’s Brooklyn apartment could be considered too close in contact, but with everything happening so fast, she wouldn’t have time, or money, to hunt for an apartment until after the play opened. Lindsey was happy to offer Erin a place to stay.
Except ...
“I think I’ve brought too much stuff,” Erin surveyed the living room of Lindsey’s tiny apartment. Lindsey had warned her it was small, but even so, Erin hadn’t prepared for exactly how small. The living room was crowded with a love seat that folded out to a bed, an easy chair, and a bookcase, over which hung a small flat screen TV. The kitchen was one wall with a small fridge and a miniature stove and the two-seater dining set shoved up against the opposite wall.
The Passionate One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance Page 10
