Character Flaws: A Standalone Romantic Comedy

by Sierra Hill

For some reason, Theo has faith in me and doesn’t seem at all worried that I could fuck up everything in his production.

  With just a slip of the tongue.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Theo

  Getting drilled – by a fist

  Everything that could go wrong is since the moment I stepped into the theater this morning.

  Considering what a great night I had last night with Joey, you’d think I’d be in the best mood ever and nothing could get me down. All the sweaty, naked sex on every hard surface imaginable.

  I should be one mellow fellow.

  I walk back into the small office in the back – which is really just a converted supply closet without windows – and it’s hotter than hell.

  Birdie sits with her back to me, furiously typing something in her computer. She’s wearing a tank top, blonde hair piled up in a messy bun, a sweater draped across the chair back.

  “G’morning,” I mumble, picking up a pile of mail, most of which goes to the producer of the show.

  She whips her head around and the scowl that was there turns into a sultry smile. I swear she licks her lips.

  Oh shit. I’ve been able to hold off her advances over the course of the last two weeks. She’s been good about respecting our boundaries. But maybe she’s like a shark and can smell the scent of sex on me, even though I just showered all the remaining sex smell off my body this morning. What a sad start of the day.

  “Good morning, handsome,” she practically oozes.

  I’m caught off guard when she reaches out and takes hold of my wrist. I jerk away from the intimacy of the touch in these small confines of a room.

  “Whoa, someone’s jumpy this morning. Too much coffee or not enough?” she tries to joke, but it makes me uneasy and fidgety.

  I try to laugh. “Not enough yet. Did Maggie put on a pot this morning?”

  Birdie has all but stopped what she was doing and turns in her seat so that out of the corner of my eye, I can see the tanned flesh of her long, stickpin legs. She rolls a hand down her thigh, then reaches around behind her calves.

  I ignore the weird signals she’s giving me. Has she always been this overt or am I just now picking up on it because I have sex on the brain? I’ve had no interest in Birdie since I met her. She’s much too much woman for me. I fear she’s one of those women who are dominatrix’s and likes to chain up her lovers and whip them into submission with those floggers.

  I internally shudder at the imagine. Definitely not a scene in my playbook.

  Her voice is low and raspy, coming from right behind me. My head was bent as I review the stack of mail and then I feel her body pressed up against mine. I remain facing the other direction, but turn my head, as our noses practically touch.

  She’s right there.

  And then I feel her long, tapered fingers with the claw-like nails sliding over my ass, and then they reach around to my…

  I chuckle, dropping the mail onto the desk and carefully remove her hands from my hips and pelvis. Jesus, she’s a barracuda.

  “Whoa there. I thought we talked about this?”

  Didn’t we? Didn’t I make it clear with her from the start that this wouldn’t happen between us?

  She groans, hands come back to my waist and I spin around to face her, placing my hand out to provide some distance.

  Birdie takes it all in stride, waving a hand between us.

  “Oh come on, Mr. Prude. What’s wrong with a quickie before we start the day? I’m sure you’re just as stressed as I am. Sex would do us good. Let off some steam. Plus, I’m horny.”

  She tries again to once make a move, her bottom lip pouting as I slip past her toward the door.

  I should be more forthcoming with her. Tell her I’m with someone else. But I don’t because she’ll press for answers. It would drive Birdie crazy not knowing who I’m fucking. And there is no way I want anyone to know it’s Joey.

  “Birdie, I need a clear mind. First, I need coffee. But you know how tensions get between us. Sex is not going to be the answer. Okay? I thought we agreed on this topic? Not a good idea.”

  She flops back down in the squeaky chair and sighs. “Fine. I guess I’ll figure out a different way. But I’m not letting you get away from me, Crawford. I will have my chance. You can bet on it.”

  She winks and turns back to the computer as if dismissing me from her mind already.

  I decide not to respond and walk down the hallway toward the breakroom where I hear the producer’s voice. He’s on the phone, I think. I slow my pace as I come to a stop just around the corner.

  “That shipment was supposed to come in yesterday, John. We have unfinished sets for a production that opens this coming weekend. We need those products. Now.”

  There’s a pause, and then he continues.

  “You know I can’t pay for it upfront. You knew that and we verbally agreed to the pay half initially and then the remaining portion after the show’s opening. I don’t have that cash on me.”

  Oh no. This can’t be good.

  While this workshop is mostly volunteer, the only paid roles are myself, Birdie and the stage manager. Outside of that, everyone is volunteers, which means that the only overhead is the rental fees for the theater, and any set production costs.

  If we can’t get a set built…oh shit. That’s huge.

  I rub my temples where I feel the start of a headache coming on. This is the reason so many producers and directors become such assholes. It’s all the behind-the-scenes shit they deal with, along with the typical starlet and star egos they have to manage.

  Thankfully since this is class performance with newbies, I don’t have that to contend with. Just a handsy-horny co-director who may very well end up tying me up in bondage and spanking me bare ass if I’m not extremely careful.

  Niles gives a few more demanding pleas and then hangs up the phone with a curse.

  “Fuck.”

  I debate whether I should walk in there or not, but I’m in dire need of coffee so I take my chances.

  “Morning, Niles,” I say with as much nonchalance as I can muster, pretending I didn’t overhear a portion of his phone call. “How’s it going?”

  Doh.

  He grumbles. “Fucking cretins.”

  I pour myself a very large cup, locating the sugar packets and dumping a few in.

  Turning back toward him, I lean my butt against the counter.

  “Do I dare ask who you’re referring to?”

  “Prop suppliers and lighting designers. Can’t get us what we need when we need them, even though I was promised they’d be available when I ordered them.”

  I hum in understanding.

  “Anything I can do?”

  “Help me find some new set designers.”

  “Okay. Difficult, but not impossible. I can make a few calls.”

  We talk for a few more minutes when we hear a loud commotion coming from the main lobby.

  Without thinking it through, we push through down the hallway to see an argument happening between one of our female actors and a man. A very large man.

  “You’re coming home with me right this instant, Melody.” The big burly guy yanks on Mel’s arm.

  She’s one of our ensemble cast and outside of showing up and participating, I know very little about her. But a lot is coming into view now.

  “Go away, Tommy. Just go home and cool off. I’m not going anywhere with you in this state. You’re high and acting stupid.”

  It’s then that I see Tommy’s hand fly backwards and Niles and I jump into action. Niles pulls his arm behind him and I tackle the guy to the ground with a whomp.

  “What the-” he tries to get out as the air bursts from his lung when he hits the ground.

  A crowd has gathered around us – cast and crew showing up for rehearsals. My knee is firmly lodged in Tommy’s chest and Niles has his arms locked over his head.

  I’m overcome with a release of adrenaline and testosterone, made even more expl
osive when I glance up to feel a pair of emerald green eyes staring at me.

  Joey.

  And then because I’m distracted by the way her eyes lit up upon seeing me, and because Tommy is a hulk of a man, I’m suddenly flying backwards from what feels like a ten-ton brick in my eye socket.

  The next thing I know, I’m staring up into Joey and Birdie’s very distraught and concerned faces. But there seems to be duplicate of them both.

  Yeah, this day is not going the way I’d hoped it would.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Joey

  Theater geek turned hero

  “Theo, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

  Theo’s head is cradled in my arms, his head in my lap as I sit with my legs stretched out in front of me. The noise and chaos levels have dissipated now that they’ve removed Tommy from the premises.

  Glancing over to where Melody sits, her back up against the old wooded-wall, her knees drawn up to her chest and forehead at the top of her knees, I can now see what was hiding under the surface all these weeks. Although I don’t know her all that well, I do know she’s a sweet woman. Shy, reserved…and obviously scared.

  And right now, she’s shaking like a leaf, with a sob that departs from her lungs every few seconds. Birdie rushed over to Melody’s side, leaving me with Theo. She refused to call the police, which I think is a huge mistake, but she did promise to go stay with a friend and wouldn’t return to Tommy.

  Theo mumbles something incoherently.

  “Shh, it’s okay. Someone’s going to get you an icepack to put on that eye of yours.” I barely feather my finger over the top of his eyebrow and he closes his eyes in a flinch.

  “’Surts,” he complains, as he lifts one hand to touch that side of his face.

  I want to kiss him. Whisper in his ear that he’ll be fine and I’ll take care of him, but I can’t. There are witnesses. I’m already getting weird side glances from the crew because of the way I’ve positioned Theo’s head on my lap.

  Well, screw them. Let them think whatever they want.

  At a time like this, all that matters is that Theo knows he’s cared for and someone is here for him after his heroic attempt to thwart wrong doing. I want him to know how brave and amazing he was to stand up to that horrible abusive monster.

  I’ve always been a bit squeamish when it comes to blood and stuff. Two years ago, one of my students was tripped while walking into my class. The kid, Benny, fell into his sharpened pencil that had been clutched in his hand. He stabbed himself in his upper shoulder – poor kid.

  Blood spurted everywhere and it looked like a scene from The Walking Dead. I just stood there like an immobile zombie. I seriously couldn’t move. I watched it all happen in slow motion and it took three of my students yelling at me and shaking me to move into action. I finally snapped out of it and instructed someone to call up the nurse and I stopped the bleeding with my favorite knit sweater.

  Damn, I loved that sweater!

  Thankfully, Benny lived another day. And , of course, I received a new title, Hurling Miss Hughes.

  Because yes, I did immediately upchuck in the class wastebasket after the adrenaline wore off.

  But not now. Now I feel a calm to my core. I have no fear. I’m invincible. And slightly turned on, to be honest.

  The moment I walked in and saw Theo jump into action – all hulking alpha male – I may have had a mini-orgasm.

  He was my own Bruce Willis in Die Hard. Or Clark Kent. Or insert geek-in-real-life superhero name here. That’s who he is.

  Phew. Is it hot in here or what?

  I know I’ve teased Theo over the last few weeks since the Woody incident, about his less-than-alpha attributes. But there was none of that the moment he decided to defend Melody and go up against her attacker.

  Poor girl. I hope she leaves his ass in the dust for trying to lay a finger on her. Oh geez. What if this is her daily life? What if she’s been abused often by this horrible fire breathing dragon of a man?

  I shake my head to ward off the thoughts that my imagination conjures up and refocus my energy on Theo.

  “I’m not sure if I should be embarrassed or make a pass at you, considering where my head is at the moment.”

  I gaze down into Theo’s grinning face and know he’ll be okay, with or without the shiner now appearing in a deep black and blue under his left eye.

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” I reply, shaking my head. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  He squints and then thinks twice about it, his hand rubbing between his eyes, his expression evening out across his face.

  “So, you’re suggesting that getting me punched in the face turns you on? Does that mean I’m getting laid tonight?”

  I bite my lip trying not to smile, looking around to see if anyone heard his naughty remark.

  I place my finger at my lip. “Shh, be quiet. You don’t want people to hear you.”

  He waves a hand in the air. “I just faced a near-death experience. Life altering. I don’t care.”

  Rolling my eyes, I help him up into a sitting position so he sits next to me, both our backs up against the wall. And then the exterior door opens, the outside light blasting in on us as Carla steps through and hands Theo a bag of frozen peas.

  She shrugs. “It was all we could find. Went over to the bodega down the block. They didn’t have any other ice-related products. Hope that’s okay.”

  I speak up on his behalf. “Thanks so much, Carla. It’ll work just fine.”

  Sliding my arms out of my thin cardigan, I reach for the frozen bag and wrap it up in the material, handing it down to Theo, our hands touching, as I guide it to his face.

  He sighs and smiles a painful smile.

  “It smells like you,” he whispers, pulling the arm of the material to his nose and sniffing it like you see on fabric softener commercials.

  “Pervert.”

  He chokes out a laugh and leans his head back against the wall.

  “I’d only be a pervert if it were your panties.”

  Carla is still standing there and clears her throat with a squeak before she darts off down the hallway.

  Well, that’s one way to keep our romance under wraps. I snap my head toward him and only see the bag covering his left side of his face.

  “Ugh. I’m feeling woozy.”

  “Oh no, that’s not good. Here, lay back down.” I stretch my legs out once more and when his head lands in my lap, I see the devilish grin on the side that’s visible.

  “You shit. You’re not really dizzy, are you?”

  He turns his head so his nose is practically buried in my crotch and I feel his body trembling with laughter.

  “No, not really. I just wanted an excuse to put my face in your pussy again.”

  “Oh my God,” I screech.

  Bad move, though. Now everyone is looking our way and I have to pinch him in the side so he pulls his face out of my lady bits.

  Marlon comes sauntering up toward us, crouching down so he’s eye level with me. His eyes scan my face with the briefest of questions and then his attention goes to Theo.

  “Hey teach, you good, bro? That was quite a blow. Not something I expected to see at a community theater workshop. Maybe at my brother’s boxing gym where he trains, but not here. But you were badass, bro.”

  Theo nods and huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, man. If you consider badass getting smashed in the face. But I’ll be okay. It’s just a little swelling. We’ll still go ahead and do our final rehearsals tonight.”

  “Theo,” I admonish.

  He waves me off. “This is lesson number two-hundred and twenty in how to be a real stage actor. The show must go on. I didn’t lose life or limb, so we’ll work through the scenes as planned. I’ll just ice it a lot tonight.”

  Marlon stands up again. “Glad to know you’ll be okay. But I’m happy to step in if you need me to.”

  He’s referring to Theo’s part in the play as Che
ster. My look of surprise darts to Marlon and then down to Theo.

  I can feel Theo stiffen in my lap.

  “Nah. Thanks, though. I’ll be good as new tomorrow.”

  Marlon gives a thumbs up. “Good to hear. Check ya later.”

  I heave a sigh as Marlon strolls down the hallway into the opened doors of the stage area.

  “Well, I’ll make sure you get plenty of ice tonight. We can’t have you all black-and-blue this weekend for show time.”

  “Hmm,” he hums. “I know a really good technique for bruising.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  I feel like I’m walking into a trap based on the grin that’s reappeared across his mouth.

  “Oh yeah. Come down here and I’ll tell you about it.”

  He crooks his finger to me and I bend forward so my ear is just at his lips. His breath is warm and fans across my neck as he speaks.

  “You see, a bruise is just trapped blood underneath the skin. So, I figure, I just need to move the blood to another part of my body. Got any idea how we might do that?”

  He snickers and I stick my tongue out at him.

  He’s such a doofus.

  But he’s my kind of a doofus and I kind of like him anyway.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Theo

  Did you just quote Shakespeare?

  At least the day ended with a decent walk-through rehearsal, with everyone still using scripts in hand and rehearsing off-stage, but the flow of the show is finally coming together.

  Next week is the dreaded tech-week. The crew has been designing the set on stage and this will be the week where we’ll put everything together by doing non-stop full runs.

  My plans for the weekend involved spending lots of alone time with Joey and doing something fun to take both of our minds off of the play.

  She’s sitting at the kitchen counter, enjoying the pancakes I just made her and the hot coffee from her favorite coffee barista – me.

  “Hey, you want to go to the Shakespeare in the Park show this weekend?”

  Joey glances up mid-bite, her cheeks as full as a chipmunk, eyes wide.

  “Whasstha?” she asks through a particularly big bite.