by Kait Nolan
Oh, this was starting beautifully. After he’d gotten the cold shoulder all through rehearsal, Myles suspected he’d made a serious miscalculation. Time to fix that. “Okay, before we go any further with this, I’ve had a little time to think about how I came off yesterday, and I want to assure you that I’m really not an asshole and have no intention of pressuring you for anything. This wasn’t meant to force you into a corner or to break your personal rule about dating co-stars.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Then what was it?”
“Teasing and curiosity. If you’d been cooler-headed, I wouldn’t have known for sure I was right. But instead you dragged me into a closet.” Where he’d had to exercise considerable restraint to keep his hands to himself because what else was he going to think about when trapped behind closed doors in an itty bitty space with a beautiful woman?
Piper studied him with speculation. “So you’re saying you’re letting me off the hook?”
Myles cringed. “At the risk of leaving my incorrigible curiosity unsatisfied...yes. I won’t say anything to anybody. But you should know, the unsatisfied curiosity of a reporter is like the intellectual equivalent of blue balls. I’m hoping you’ll have mercy on my brain.”
She snorted as he’d hoped she would. It was such fun saying outrageous things to get a reaction out of her.
“It’s such a fine brain, I hate to be that cruel. Especially about something that you could probably dig up yourself if you knew the right people to ask. The back story isn’t too much of a secret around town.”
“Then you’ll stay for dinner? Tell me the story while I cook for you?”
“I’ll stay for dinner and tell you the story, while I help you cook. I can’t just sit with idle hands.”
“I can work with that.” Myles led her back to the kitchen and began pulling ingredients out of the fridge and pantry.
“What are we having?”
“I figured a nice simple stir fry. Easy to customize based on personal preference and fast. What do you like?”
“Everything. But not too spicy.”
“No Thai chilies then.” He grabbed a bamboo cutting board and pulled a vegetable cleaver from the knife block. “Can I trust you with this?”
She arched those delicate brows and put on an innocent face. “I don’t know, can you?”
“I’m watching you, Parish.” He set an onion, bell pepper, zucchini, and some mushrooms beside her, and turned away to start rice in the cooker.
“So, you already know that there’s history between Brody and Tyler.”
“Charlotte told me they were the theater’s golden couple, and then he up and broke her heart.”
“That’s the short, very uncomplicated version. I’ve known Brody forever. We started in theater around the same time. Tyler came later.” The steady crunch, thunk of the knife punctuated her narrative. “Our senior year of high school, she won the role of Laurie in Oklahoma. Brody was Curly. They’d known each other for years. This is a small town, so that was unavoidable. But they’d never actually thought about each other like that until they hit the stage together. That show was...unparalleled. Because they really did fall in love as Laurie and Curly did and the audience could feel it. Their chemistry was undeniable. People still talk about that performance all these years later.”
Myles set the oil to heat in a large wok and began slicing pork chops into bite-sized pieces. “I guess that wasn’t one of those false intimacies.”
“No. It was the real deal. They were inseparable after that. And so freaking perfect for each other, it was hard to remember they hadn’t always been together. Seeing them dance together, hearing them sing... I’m good. Tucker’s good. Tyler and Brody, when they played together, were professional quality. If they’d wanted, they could’ve taken Broadway by storm.”
What he’d seen this last week hadn’t come anywhere approaching professional quality.
As if sensing his thoughts, she looked up from the thin strips of bell pepper. “I can see that look of doubt on your face. You have to remember that this was before.”
“What happened?”
Piper sighed. “Brody’s parents were killed in a car accident our senior year of college. He fell apart. Went to a seriously dark place. Tyler took care him, handled all the details, even though it gutted her, too. She’d lost her mom to breast cancer in high school, so she’d been really tight with Mrs. Jensen. We thought, maybe, things were getting better when she convinced him to go out for Grease. Of course they got the leads. That was the default back then. By the time the show was over, Brody seemed more like himself, like he was finally starting to heal. And then a week after the show closed, he just disappeared. No note, no phone call, no nothing. Tyler actually called out the police, sure something awful had happened to him. It was months before she had proof he wasn’t dead in a ditch. And it wasn’t because he’d contacted her himself but because he’d arranged for a management company to deal with leasing his parents’ house.”
“Ouch.” He slid the meat into the waiting oil, listening to the sizzle and pop.
“She was devastated. And until this show, she hasn’t set foot on stage since. It’s been eight years, and she hasn’t moved on.”
“So when Brody showed back up...?”
“At first Tucker and I thought the best tactic would be keeping them separated. I’m the one who pushed her into auditioning. I’m the one who got her in this position in the first place.” She passed him the bowl of chopped vegetables, separated out by how long each would take to cook.
Fishing out the pork and setting it aside, Myles began adding veggies to the wok. “What changed your mind?”
“He did. I can see how he looks at her. I don’t know why he left or even, really, why he came back. But he still looks at her with his heart in his eyes. And Tyler wouldn’t be so upset if she felt nothing. As long as Brody was the understudy, she could more or less avoid him. Avoidance wasn’t going to fix anything. They need to work out their crap. Whatever the hell it is. So Tucker agreed to take one for the team so that Brody would have to take his place and Tyler would finally have to face him.”
“The theatrical equivalent of locking them in a room together until they kill each other or learn to play nice.” He added the meat back to the pan. “Here, stir this for a bit while I throw together sauce.”
Piper took the wooden spoon. “Something like that.”
“So what is it you hope to accomplish with this little ruse?” Soy sauce, brown sugar, some melted butter. Myles whisked the combination together before adding it to the pan.
Piper gave the lot of it a good stir before setting the spoon aside to let the sauce bubble and thicken. “I don’t know. A happy ending would be nice. God knows she deserves it. But...resolution at the very least. Closure. Whichever way it goes, she never got that before, and she’s never going to move on with her life until she gets it.”
Myles considered the situation. “Your heart’s in the right place, and I agree, the chemistry is apparently there, but there’s too much bad history between them. They need to be reminded of the good.”
“How?”
The first inklings of a plan began to percolate in the back of his brain as he pulled out plates, dishing up rice and dumping the fragrant stir fry over the top. “Well, you’ve already manipulated them this far. Are you up for a little more?”
“Possibly.” She followed him over to the table and picked up chopsticks instead of the fork he’d set out, just in case. “What did you have in mind?”
They toasted with chopsticks. “We’ll need to loop in Tucker.”
~*~
Speakeasy was packed. Every table was full, and dozens of other patrons crowded around, waiting for the show. Whether Myles’ plan worked on Tyler and Brody or not, Piper was forced to admit that the fund-raising aspect of it would definitely help out the Madrigal. The cast had commandeered the row of tables closest to the tiny stage. Brody sat camped out dead center, but there was no
sign of Tyler.
Myles materialized out of the crowd. “Everything’s set. The request list is pre-populated with duet requests for Tyler and Brody, and the donation jar has been seeded with some cash already to get things rolling.”
“That’s great. But what happens if Tyler doesn’t show?” What the hell had Tucker been thinking, sending Brody to break the news about the fundraiser?
“Don’t worry, she’ll be here. Tucker’s on it.”
“What if we’re wrong?”
“We’re not,” Myles assured her.
Piper caught her lip between her teeth. “But what if—”
He gripped her shoulders. “Hey. It’s going to be okay.”
Those hands slid down her arms and squeezed her hands. The gesture comforted her, reminding her that she wasn’t in this alone. Grateful, she turned her hands to clasp his and squeezed back. Someone moving past bumped into her, sending her stumbling into Myles.
His eyes met hers and his lips curved in that slow, melted caramel grin. It was the prop closet all over again. Heat and humor and that damnedable pull.
You have the rule for a reason. But as she looked up at him, mouth not more than an inch from his, Piper was having a really hard time remembering what that reason was.
Before she could do something stupid, like lean in to kiss him right in the middle of the pizzeria in front of God and a goodly portion of the population of Wishful, a cheer rose up from the door, spreading through the crowd.
“And there’s our girl,” said Myles.
Piper took a deliberate step back, missing his touch the moment he released her hands. “It’s show time.”
Tyler looked dazed as she trailed Tucker and his crutches through the crowd, blindly accepting handshakes and well wishes. She’d clearly forgotten how beloved she’d been. Tonight would be a good reminder, Piper decided.
“Hey there, everybody! Who’s ready for some music?” Tucker, official emcee for the night, grinned at the crowd.
More cheers and claps. Piper and Myles joined the rest of the cast and a handful of other folks she’d acted with in the past as Tucker launched into his spiel, waving a hand at the marker board mounted on an easel beside the stage.
“So here’s how this is gonna work. We’ve got our performers listed in tiers. The more you love ’em, the more it’ll cost to have them sing for you. The bottom tier will cost you five bucks per song per person. The top is pricier. Twenty bucks per song, per person. You want a duet, you get to pick who sings it and pay for the pair. Group stuff, same deal. We encourage you to pool your funds and remember that this is for a good cause, so don’t be shy! You can pick anything in the book over here. We’ll start off with a freebie to kick off the night. This one’s for everybody.”
On cue, Piper and the others crowded onto the stage. People were already lining up, cash and checkbooks in hand. At least half a dozen people stuffed money in Tucker’s jar as they kicked things off with a rousing rendition of “Any Way You Want It.”
Piper was first on deck after the group dispersed to the clutch of tables up front. As she launched into “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend”, she was gratified to see Brody drop into a chair next to Tyler. They had actual conversation without trying to kill each other. Progress.
In response to whistles and applause, Piper took her bow and handed off the mic to Tyler for her first solo of the night, “Maybe This Time” from Cabaret. Off to the side, Rick Stevens figured out how to operate the lights on the tiny stage and spotlit her for it.
Piper shot him a thumbs up and fell into Tyler’s vacated chair. “I didn’t think she’d come.”
“You know she’s not going to let the Madrigal down,” Brody said, not taking his eyes off her. “It’s too big a part of her history.”
It was too big a part of her history with him, which was why she’d worried. But Piper wasn’t going to open that can of worms with Brody.
Even without the pre-seeded list, the crowd kept Tyler and Brody steadily busy. Tyler started off a bit stiff during “We Go Together” from Grease. But she made Ethel Merman proud as she dueled with Brody on “Anything You Can Do.” By the time they rotated into Garth Brooks/Trisha Yearwood duets, she’d hit her stride, having fun and playing the crowd, sparking off Brody in a way she hadn’t done in years.
Piper guzzled a glass of lemon water and leaned toward Myles. “I think it’s working!”
“C’mon. We’re up.” He tugged her to her feet.
“We are? Singing what?”
“‘Quando, Quando, Quando’. Bublé and Nelly Furtado.”
“Who signed us up for that?” she asked.
Myles grinned back at her and offered a mic. “Who do you think?”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “So it’s like that, is it?”
His only answer was to take her hand and jerk her into him with a spin. As he began to croon, he began to move. Following the subtle pressure on her hip, Piper fell into his rhythm, grinning as she recognized a slow cha cha. He wasn’t smooth like Tucker or electric like Brody, but for an improv number, Myles was pretty damned good. She sang her response, getting into the dance with some undulating hip action that had the crowd whistling. He upped the ante again, taking a firmer grip on her hip and following the motion of her body, and Piper forgot about the crowd, able to focus only on the man and the music.
~*~
As they sang the final notes, Myles brought Piper to a stop. Her eyes were dilated, the pulse in her throat hammering, and it took everything he had not to take her mouth right then and there. Applause broke the spell.
She recovered first, turning toward the crowd with a laugh. “Myles Stewart, ladies and gentlemen! Our Bob Wallace is a man of hidden talents.”
Understanding his cue, Myles gave a sweeping bow.
They vacated the stage for Tucker. Myles wanted to pull Piper into the hallway, outside, anywhere but in the middle of all these freaking people. But she went back to her seat. Resigned, he followed.
After doing Nat King Cole proud with his rendition of “L-O-V-E”, Tucker made way for Tyler. As the opening notes of “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now” began to play, she looked out at the audience and arched a brow. “Really?” Somebody cheered from back near the door. Tyler just shook her head and offered up a little wave as she launched into the song, hamming it up, and wringing every ounce of parodied emotion out of the piece.
Brody didn’t seem to be amused by the performance. The poor guy looked like he’d been gut punched, white-faced and a little sick. What was that about?
When Tyler finished, Brody met her at the edge of the stage to take the mic. He murmured something that had her frowning before she returned to her table. The music started and something in the room palpably shifted as Brody fixed his gaze on Tyler and began to sing, “I’ll Stand By You.”
This. This is what Piper was talking about.
Myles watched, as captivated as everyone else in the room, while Brody serenaded Tyler with a sincerity that evoked all the feels, as his sister would say. Through it all, Tyler sat, cheeks flushed, twitching in her seat.
When he finished, the crowd went nuts, rising to a full-on standing ovation. Eyes still on her, Brody stepped off the stage, passing the mic off to Myles. Tyler was up in a second, jerking her head toward the fire exit and the alley. Without a word, Brody followed.
“Oh boy,” muttered Piper.
“That’s either really good or really bad,” Myles observed.
“I can’t stand it.” She broke away from the crowd of singers and cut toward the front door.
Myles tossed the mic to Charlotte and trailed after her. “Piper, you’re going to freeze in that dress.”
“Don’t care.”
“You can’t just eavesdrop on them.”
“This from a newspaperman?” She spared him a bare glance of disbelief. “What kind of reporter are you?”
She had him there. Giving up, he followed her outside, sneaking around t
o the alley that ran behind Speakeasy. They peered through the space between one of the employees’ cars and the wall as Tyler’s laugher rang out.
Hands clasping hers, Brody’s face was serious. “I hardly think this is a laughing matter.”
That just elicited another round of giggling.
Oh Jesus, he didn’t do something stupid like propose, did he?
Tyler managed to choke down her mirth long enough to get out, “Brody, Ollie is my dog.”
“Your…dog,” Brody said. “But I heard you talking, at the shop earlier, saw the toys, and I thought…” He trailed off.
The smile was still in her voice as she said, “You thought he was my son. That he was our son.”
“I…yeah.” There was no mistaking the disappointment on his face.
Tyler’s laughter died. “Brody, honey, did you honestly think it was possible that I could’ve had a child, your child, and somehow you wouldn’t have known about it? That I would have kept such a thing from you, if it were true?”
He released her to scrub both hands over his face. “Okay, yeah, when you put it that way, it does sound ridiculous. But I just…from what you said it sounded like you were talking to a child. And then he was seven. And…”
“You leapt to some really impressive conclusions. Why didn’t you just ask outright? If not me, then Tucker or Piper. They could’ve told you otherwise.”
“I figured if they hadn’t told me, it was for a reason. Same with you. I… I’m sorry for making things weird. God, you must think I’m an idiot.”
In the face of his supreme embarrassment, something in Tyler’s expression softened. “Doesn’t have to be weird if we don’t let it be. Come on, I’m sure there’s a list another mile long of requests waiting for us.” She held out a hand, probably the first gesture of peace and welcome she’d made to him since he got back. When he took it, she pulled him in for a hug. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For wanting to do the right thing.”
As soon as the door slapped shut behind them, Piper surged up from her crouch, flinging her arms around Myles’ neck and hugging him tight. “Your plan worked!” She kissed him, a quick smacking thing, ended on a bubbling laugh almost before it was begun.
Myles was out of self-restraint. As he slid his arms around her, Piper’s delight shifted to confusion, then awareness. He didn’t give her time to pull away before capturing that mouth he’d been dreaming about for weeks. If she’d pushed him away, he’d have let her go. Reluctantly, but he’d have managed. Instead she slid her fingers into his hair and opened for him on a sigh.
