A Midsummer Night's Fling (Stage Kiss Series Book 1)

by Beth Matthews

  The woman wrinkled her aquiline nose at the greeting. "Darling, are you ever going to get tired of that joke?" The newcomer had a slight British accent; Max's roommate, an Englishman named Lachlan, would love her. Of course, Lachlan loved all women.

  Isabelle crossed around her desk to make the introductions. "Max, this is Judith O'Fallon. She was in the company with me when we were teenagers. She directed a couple plays with the RSF a few years ago, she even played Titania that year I was too pregnant with Tierney."

  Judith grinned. "I played Titania in New York too."

  "Bragging, Jude?" Isabelle laughed. "Anyway, Judith is going to direct the first main stage production this fall."

  "Oh." Max turned to Judith, mentally flipping his charm dial to FULL. If Judith was directing the fall play it was never too early to make nice.

  Judith was tall for a woman, and as they shook she met his gaze with an unsettling directness, her gray eyes unblinking. "Pleasure to meet you. Max, was it?"

  "Max Fiesengerke."

  "Oh." Her eyelids fluttered. "Any relation to that movie star? Peter Fiesengerke?"

  "My older brother." He managed to get the information out without actually growling. I should have changed my last name. Especially if he was going to get upset every time anyone asked him about Peter.

  "I see good genes run in your family." Judith raked her gaze over him, her mouth quirking with pleasure or maybe amusement.

  "You're just in time, Judith." Isabelle ever-so-slightly moved between them. "Max, you're among the first to know: I've asked Judith to be co-artistic director for the company. She'll be overseeing Midsummer for me."

  Max gritted his back teeth, trying to stay standing after that hammering set of blows. A new co-artistic director. A stranger overseeing Midsummer. He knew Isabelle had felt overwhelmed by her workload, but bringing a stranger to oversee half the company seemed a bit extreme. "Does Rita know?"

  "Not yet."

  Judith sailed into the room and settled herself into the spare guest chair. "Max, I do like the direction Rita intends for this Midsummer. The younger cast and everything."

  Isabelle shot her a funny look, opening her mouth in question. Judith, oblivious, continued, "I have some concerns, though, about this Charles girl. Isabelle tells me she's never heard of her."

  "Nicola can do this part, I promise you." It was himself he was worried about. Shit, just seeing Nicola had him so wound up he was practically having a heart attack.

  But here were the artistic directors giving him an out. He could easily – well, maybe not easily – go to Rita and say Isabelle had put her foot down. And that would be that.

  So why was he still fighting so hard for Nicola?

  Because I promised Nicola. And Rita. He cleared his throat and leaned forward. "Rita wants Nicola. What will it take to get you two onboard?"

  "An audition," Judith replied. "I want this girl of yours to read for me. With you and with the actor playing Bottom. If she's any good then we'll see."

  He hissed his breath out. Maybe Judith wouldn't be so difficult to work with? It might annoy Nicola to audition for a part she thought she'd been offered fair and square, but he was counting on Nicola to be the more reasonable party here. He'd convinced Isabelle and this Judith woman as far as he was likely to. "OK."

  "Bring your girl in," Isabelle said. "Tonight. As soon as possible. We need to get Midsummer back on its feet."

  At this dismissal, Max hopped to his own feet so quickly he nearly toppled the chair as he retreated toward the door.

  "By the way," Isabelle said, freezing him in his tracks. "Is your brother coming to opening night?"

  "I don't know."

  "You invited him, didn't you?"

  "I invited all of my family," Max said, smiling while inside he burned. Do you have me in your company because of my talent or my connections? he wanted to ask.

  But he didn't; he wasn't sure he'd like Isabelle's answer. She'd hired him years ago when no one else would have. The only reason he had a career at all anymore was because of her. He liked to think that was because she respected his talent. He didn't want to know if it was because she'd been angling after his brother the movie star all along.

  Anyway, Max needed to hustle if he was going to get Nicola in to audition. Tonight. His head ached. Oy. "Judith, nice to meet you, I'll see you tonight. Later, Isabelle."

  Isabelle waved him away with a shooing motion, and Max allowed himself to be thrown out. He had an audition to arrange, after all.

  And an angry ex-girlfriend to deal with once he had arranged the audition, no doubt.

  ***

  Cassie was half-sprawled on the bed and staring at the front door through which Max had abruptly made his exit. "Man, I didn't know they made them like that in real life."

  "Like what?" Nicola asked.

  "Like a Greek god had babies with a Ken doll. Only better looking. I mean wow." Cassie gaped at her. "He's Peter Fiesengerke's brother? You dated Peter Fiesengerke's brother? You know Peter-fucking-Fiesengerke? The Sexiest Man Alive?"

  Nope, the sexiest man alive just left my apartment. Nicola popped to her feet, fighting to appear nonchalant even as her insides writhed. "We all went to high school together. I thought I'd mentioned I knew Peter once upon a time."

  "You most certainly did not." Cassie yanked her arm so Nicola was forced to fall back onto the bed. "So, Peter Fiesengerke's brother is an actor too?"

  "That's right." Nicola glanced at her digital clock and feigned shock. "Oh no! Don't you have to get to work?"

  Cassie turned her wrist over to look at her watch face. She narrowed her eyes then leaned back like a woman who would not be easily moved. "I have a few minutes. And you are being evasive. Nicola, why didn't you ever mention tall, blonde, and hunky before?"

  "I don't talk about him."

  "Yeah, but why?"

  Because talking about him reminded Nicola how much she used to adore him. Because talking about him, thinking about him, the two of them – us – hurt. "Bad break-up," she murmured.

  "A bad break-up means you mainline chocolate ice cream and stop washing your hair for three weeks. You don't pretend your ex never existed."

  Nicola gave a brittle chuckle, feeling herself teeter near the ragged edge. "We had an extinction level break-up then. How's that?"

  "Nic – "

  "Don't push this, Cass. Please."

  Cassie folded her arms, her eyes unhappy. "All I was going to say was if the situation is that bad, are you sure you want to work with the guy?"

  Yes. God, yes. The answer surged through Nicola, blazing with certainty. Dating Max had been frustrating, exhilarating, wonderful, heart-rending. Acting with Max was pure pleasure. "He's not a bad guy. Just the wrong guy for me."

  "Can I ask what happened with you two?"

  You can ask but . . .

  But Cassie was still worried, her mouth twisted, eyes pinched. Nicola sighed. If she didn't give Cassie some scraps, her Mother Hen of a friend would worry herself sick.

  Nicola snagged one of her pillows and hugged its softness against herself as her stomach churned. "So, me and Max. We dated in high school." Ugh their stupid prom picture was buried somewhere in all her mess too. Dammit. Dredging through the muck of her old life had suddenly become a lot more painful. And it had already been painful enough before Max's visit.

  Nicola squished her pillow and continued, "Back then Max and I were always on and off. We'd break up a lot, but only for a day or two."

  "Couldn't stay apart."

  "Trite, but yes. I always felt safe with him, brave, kind. Like the best version of myself. And no one made me laugh like him. I guess we just. . . understood each other, had each other's backs." Her throat felt thick remembering. Max holding her as she made herself sick sobbing after her father cheated on her mother then left with the other woman. Her holding Max, watching him fight so hard not to cry when his own estranged father died. They'd grown up together in a lot of ways, been through so muc
h –

  "What happened?"

  Stick to the facts, Nic. Remembering all the emotional stuff would only hurt more. "Max drank a lot, and then he got into fights when he drank. He was a bit of a flirt, and I hated that. I didn't like his friends so he started partying with them more than spending time with me. That got worse when he started working more. He chose work and networking over me a lot."

  "Acting?"

  "Yeah. Max was already a professional actor in high school when we started dating. He had a few walk-on movie roles. Some guest spots on TV. Then the summer after I graduated high school he got a supporting role in The Last Quarter."

  "Sounds familiar."

  "The tearjerker about the high school football team. With the dog."

  "Oh, yeah. He's the one who dies in the car crash before the big game." Cassie blinked, her expression going reminiscent. "Wow. He sure grew up nice."

  "Yes, dear. Anyway, he fell in with a bad crowd on that movie. The drinking and the fighting got much worse. He was drunk more often than not."

  A sea of unpleasant memories seemed to lap against Nicola's heart now. Max dropping out of college to make more silly B-movies. Him trying to seduce her by drunkenly quoting Romeo & Juliet. Him barfing on her mom's porch. Paparazzi following them, scaring her, taking those horrible pictures of him drunk that always ended up in the magazines, on the internet. "My big deal-breaker was one night he crashed his car coming home drunk from a party. I thought he was going to get himself killed. I didn't want to be there to see it."

  Cassie whistled. "That'd do it."

  "Yeah." The first time. Nicola fought not to look like she was withholding information. But she could barely talk about this first break up. Wading into the mess of the second time Max broke her heart might kill her. She hugged her pillow. "We were together for years. Well into our twenties." She swallowed. "Ah, first love. It's always traumatic out of all proportion to the rest of your love life, right?"

  At this, Cassie gave her the fish eye, suspicious.

  However, Nicola was saved from further interrogation when her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, drumming against the box of pans she hadn't unpacked yet. She snagged the phone. "Hello?"

  "Mi esperanza! My beautiful girl! Maxim says you will do the part for me."

  Nicola beamed, unable to maintain her doomy mood under Rita's bright enthusiasm. "Yes, Rita. I'm so happy to be working with you." And Max. She flinched at the thought. Shut up, brain.

  "Oh, mija, I cannot wait. You will be the most beautiful, the most brilliant Titania. There is only one small, insignificant detail Maxim maybe forgot to mention to you."

  Nicola listened to Rita for several long minutes in increasing indignation.

  Cassie, perhaps observing her expression, entered the kitchen nook, a worried frown on her face. What? She mouthed.

  Nicola waved her hand, In a minute. She grabbed the magnetic pad from her fridge with its attached pen then scribbled directions as Rita rattled them off.

  Cassie glanced at her watch. Her eyes widened. She pointed to the door in an I-gotta-go sort of way. Nicola waved 'bye' while inside her stomach writhed.

  "So you can come in tonight?" Rita said in her ear.

  "Yeah, Rita. No problem." Nicola said bye to Rita, hung up, then slammed her phone down on the counter. "Son of a bitch."

  Cassie came skidding back into the apartment, looking startled. "What? What?"

  "I have to audition. Tonight."

  Chapter Four

  Nicola's drive to the theater for her audition was pretty much insane: more than an hour long, involving four different freeways, then a long, long drive up a twisting road which skirted elaborate gardens and forest land.

  Every turn and scenic outcrop on that narrow, winding trip left her worried she had missed the theater somehow. Every other turning had her thinking she should flip a U-turn and retreat. I can't go. I can't.

  How could she work with Max? Seeing him had her twisted in a Gordian knot so tight even Alexander the Great couldn't cut through it. If she had to spend every day for the rest of the summer like this, rigid along every nerve ending, she was pretty sure she'd spontaneously combust. Long before she ever got to tread the boards as Titania.

  Then maybe you shouldn't have driven all the way out here.

  The driveway for a long narrow road appeared with a sign and an arrow: RSF Main Stage This Way

  The drive was shorter than the winding road had been, yet the short path felt eons longer. She flexed her fingers around the steering wheel, sending up a rhythmic squish, squish-squish, squish from the rubber.

  She pulled into a sandy lot with wooden logs to mark the parking spaces then dropped her head to the wheel of her car. Her heart was pounding, her throat dry and thick with approaching panic. I can't go. I can't.

  She heaved out a long, sighing breath, irritated with herself more than anyone else.

  If you aren't going in then why did you put on your favorite audition outfit? Why did you bring a stack of pics and resumes? And why did you waste all this time and gas money driving to Pasadena if you aren't going to do the stupid audition?

  She sat up straight in the car, breathing in, out. In. Out.

  In. Max didn't matter. Out. The opportunity mattered. In. So what if they were going to work together? In. Out. In. So what if she saw him all day – in, in, in – every day for the rest of the summer –

  "Oh, shit." She dropped her head down and fought not to hyperventilate, trying to soothe her rampaging heart.

  You're being ridiculous.

  "Yes, brain, I know. Thank you for the input."

  Get out of the car. Do the audition. Knock their socks off. Worry about Max later.

  "Right."

  And stop panicking. All right?

  "All right."

  When Nicola glanced away from her steering wheel she spotted a tall, pink-haired girl leaning against the side of the administration offices for the theater company. As their gazes crossed, the pink-haired girl pushed away from the side of the cottage-like building and sauntered toward Nicola's car.

  Anxiety clotting in her throat, Nicola managed to pin a game smile on her face as she popped out her driver's side door. "Hello."

  "Hiya." Offering her hand to shake, the girl grinned.

  Woman, rather, Nicola realized as she stepped closer to exchange greetings. From the painted-on purple jeans and artfully ripped Black Sabbath shirt the stranger wore, Nicola had been thinking 'teenager', but now she figured the woman to be somewhere in her early twenties.

  The pink-haired stranger was also startlingly pretty. Gorgeous really. Pillowy red lips, dark eyes with an epicanthic fold, and a straight, leonine nose. From her eyes and bone structure, she appeared to be part Asian, but her hair provided no clue as it was dyed that blinding, bubble gum pink.

  Nicola nodded politely. "I'm Nicola Charles."

  "Tierney Haruko." Tierney jerked her chin toward the parking lot. "Max sent me to make sure you found the theater all right. Having a pre-audition breakdown, were we?"

  Nicola cleared her throat. "It's an important audition."

  Tierney shook her head. "Actors." She gave a small come-along wave of her hand. "We're meeting everybody at the main stage."

  Everybody? Nicola swallowed. The main stage? How big was her audition going to be? She clutched the folder containing her headshots and resumes in a stiff, angry grip.

  From the admin building, Tierney led her across a wide sidewalk toward the theater's front entrance, the one Nicola had always used when she'd come to see plays here. It had been years since she'd attended any RSF shows, not since a field trip in high school. The main stage theater hadn't even been built last time Nicola was here.

  The enormous exterior of the theater towered over her, like a castle waiting to be stormed. She glanced at the white and gold Elizabethan façade, scanning for angry archers or someone with boiling oil.

  Instead of leading her through the audience seating area, Tierne
y turned up a different side way which paralleled the back of the theater. As Tierney led her along, the wall abruptly disappeared, giving way to only hillside.

  "The others are coming soon." Tierney glanced at her over her shoulder as she walked. "I thought you might want a minute on the stage first. Takes people a bit to get used to the space." With that, Tierney led Nicola around the wall and onto the floor of the main stage.

  Nicola paused at the corner, her mouth falling open as she stared around her. The RSF's website had stated "the new Armina Elton outdoor theater has its own strange quirks," and they hadn't exaggerated; the building had basically been built snugged up to a small hill. Shuffling to the lip of the platform, Nicola wheeled to admire the whole set-up with the hillside. Instead of having a wall behind the main stage there lay a hill with trees behind to form a "forest." But it was a forest with a charming collection of trees and bushes to form the back "wall" of the theater.

  Yet, despite this homespun charm and quirkiness, when she faced the house she recognized the audience chairs were modern and comfortable, upholstered in a muted gray. The lighting and other tech equipment likewise seemed as up to date as anything, despite the fact half the building was forestland.

  The odd mash-up of elegant Elizabethan architecture, a real-live forest, and a modern theater left Nicola completely charmed. Like climbing through the cabinet to Narnia and finding a new world, this theater seemed to be an anachronism grown out of the ground. This space – part in, part out of this world – was a perfect place to stage A Midsummer Night's Dream.

  Oh, I want this part. She thought she'd wanted the part before, thinking about Rita directing and the exposure for her career and, you know, actually having an income. But now, seeing this stage, standing here cloaked by its magic and beauty, Nicola needed to get this part.

  She could remember only one other time she'd wanted something this badly, and fallen so completely in love at first sight before.

  Yeah, and that ended well.

  Shut up, brain.

  Tierney sidled up to her. "It's a good space, huh?"

  "Oh yes." With an effort, Nicola pulled her gaze away from the theater building. "I forgot to ask before, what do you do with the company?"