Chapter 23
The lobby of the Oakwood was buzzing with the all of the excitement of opening night as Cecily climbed the steps from the Will Call window to where Rorie waited near the top of the stairs.
“Wow!” Rorie whispered as Cecily approached. “You look amazing.”
Cecily gave the hem of her dress a flirty swish back and forth. It was a deep burgundy with a full skirt, and complemented her brown eyes and dark hair. It wasn’t the full-length gown of her dreams, but then again, this was suburban Connecticut, not opening night at the Met. Cecily’s cheeks flushed pink as Rorie’s eyes swept up and down her body in appreciation. She glanced down shyly, but not before noticing with appreciation of her own just how sophisticated Rorie looked tonight.
Rorie was dressed in black trousers with straight-cut legs in the style of Katharine Hepburn, paired with a black silk blouse, and Cecily thought she might be the only woman in the world who could wear the same somber colors every day and never fail to look stunning. Giddiness bubbled inside her, and when Rorie’s eyes caught hers, for a moment she forgot to breathe. It was the same reaction she’d had every time, since the very first day, but somehow it always felt new. She bit her lower lip and smiled.
“You look nice, too.” She handed Rorie a copy of the playbill that she’d picked up on her way in. “Souvenir? I’d have kept the ticket stub, too, but all I had was the staff pass for tonight that Susan gave me, and they took the whole thing at the door. I’m not even sure where I’m supposed to sit. Do you know?”
Rorie nodded. “It’s all taken care of. Do you want to go sit down now, or do you need to check in backstage for anything?”
“No, I went down earlier and everything’s looking good, so I’m officially off duty. Bailey reported in a few hours ago, and was finishing up in wardrobe when I left. Oh, and Phinn had the largest bouquet of roses I’ve ever seen delivered to Bailey's dressing room.”
“They’re very sweet together. I could’ve done without the front row seats to their make-up sex the other day, but I’m happy for them. Are they planning on going public about it?”
“Eventually. Bailey says they learned a lesson from their lives being an open book before. There’s a lot to be said for privacy in a relationship.”
Rorie responded with a noncommittal harrumph that stopped Cecily in her tracks. She hadn’t meant it as a reproach, but it could easily be taken that way since their disagreement on this issue had come between them on more than one occasion. Even though Cecily felt confident that they understood each other about the current need for secrecy, it was clear that hurt feeling from the past lingered. An out-in-the-open relationship was the one thing Rorie had wanted in college, and Cecily had been unable to give it to her. It was one of Cecily's biggest regrets.
The crowd around them pressed close as they ascended the stairs toward the mezzanine. Rorie was in front of her, leading the way, and Cecily reached out to grasp her hand from behind. It was a small gesture, but it was the best she could offer. She hoped her message was understood. The squeeze of Rorie’s fingers against her own reassured her that at least they wouldn’t fight about it tonight.
When they reached the mezzanine, Rorie made a sharp turn, away from the crowd. Still holding Cecily's hand, she led her down a corridor that was empty except for one or two people milling around.
“Where are we going?” Cecily asked, bewildered. She’d held season tickets to the Oakwood for several years, but had never seen this area before.
“You’ll see,” Rorie replied.
At the end of the corridor was a heavy, red curtain. Cecily’s heart thumped faster and she grinned in sudden realization of where they were. Rorie pulled back the curtain and gestured for Cecily to walk through. On the other side of the curtain was the same VIP box that Cecily had used to focus and calm herself during the dress rehearsal. This spot, and the thought of Rorie, were what had gotten her through the terror of being on stage. How could Rorie have known that?
“I thought they didn’t use these any more,” Cecily said, tingling with excitement as she looked around.
The small balcony space was empty except for two chairs, which were not permanent but looked like they’d been brought in from the lobby. Beside one chair was an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne, and two flutes. It was perfect. Cecily felt the prick of tears—the good kind—in the corners of her eyes, and smiled as she looked at Rorie in amazement.
“How did you pull this off? How did you even know—”
“—That you’ve fantasized about living out the Pretty Woman opera scene since you were fourteen years old? You might have mentioned it, more than once, during that first all-nighter we pulled for Professor Jackson’s class.”
“But that was forever ago! And wasn’t that right after we met? You hardly even knew me.” She looked into Rorie’s eyes, spellbound by their radiance, and how their glacier-like color was at odds with the warmth therein.
“Sometimes I think I’ve always known you,” Rorie replied, her voice hushed. “The moment we met, it was already an eternity, and after all these years, we reconnected in the span of a heartbeat.” A cloud passed over her face. “How could anything else ever measure up to that?”
Cecily’s throat constricted, her eyes stinging with tears that were not at all happy this time. It was opening night, and while the show would run for two weeks, after tonight Rorie’s part in it was done. There were things they’d agreed not to mention—the past, the future—but Cecily struggled in that resolve as she felt the present, the only time they had left, ticking away. “How much longer until you leave?”
Rorie’s shoulders contracted in an uncertain shrug. “My ticket has an open return, but the new director would prefer to have had me back in LA last week. I can put him off a little longer, but only another day or two.”
Cecily nodded. “Next week’s Thanksgiving. I’ll have a full house again. I’ve hardly given it a thought, but Tyler will be home from school on Tuesday, Chet’s returning from Malaysia that night, and my parents will arrive from Baton Rouge in time for the big turkey dinner.”
Rorie raised her eyebrows. “Good thing I’ll be gone by then. Sounds awkward.”
“Well, but maybe—”
The house lights flickered off and on, accompanied by the dinging of a bell. Cecily had been on the verge of suggesting a plan to keep seeing each other, but she wasn't sure how Rorie would react, and the interruption made her lose her nerve.
“Five minutes to curtain,” Rorie commented. “I should pour the champagne.”
Cecily took the flute from Rorie’s hand, watching it bubble and foam. Rorie held hers up for a toast.
“To a successful show?” Rorie suggested.
To us? It was Cecily’s first response, but she knew it was all wrong. There might not even be an us after tonight. “To a job well done,” she said instead, and clinked her glass. She raised it to her lips, but found her taste for celebration was muted.
There was a faint buzzing noise, and her purse vibrated against her toes on the floor. Cecily bent down and took out her phone, which displayed a missed call from Susan Monroe. Cecily frowned and tapped the button for voice mail. At that moment Rorie’s phone vibrated as well, and she answered. Cecily watched Rorie’s face dissolve into concern just as the message on her phone began to play.
“Cecily, it’s Susan. Please report backstage right away.”
Cecily gulped as she placed her phone back in her purse and stood to go. “Rorie?”
Rorie hung up her call and sighed. “It’s Bailey. You’d better go. I’ll come, too.”
They raced down the stairs and through the lobby, then out into the chilly evening air. The staff entrance was around back, and they went as quickly as they could in the dark, stumbling along the cracked pavement. The security guard at the stage door waved them in and moments later they arrived, breathless, in the green room. Bailey was stretched out on the sofa, moaning, while most of the cast and crew stood by in var
ious stages of confusion and alarm.
“What’s happening?” Cecily asked as Susan approached her.
“It’s Bailey. Everything was fine until a minute ago. The stage manager had just called places, she stood up, and then collapsed on the couch. She’s been moaning and writhing ever since.”
“Oooowwwww!!” As if on cue, Bailey offered a demonstration. “I’m dying! Someone poisoned me!”
Cecily’s eyes grew wide. “Is she serious? You don’t think one of Phinn’s crazy fans could have gotten in and done this, do you?”
Phinn, who was bent on one knee beside Bailey, looked up when Cecily said his name. “No! No way,” he said. “We got that sorted out. There hasn’t been any trouble since that day at the store.”
Cecily nodded. “She hasn’t mentioned anything to me about it since then.”
“Just to be safe, we’ve called for an ambulance. Cecily, I’m afraid that means you’re on.”
Cecily’s jaw dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”
Susan tossed her hands in the air. “We’ve got a full house out there! Patrons, season ticket holders, reporters from all the major news outlets. They’re all out there, waiting.”
“But can’t they come back tomorrow?” Cecily suggested hopefully. “She’ll be fine by then, probably.”
Susan stared at her. “Have you never heard anyone say that the show must go on? That’s a real thing, not just something show business characters say in the movies. Quickly!” She pointed toward the dressing rooms. “Wardrobe, hair, and makeup!”
Cecily felt the gentle pressure of Rorie’s hand on her back, guiding her in the right direction. “Come on,” she murmured. “I’ll help.”
When they reached the dressing room, Cecily closed the door and leaned against it, pressing her hands to her head. “I can’t do this!” Panic was setting in. “Rorie, I can’t!”
Rorie wrapped her arms around her and held her tight. “You can, and you’ll be great. Have some confidence! You know this part, you’ve rehearsed it. Forget about everyone else and do it for yourself.”
Cecily rocked back and forth in her arms. “What if I can’t? What if I fail?”
Rorie looked deeply into her eyes. “I have faith in you, Cici. You’ve just gotta believe in yourself, and don’t be afraid. You can do anything when you’re not afraid. Just remember that.”
“Okay,” Cecily replied, feeling her pulse as she absorbed the words. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “Hand me my costume.”
Soon she was dressed, with hair and makeup done. Pausing with her hand on the doorknob, Cecily turned to Rorie, worry etched in her face. “This is crazy. I’m nobody! The audience wants Bailey, not me.”
“So, surprise them.” Rorie kissed her softly on the lips. “Do you want me to wait in the green room, or back here, while you go on? I’d watch from the wings but I’m sure the stage crew is stressed enough without me getting in the way.”
Cecily paused to think. “No. Go back and watch from our box. I can see it from the stage and I’ll know you’re there.”
Rorie nodded. “Okay, that’s what I’ll do. Then I’ll meet you back here after the show.” She paused as the stage manager’s voice announced a fifteen minute warning over the dressing room speaker. “I’d better go now so I can get back into the auditorium before they close the doors. Break a leg, Cici.” She kissed Cecily again and left.
Cecily made her way to the green room, trying to focus on steady breathing instead of the knot of dread in her gut. Surprise them. Well, she could forget all her lines, lock her knees, and then pass out five minutes into the first scene. The audience wouldn’t be expecting that.
Maybe I can slip out the stage door while no one’s looking.
She drew in another breath, inadvertently holding it as she took in the scene in the green room. A paramedic sat with Bailey, taking her pulse. The poor girl was pale and moaning and slick with sweat, and a waste basket near her feet suggested she’d been sick. A police officer stood off to the side, scribbling in a notebook as he spoke to a grim-faced Susan. Phinn was pacing by the door, looking stricken as he watched Bailey helplessly, and Cecily’s heart broke for him.
She wanted to shake herself for even considering giving into something as stupid as stage fright when there were real problems going on. Bailey was in terrible shape, and based on the presence of a police officer, a crazed fan was a real possibility. Susan’s reputation, not to mention a huge investment of the theater’s money and resources, were riding on an opening night that currently was on the verge of disaster. Not to mention that Phinn looked worried sick, and must be wracked with guilt at the thought that one of his fans might be to blame. And yet there he stood, ready to go on stage. Cecily lifted her chin. If he can do this, so can I.
“Phinn,” she said as she approached and stood beside him, “I’m so sorry this is happening. Look, I know about you and Bailey being back together. I know what she means to you.” She smiled reassuringly as she placed her hand lightly on his shoulder. “This isn’t your fault.”
“But what if it is?” He pressed his lips together tightly, on the verge of tears. “I was so angry when she left, I was a jerk. I knew that fans were getting out of hand and I did nothing to stop it. When we got back together, I’m the one who wanted to keep it a secret, at least until after the show. I knew some of my fans would be furious with me if they knew about us, and I didn’t want to deal with the fallout. And maybe I wasn’t sure about how I felt,” he glanced in Bailey’s direction and the love was evident in his eyes, “but I am now. If I’d been braver, maybe this wouldn’t be happening.”
“Phinn, there’s still time to be brave.” Cecily’s tone was firm and commanding. “Both of us need to be. There are almost a thousand people out there waiting to see this show, and it’s up to us to deliver it. Which terrifies me. But I’m going to be brave, and go out there with you, and make that happen. And after we’re done, once you know Bailey’s okay, you need to sit down and talk about this until you’ve sorted the whole thing out. No more secrets, no more guilt. That’s gonna take a lot more bravery than me going on stage, trust me.”
Phinn nodded, and then they were whisked onto the dark stage. As the curtain went up, Cecily found her focal point. In the blinding lights only the edge of the private balcony was visible, but she knew Rorie was there, watching, and believing in her. Time to be brave. And it wasn’t just the show. Like Phinn, Cecily knew there were things that needed to be faced head on, before time ran out, and that it would require more bravery by far.
Chapter 24
Cecily surveyed her elegant suite at the Hotel Bentley with a sense of satisfaction. It was the nicest hotel in central Louisiana, and perfect for what she had planned tonight. Rorie should be here soon. Cecily had slipped her a note with the room number on it earlier in the evening, before leaving the wrap party. The show they’d spent all semester preparing for had ended tonight, and that was cause for celebration. But Cecily had other things on her mind tonight. Starting with just how completely bare she felt underneath her little slip of a robe. She shifted and felt the sheer silk graze her naked flesh, sending nervous jitters coursing through her as she glanced at the clock. How much longer would she need to wait?
She looked around the room for something to tidy, but everything was immaculate. She’d unpacked the day before, after checking in. That was the part she neglected to mention when she filled Rorie in on the plan. Sure, she had romantic intentions for their new abode, but booking the hotel room had been a necessity, too. She’d packed her belongings yesterday and left them in her dormitory for the movers her mother had arranged to collect them. Like it or not, her graduation and the end of campus life was a fait accompli.
Cecily planned to come back, just as soon as this dreaded trip to Connecticut was over. She was pretty certain she’d be disowned by then, once her parents heard all that she had to say. She was prepared, or at least as much as she could be. Ever since the day she first ser
iously entertained the idea of moving to New York, she’d scaled back on her spending to squirrel away every penny she could.
Well, not everything. She’d bought one gift first. It was wrapped in its little box and sitting in the drawer of the nightstand here in the hotel. But the rest of the money was safely in the bank, more than enough to secure a cheap apartment near campus until Rorie graduated, and fund a very modest relocation to New York. Not Manhattan. She’d need her trust fund for that, and no way would her parents give it to her. But maybe Staten Island. They could make do.
It was a pretty solid plan, and Cecily was pleased to have pulled it off. She hoped Rorie would be happy with it, too, when she explained it all. Which she would do tomorrow over a hearty room service breakfast. But first, she just needed to be—certain. She loved Rorie. That part she knew. But they’d never been together completely before, not ‘all the way’. Cecily flushed to realize she wasn’t entirely certain what that meant.
She knew the line you couldn’t cross when it came to boys; the line she’d flirted with in the back of cars in high school, and crossed somewhat reluctantly a few times with Chet. But when it came to a girl, she didn’t have a clue. Everything she’d done with Rorie had been amazing, and a far cry from what the dire warnings in church had led her to imagine might be involved. But what if there was something else she didn’t know about yet, and it turned out to be awful? She needed to know now, before there was no turning back.
Cecily hopped up and down in excitement as she heard the knock on the door. She opened it, flung her arms around a startled Rorie, and dragged her inside the room in her embrace.
Love's Encore Series (Books One and Two) Page 18
