by Dee, Bonnie
“I have something that can help with that. If you want, we could go somewhere and party.”
“I don’t really do drugs.” Gretchen hoped she didn’t sound too prudish.
“Just pot.” Jake’s words caught the others’ attention.
“I’m in,” Trinka said.
“We can go to my place.” Rashid was from Chicago, so he had an apartment. The rest of the cast and crew lived in the block of cheap hotel rooms reserved for the duration of the Chicago run.
“All right! Let’s go,” Steve added.
Gretchen felt like a leaf being carried along on a current. Minutes later, she found herself following the others from the bar. She cast a longing glance at the laughing cast members at the other table and wished she were with them. They felt familiar and safe, like family.
Rashid’s apartment wasn’t far from the bar and soon they were sitting on ratty furniture in his tiny living room. It had been weeks since Gretchen had been in a private home. Living in a hotel had gotten old fast. The apartment wasn’t anything like home, but it was a nice change from the hotel for an evening.
Rashid got them cold beers from the fridge while Jake rolled a couple of joints.
Feeling as out of place as a Quaker on a nudist beach, Gretchen perched on the edge of the sagging couch beside Jake. It wasn’t that she disapproved of pot for them, but she didn’t really want to smoke it and couldn’t refuse without looking even more Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm than everyone already thought she was. So she accepted the joint Jake passed her, sucked in smoke, held it then blew it out again.
Jake smiled, a faint twist of the corners of his mouth that never touched his sleepy eyes. “You haven’t done this before, have you?” He sat close beside her, the warmth of his arm pressed against hers. In contrast, she was barely aware of Steve sprawled on the couch on her right.
“No,” she admitted. “Why? What am I doing wrong?”
“You didn’t really inhale. You’re just holding the smoke in your mouth and blowing it out.” Jake demonstrated the right way, sucking in the smoke and letting it trickle out in a thin stream. He passed the joint back to her.
Gretchen took it carefully, afraid to drop it on her lap and look like an idiot. Her fingers brushed Jake’s and tingled at the contact. She sucked the harsh smoke into her lungs. Her throat burned and her eyes watered as she let it back out in racking coughs. “Ow!”
“Now you’re inhaling.”
Why? It seemed stupid to do something so uncomfortable.
“You’ll get used to it,” Jake said.
Steve reached for the joint. “Over here, Miss Kansas.”
Gretchen passed it on, glad to be rid of it.
Across from them, cuddled together in an oversized armchair, Rashid and Trinka shared a joint while Rashid told Trinka about growing up in Chicago.
“Where are you from originally?” Gretchen asked Jake.
“Brooklyn.” He leaned forward to pick up his beer bottle from the floor, and she smelled the scent of cigarette smoke wafting from his clothes.
“You don’t have much of an accent.”
“I lost it. Besides, maybe you’re the one with the accent.”
“Really? What do I sound like to you?” Gretchen asked.
“Midwestern.” Jake sipped his beer. “Tell me about Ohio. What’s it like living on a farm?”
“Everybody assumes I’m a country girl. I’m not. My family lives in town. My dad’s a banker and my mom’s a librarian. I worked at my uncle’s car dealership before I moved to New York. We don’t wear overalls and straw hats and spit tobacco, I swear.”
“What made you decide to leave?”
Steve nudged her arm and she accepted the joint from him, inhaling more easily this time. She sucked in the smoke, which, combined with the drinks she’d had earlier, was already starting to have an effect. Her head felt light and fizzy. She told Jake about the epiphany that had sent her to New York.
He shook his head in disbelief. “You made a decision, you moved and, just like that, you got cast in a major production? Wow!”
“I know. Lucky. That’s what everyone keeps saying.” She laughed. As a matter of fact, she couldn’t stop grinning.
“Not just luck. You’re really talented.” Jake’s eyes looked pale, grass-green instead of gray this close. He had a really nice smile.
Gretchen relaxed, resting her head against the back of the couch.
“Pretty good shit, huh?” Steve’s voice was hoarse.
She rolled her head to look at him. Her eyes took a second to catch up. “Yeah.”
“Want another beer?” Jake rose from the couch and headed toward the kitchen.
Gretchen suddenly realized Rashid and Trinka weren’t in the living room any longer. She hadn’t noticed them leave, but had a good idea where they’d gone. It looked like Trinka was going to bang the drummer like she’d wanted to. The play on words struck her as hilarious and she laughed out loud. Bang the drummer.
“What?” Steve asked, finishing off the butt. It was a wonder he didn’t burn his lips.
“Nothing.” Still giggling, Gretchen shook her head. “Just thought of something silly.”
“Cool. That’s what we’re here for, to relax.” Steve dropped his hand to her shoulder and massaged it.
Jake came back with two bottles and handed one to Gretchen. “Steve, why don’t you go on a beer run?”
“Why don’t you?”
Jake stared coolly at Steve. “Now would be good.”
“Fine.” Steve sighed and let go of Gretchen’s shoulder.
She was flattered that Jake wanted to be alone with her. The fuzzy, laid back feeling receded as her excitement and anticipation quickened.
Grumbling, Steve left the apartment.
Jake sat beside her and they silently sipped beer and listened to the music playing on the stereo.
He cleared his throat. “This is a pretty good local band. Rashid’s friend is the bass player. We went to see them last weekend.”
“They sound, uh, good.” Gretchen’s nervousness increased and she began to babble. “I love your solo on ‘We Are All’. How long have you played guitar? Who taught you? I always wanted to play guitar, but my mom made me choose a band instrument so I could be in marching band at school. I played French horn, which is useless. If you’re not in a band or orchestra, you’d never play it; not like a piano or guitar you can enjoy on its own.”
“You voice is your instrument.” Jake’s intense eyes held her prisoner. She couldn’t look away if she wanted to—and she didn’t.
“It’s not the same. I’d still like to learn guitar someday.”
“I’ll teach you if you want.” He took her hand and held it palm up, ran his thumb over her palm and up the length of her index finger, pausing at the tip. He pressed into the pad. “You have long fingers, but soft. You’ll develop calluses if you play.”
Gretchen caught her breath and held it as he stroked each finger in turn and pressed into the fingertips. The intimate gesture aroused her as if he were stroking her body. She exhaled a little whimpering sound. Her cheeks burned.
“I’ve wanted to talk to you for a long time.” Once more Jake’s voice was so quiet she had to lean toward him to hear.
“I wanted to tell you that when you sing ‘My Lover’s Hands’ it’s—” he paused as though looking for the right word—“transcendent.” He looked at her with his somber eyes.
Gretchen felt like the air had been sucked from the room.
“It sounds pretentious, but ‘fucking amazing’ doesn’t cut it. Your voice really is special.”
“Thanks.” She couldn’t tell if the warm glow spreading through her was generated by his words, their joined hands, or her sex, clenching and releasing in slow pulses.
He shrugged. “I just wanted to tell you that.”
For a second Gretchen thought he was going to kiss her. Instead he released her hand and sat back. Sharp disappointment pricked her.
&
nbsp; Jake rolled another joint, efficiently filling the paper, licking and sealing it. The flash of his pink tongue mesmerized her. He lit the spliff and took a hit before offering it to her.
She drew in smoke, ignoring the burn in her throat this time, then passed it back to him.
“Feeling relaxed yet?” he asked.
Gretchen leaned back against the couch and gazed at the ceiling, watching a spider in its web in a corner. “Yeah, I think I am.”
“Good.” Jake took another drag and relaxed beside her. “So, is there anyone you left behind in Ohio?”
“No.” Gretchen’s eyes drifted half closed and she stared at the light through the fringe of her eyelashes. “I had a boyfriend during high school, but we broke up when he left for college. I stayed home and went to community college, dated a little, but no one special. After I graduated, I worked for my uncle and now I’m here.”
Jake turned his head toward her. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Shit. You’re so young.”
“Not that young.” Gretchen was tired of everyone commenting on her age. “Why? How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“Ancient,” she scoffed.
“And you’ve already graduated from college?”
“It was a two-year Associate’s degree. Not a big deal.”
“Then you just decided to be an actress one day and did it,” Jake reiterated.
“‘You can’t succeed if you don’t try’, my mom always says, and my dad told us kids to ‘follow your dreams’.” She laughed. “Of course it didn’t stop them from being really upset when I told them I was going to New York, but they got over it.”
“They sound nice, a real wholesome family.”
Gretchen glanced at him. His tone made her wonder if his home life had been less pleasant. “What about you? Tell me about yourself.”
Jake took another toke. “Not that interesting. I’ve been knocking around with one band or another since high school, working odd jobs when I had to. Guess this is my big break. At least it’s regular work.” Gretchen noticed he didn’t say anything about his family. He offered her the joint again.
“No thanks. I’ve had enough.” She closed her eyes, enjoying the buoyant sensation in her head. “This is really nice.”
Jake’s chuckle was toasty warm. She felt like she could wrap herself in the sound.
She listened to the music, head bobbing slightly with the beat. Jake’s arm was pressed against hers, warm and solid. The back of his hand brushed hers, then he turned his hand and curled his long fingers around hers.
Gretchen smiled and grasped his warm hand. Time slipped past as they sat listening to music and simply holding hands. Her eyes opened when she felt him shifting toward her. He was facing her and only a foot away.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispered.
In reply, she leaned toward him.
Jake released her hand and moved his arm behind her shoulders. He cupped the side of her face with his other hand. She felt a warm puff of air against her face and smelled the sharp marijuana smell before his lips settled over hers. His kiss was soft, sweet and light. He didn’t so much as flick his tongue across her lips and pulled away after several seconds.
Her eyes flickered open to look into his, so close she could see the dark ring and striations of each gray-green iris. He blinked, and his long lashes swept his cheeks.
Gretchen touched the tip of her tongue to her vibrating lips. Her pulse beat swiftly. She clutched the material of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his body and the rise and fall of his rib cage.
Jake’s eyes focused on her mouth. His hand slipped into her hair and around the back of her neck, supporting her as he teased her lips apart and kissed her deeper. His tongue stroked hers and his hand moved down her back, pulling her closer.
She was aware of every inch of his hard body pressed against her. His heat sheared through the fabric of her clothes, enveloping her in warmth and making her skin prickle with energy. Her nipples tingled where they brushed against her shirt, and she moaned into his mouth. This was happening. She was kissing a stranger, and the way her body was reacting to his touch, she could imagine falling into bed with him before the night was over.
Gretchen barely registered the sound of a door closing in the apartment, then Trinka’s laughter only a few feet away.
Jake released her, pulling away from her mouth and removing his strong, warm hands from her body.
She nearly whined in disappointment. Blinking, she focused on Trinka and Rashid grinning down at them. Rashid’s arm was slung around Trinka’s shoulders. Her dark hair was tousled and her blackberry lipstick smudged. “Wanna use the room?”
Jake glanced at Gretchen with questioning eyes.
She knew what would happen if they went to Rashid’s bedroom. It wouldn’t stop with a little making out. Not tonight when her blood was racing through her veins and her body ached to slide naked against Jake’s. But she didn’t believe in taking sex lightly so, reining in her lust for a moment, she shook her head.
Jake looked up at the others. “No thanks.”
“Where’d Steve go?” Rashid asked.
“A beer run.” Jake took his arm from around Gretchen, leaving her back cold, but then he slid his hand down her arm and held her hand again.
She smiled at their joined hands.
“Wow, is Gretchen baked or what?” Trinka said. “Look at those eyes!”
“A little,” Jake replied.
Gretchen’s eyes drifted closed as the others kept talking. She felt tranquil, sleepy and erotically charged, floating in an unfocused daydream.
Jake nudged her and whispered, “Hey. It’s time to go home.”
She jerked awake and sat up. She’d fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder. “Mm. What time is it?”
“About two.” Jake pulled her to her feet and slipped an arm around her waist.
Trinka slapped her shoulder. “Lightweight. You didn’t drink that much.”
She zoned out again during the ride back to the hotel and Jake had to rouse her again. He walked her to her room and they paused outside her door.
“I had a nice time tonight. I’m glad you came out with us,” he said.
“Oh yeah, I was great fun, falling asleep on you.”
He just smiled. “Maybe we could go out sometime. On a date.”
“I’d like that.” Gretchen returned his smile, surprised at how comfortable she felt with him. They’d barely talked, but she didn’t feel like he was a stranger—and she definitely wanted to see him again.
“Good.” He cupped her face, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb, then leaned in, and kissed her. When he stepped back, his eyelids were still lowered. The contrast of the long, thick brush of his lashes against his angular cheeks was alluring.
For a moment, she considered asking him into her room, then Jake opened his eyes and looked at her. “If you ever need anything to help with nerves, I can get it for you.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
His offer was sweet and well meant, although she didn’t intend to take him up on it. Impulsively, she slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss, much longer and deeper than the goodnight peck he’d given her.
Finally, she pulled away and stepped back. “Okay. Goodnight.”
Jake looked slightly dazed. “’Night.”
Gretchen turned and walked into the room she shared with Trinka. It was strange that she was only down the hallway from Jake but had never interacted with him before tonight. How wonderful that a person never knew where the day might take her. Life was an adventure, full of exciting possibilities. Smiling, she touched her fingers to her lips.
Scene Three: Opening Night
“I hate you. How can you be so calm?” Elena paced the Green Room from end to end, turned and retraced her steps. “The fact that you’re not nervous makes me more nervous.” She glared at Michael. “Please, no ad libs tonight.
I can’t take it.”
“Who says I’m not nervous?” Michael turned up a three of spades and laid it on a four of diamonds, then leaned back and looked around the room. Everyone was preparing for the performance in his or her own way. Elena’s evidently included bitching at him.
Logan was like a squirrel on speed, bopping around the room, talking to one person or another. Right now he was busy teasing Cara, Elena and Trinka’s understudy. He hadn’t stopped chattering or moving for the past hour.
In contrast, Denny sat in a corner muttering to himself, either practicing lines or “becoming” Richard. Gretchen was at the make-up mirror staring at her reflection and humming quietly. Her eyes looked a little glazed, making Michael wonder if she was on something. The girl had been spending a lot of time with Jake Bosch over the past couple of weeks.
Some of the chorus members chatted together or sang bits of music. Others were drawn into themselves like Denny and Gretchen.
“Damn it!” Trinka stormed into the room. “I lost my lucky penny. Has anyone seen a penny?”
“Are you serious?” Logan asked.
“Yes. Shut up. It’s not weird. Athletes do it all the time—wear the same underwear while they’re on a winning streak or whatever.”
Logan tousled her hair as he passed. “You’re wearing underwear, Trinka? That’s gotta be a first.”
“I need my penny!” Trinka searched the counter beneath the make-up mirrors.
“Penny?” Michael asked Elena on her next pass.
Elena stopped walking. “She found it in the parking lot the first day of auditions and has carried it ever since, because she thinks it helped her get cast.”
Michael laughed.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s a Dumbo’s feather. It works for her,” Elena said. “Not everyone is as cool as you. Some people need a little confidence boost.” She resumed pacing.
“Hah,” Trinka shouted, waving a tarnished coin. “It was in my pocket.”
“Whew! Crisis averted,” Logan said.
“Places in ten minutes,” the stage manager’s voice announced over the sound system.
Michael’s stomach lurched. He put down his cards and rose.
