by Amy Lignor
"Then I guess she doesn't care as much as I do."
"If I didn't like you, I'd deck you right now." Bobby threatened through closed lips.
"You just said—"
"Look!" Bobby pounded his fist on the table. "Beth is in love with you, ass. But she's not going to force you to do anything. And if your little Rebecca was kind and sweet and said she was in love with you and you were in love with her, well…"
"I'm not in love with Rebecca!"
"I know that, you know that and, considering the conniving look in her eye, Rebecca knows that. But I really don't think those are the people who need to know that, do you?"
Standing up, I felt the muscles in my chest constrict. This was so not how this 'special' day was supposed to go. "Do you know where she is?"
Thirty-Four
~ His ~
I never really thought much about the library. I mean, it's an amazing building and the lions guarding the steps are truly two of the most recognized figures in the world, but entering those large doors, seeing the amazing lights and tables, walking into the Rose Main Reading Room and staring up at that majestic mural—I could suddenly see why Beth felt absolutely at home here.
In this building she was surrounded by all the ones who'd gone before. Just like her own amazing mind, this building was filled with any and all information, data, stories, romances, fights, wars, drama, humor—everything that creative minds for generations have had the ability to write down on paper and share with the world. It was exactly the way I felt about my music, when I composed a work and stared down at a piece of paper hoping that the audience who heard my thoughts one day would fall in love with them like I had. That's how Beth must feel among her peers. Even though the tourists' 'oohs' and 'ahhs' could be heard throughout the grand space, there was a sense of privacy.
I walked around, just staring at everything, soaking in the peace and calm, and searching for that one figure I had to find.
A scattered few came up to me, spoke quietly about the show as they tried to respect their surroundings, and asked for an autograph. I obliged as best as I could. It was hard to 'do the job' when all I could think of was the fact that somewhere inside this architectural behemoth was the woman I needed to see so that the air could return to my lungs.
I glanced out at Bobby, seeing him standing on the steps enjoying a New York City breakfast of hot dog and pretzel. I knew he'd stay there and wait for her just in case she escaped me once again. I also knew there were a great many exits in this structure, but Bobby said a ritual of hers was to always pass by Fortitude on her way out—one of the main stars of the series of books she wrote.
I wandered the first floor staring into every room, niche, crevice, nook, and sighed. This was going to be far harder than tracking someone down at a grocery store. But as I entered the Map rooms, there she was.
At one of the long, polished tables, Beth sat with her head resting on her hands as she stared down at the huge atlas before her. I leaned against the entrance and simply watched her, admiring the beauty that came with her thirst for knowledge. My heart was so full when I was around her. The glasses resting on the bridge of her small nose just made her all the more sexy, the librarian men saw in their fantasies.
I heard the frustrated cough behind me and moved aside. "Sorry about that."
The man gave me a curt nod as he rolled past a huge book on top of a cart, straight to the woman I wanted to see. Unloading it with a newfound smile, I watched Beth interact with the man, making him laugh with whatever wit and charm was coming out of her that she never seemed to work at to make appear.
When the gentleman turned back to me, the smile evaporated. I was actually wondering if he knew that I had upset the woman he was somehow already in love with. I looked down at the ground as his glare passed me by. All I could think about was how on earth I could turn back time and forget Rebecca even existed.
~ Hers ~
The smell of old texts is a mixture of time, use, and leather; it speaks of a long line of readers and researchers who were looking for answers. When it came to the new and you were the first to crack open that spine, the whiff of fresh ink and crisp, clean pages…well, the scent was perfect. I felt it to my core. Like a hockey player who says they love the smell of the ice, that's what books did for me.
I stared down at the atlas trying to decode the route I needed my characters to take in order to get to the treasure they were seeking. Along the route I looked for the most magnificent and historical places that throughout time became legends, even though they were based in a reality that none of us would ever have the power to see firsthand.
I sighed, trying to get my head on straight. This was ridiculous! I was trying to glean something absolutely phenomenal and decode a brand new adventure, yet all I could see in my mind's eye was a pretty woman who made me absolutely sick. A model? Of course, she was a model. After all, that was so much the stereotype of dating in Hollywood that it was almost a joke. Hot actor dates hot model. Real shocker. I shook my head. This was so not me. And, frankly, it was a me I really didn't like.
"Hey." I heard the whisper and turned around, staring over the top of my glasses at the one man I was really trying to avoid.
I sighed. "Hey."
He pointed at the chair across from me. "May I?"
I tried to shoot him a smile that I just didn't feel. "That's the beauty about public places, dear. You can sit wherever you want." My eyes fell back to my atlas, angry at myself for showing even the slightest sign of sarcasm.
Matt leaned forward and laid his hand on mine. "I'm sorry about your company this morning."
I looked up. "You don't have to apologize. Your friends are here to see you perform. I think that's nice."
"I apologize for Rebecca."
I sat back and pulled my hand from his, putting some much needed space between us. "Gotta stop you there. No apologies for Rebecca are required. She's someone who's a part of your life and I am not some ogre who's mad about that."
"But you need to know…"
"Seriously." I stopped him, trying to keep my voice quiet. "There's nothing I have to know. I understand that you two are dating off and on, nothing serious. Okay?"
Matt nodded.
"It really is no big deal. You and I only met like…yesterday, Matt. And we both had lives before ever setting eyes on one another." I said that part strongly, absolutely believing in the words coming out of my mouth.
"True. But I still want you to know that I had left her a message ten days ago on her phone asking her to call me. I was going to end the relationship."
I saw the honesty shining in his eyes. "I understand that, but," I continued, taking a deep breath. "She would like more."
He sat back and rubbed his face with his hand. "I don't want more."
"You're telling the wrong one here, pal," I chuckled.
"Beth." Matt sighed. Leaning forward he once again caught my hand with his. "I make decisions fairly fast. But with you, I actually see this incredible future and I've seen that future since about, oh, ten minutes after I sat down at that table with you and the 'she-beast.'"
I tried not to laugh out loud and spoil the serenity.
"I know you don't like the whole fast thing, even though it's happened in your own family tree quite a bit," he reminded me.
I looked back down at the atlas as he moved his face closer to mine. "With incredible results, by the way."
I remained quiet.
"Look," he said. "I'm glad you don't care about Rebecca."
I kept my words to myself.
"But I do need you to care about something else."
"That would be?"
His eyes grew serious. "I don't like it when you leave me in the morning. Waking up without you is just not right, and I don't want that. I want to have you in my arms when we open our eyes. I need that."
My heart raced, as my head still tried to piece together exactly what I felt about this new crowbar named Rebecca that'd bee
n thrown into the mix. "You're an actor, Matt. You're a singer, a dancer, a man who has things to do and places to be—there's no way that would be a promise we could keep."
He shook his head. "We'll figure it out. Remember what you said the best part about your job was? Have laptop will travel."
I studied his face as his eyes grew wide and his hand went up between us. "Not that I mean you have to just drop everything and go with me no matter where I go. I mean, you're independent, you have things to do, signings, events—"
"Stop. Stop." I took his hand back and squeezed it in mine. "First, we're not married; we're not a lifelong committed couple."
His mouth opened and I stopped him again. "Second, I think an independent man like you would want to be alone sometimes. It's normal."
"After the show tonight I want to take you somewhere."
I sat back, adjusting to the sudden switch in conversation. "Okay."
"I mean it." Matt stood up, came around the table and dropped down by my side. "I mean it."
"Okay. But, don't you want to hang out with Chance? He came all the way here just to see you."
"Please."
"Of course."
"Will you come back with me?" He stood above me and reached out his hand.
I looked down at the table and back up, offering him my best smile. "I really have to finish this. I'll be back before you head to the theatre, though. I promise."
The sigh was pronounced, but he bent down and placed the softest kiss I've ever had on my lips. His tongue moved against me, tracing my lips as if memorizing my taste.
"I like the scruff," I said, pointing out the shadows on his face.
He grinned. "I'm just being lazy."
The outline of the beard and mustache was back, a hint of what he'd look like as the jazzy mature heartbreaker. Standing in his black t-shirt, I could see the soft hair coming out on his chest, as well, remembering the feel of him underneath me the night before. The shaved, clean-cut Hollywood look was gone, replaced with an even more manly feel.
Standing up, I kissed back and sent him on his way. I needed at least a few final moments before it all turned to dust, the clock struck midnight and my carriage turned back into a pumpkin.
Thirty-Five
~ His ~
"Dude, it's time to go."
I fell forward, leaving my headstand behind as Bobby walked into the room. He offered me an odd stare, probably wondering why I was forcing myself upside down.
"Gets the blood pumping," I explained as I looked over at the clock on the table for the thousandth time, knowing it was time to head for the stage.
Bobby nodded. "She'll be there tonight."
"I know," I replied. "Christ, I feel like such a teenager right now."
Bobby cracked a smile "Yeah, I think all of us have been acting a little ridiculous these past couple of weeks."
Chris piped up from his place on the sofa. "Love'll do that to you. Now, come on, we've got to go," he added, already in his professional mode for the piece he was going to knock the crowd's socks off with.
I grabbed my jacket just as the door opened and Beth walked into the room. My breath caught in my throat, but this time I exhaled, taking that much-needed blast of lavender oxygen. "Hey, Beautiful," I whispered.
She smiled back, looking at her watch. "I just made it, I see."
I walked to her. "Just on my way out."
Her arms went around my waist. "I'd say break a leg like you show folk do, but it creeps me out."
"That's because you have no balance and would break a leg," Bobby commented.
"Shut up!" Beth sang out sweetly.
Chris joined in, "I have to agree. In sneakers I've seen the woman walk into walls, but in four-inch heels she's as fluid as Grace Kelly. Odd."
"Shut up to you, too," Beth sang out, never taking her eyes from mine.
I laughed.
"I see there are two boys in the room who are going to annoy me, so I'll see you from the audience."
"Can you come earlier? We can walk in together."
"No, no. It's all about you tonight—the work. I'll see you after." Beth leaned forward and kissed me in a way that made my entire body tingle. "We can walk into the press room where Nicole will…announce."
"Our first red carpet." I let out a laugh. All of a sudden I didn't want to share Beth Carrier with the world; I wanted Lily Stone to remain safely in place.
"You are wearing heels, right?" Chris called out from behind my shoulder. "I mean, if you trip and fall that'll just be embarrassing."
"Shut up!" I yelled this time, beating her to it.
There was nothing inside me pushing me out the door and away from her amazing face, so it was a very good thing Chris was there to do the job.
The voice was a bit frustrated, like a dad who wanted his kid to take his eyes off the Transformer that he'd asked Santa for, and just get going. "You'll see her in a few hours for god's sake." Chris leaned in and pecked Beth's cheek. "Off to work, luv!"
~***~
As the limo arrived to pick us up, Chris and I got in and he offered me a smile. "So…how are things?"
"Good." My mind was still racing. "I hope."
He grimaced. "Now I know you're not worried about this performance. You know you're going to nail it to the wall. Between you and me, this is the one that's going to bring you some serious headlines, my man."
I looked over at him, knowing in my heart that he was probably right. No, not ego talking. I just really believed Beth's words would reach into the hearts that were coming tonight and blow them away. Any actor will tell you that the ones who put it on paper are the ones that make them stars.
The limo pulled up and I looked out. It was incredible. Two hours before anything began, the sidewalks and street looked as if the Oscars had been moved from L.A. and set right down in the middle of West 45th Street. A red carpet had been installed and the photographers and journalists were already there; some familiar faces were there as well, with microphones in hand and ball gowns in place. There were so many people that the crowd was actually closing off the adjoining blocks.
People were milling about and I raced past the throng, getting into the building with as little effort as possible. I don't know why; I just felt that when I saw the crowd for the first time, I wanted Beth to be on my arm.
I lost Chris as he sauntered a few yards back and stopped to sign some autographs. He loved this part, and it gave him a chance to talk all about Bobby, which is exactly what he wanted to do.
Saying 'hello' to the familiar faces backstage, I went straight through the dressing room door adorned with my name.
The first thing I saw was the huge vase filled with the craziest and coolest looking flowers I'd ever seen. I walked to the card and opened it, feeling my heart grow inside my chest.
You're loved, Beth
"What are those?" Chris's voice raised an octave as he stared at the colors of fire.
"Birds of Paradise."
"No way!" Chris picked one of the tall stalks from the vase. "These are truly cool. Beth, I would assume?"
"How did you know?" I laughed.
"Because, except for picking you, she's a woman with absolute taste," he replied.
"Thanks a lot." I patted his shoulder. "Always nice to know I have a solid support group behind me."
"I have to run. Make-up waits for no man, not even a star like me."
"You're taking one of my flowers," I said, in as manly a voice as possible.
"Duh." Chris looked down at the card. "But considering the message, they were most likely meant for me anyway and they just put them in the wrong room."
As Chris headed for the door the leaping shadow was so fast that I had no time to stop his stumble as he fell into me, throwing me up against the wall.
The grunt was loud, as Chris looked down at his legs now captured by a small body who was laughing hysterically.
Chris grabbed his heart. "I'm telling you, young lady. You are a total di
va in the making."
Amber smiled up at both of us. We must've looked like quite a picture: Me smashed into the wall, with Chris smashed against me being pointed up at by a midget in a red dress laughing her head off.
Chris carefully walked around her, and knelt quickly to peck her on the cheek. "You look beautiful, my dear, as always. But now I must get ready for my close-up." He gave her a wide-eyed look. "They'll have to work hard to cover up all the bruises you've given me."
Amber looked at him strangely. "I don't think they have close-ups. It's a big stage, you know."
I laughed, lifting the strong girl up in my arms. "She's got you there."
Chris sighed. "Literal people are such a bore, even if they are terrorist munchkins."
When Chris disappeared around the corner, Amber turned to me. "Why is he talking funny?"
"That's his game voice, hon."
"Huh?"
"Never heard of that? When someone gets into character before they take the stage?"
She shook her head. "No. Star talks about a game face, but that's football."
I chuckled. "You another girl who likes sports? Wow, I didn't even know I'd find one."
"I like everything Star likes." She smiled at me. "That's why I like you."
I pouted. "No other reason?"
She shrugged. "Well, you sing good, and you don't fall when I hit you like the rest of them."
I laughed, patting her on the head. "Well, I'm a dancer; have to have strong legs for that. Remember, though, don't run at my legs onstage, okay? I have to be able to pick you up and just start singing."
Amber rolled her eyes as if she was dealing with a Broadway novice. "I know that. I'm a professional. Just like Star says, I got my part down!"
