Chapter 3
Season Opener
Fall 2012
Lucas and Harper had both started at the theatre as freelance artists a few years back, as technical director and stage manager, respectively. They handled every aspect of what took place on the stage and behind the scenes, both working other jobs at other local theatres and only spending time together when they were on the same production, but it wasn’t enough to sustain more than a workplace tryst that included some fun sexual release.
They didn’t talk or see one another at all if they weren’t working on the same show, both of them having plenty to stay occupied with, in what should’ve been their down time. Things were easy between them. For a year and a half, that had been fine, then three months before, during their last hiatus, he took up permanent residence.
Harper had heard about his new position. It would’ve been impossible not to have. The theatre community was small and as gossipy as a teenage girl’s slumber party. She’d been away for nearly three months, and his newly acquired authority was initially off-putting. When the first company meeting for the theatre’s updated version of Antigone let out and rounds were completed, Harper made her way to the tiny office now occupied by her part-time lover.
“So, when did you become the big man on campus?”
“Like you don’t know.”
He kept his back to her temporarily as he finished whatever it was he was working on in front of him. In silent lust, Harper watched his back muscles contract and relax with his breath and the movement he made toward finishing his task. Harper could spend hours running her hands up and down that back.
“Soy curioso. I want details.
He spun his chair around, and she was instantly struck by his smile. It was as seductive as ever, and it was as if no time had passed at all. He just fit, and it was like he should have always been there.
“Curiosity killed the cat,” he responded to her inquiry.
“How’d you know what I said?”
“Some words are easier than others.”
Even though he’d studied German as his foreign language, Lucas had been living in Arizona and working with Harper long enough to string together enough Spanish to understand her comments.
“It hasn’t been long. I’ve only been permanent a couple of months now. They needed someone to step in after that scandal with Howie, and I was unsurprisingly available.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve only heard the water cooler version of that particular story. Maybe I’ll get some more details over a beer and sketchy leftovers one night. I couldn’t believe it when I heard about the closing. The Ink was around for years. I didn’t see them shutting down.”
“Money runs out quick when none is coming in. It wasn’t as shocking as you would think. Most folks saw the signs.”
“Sounds like another story and another beer.” Harper propped herself up in the doorway.
“At this rate, we could make a night of it.”
“We could still make a night of it, with or without the conversation. Besides, in the end, it’s all the same stories, different location. The struggle is hitting everyone. This is the last large cast show of the season here. Riley hasn’t said anything, but the only large cast musical on deck is a youth show.”
“Well, that’s because kids bring in money. By the time all of the fees to participate are deposited, the show has pretty much paid for itself.”
They both smiled, and he stood. Harper hoped they might spend a little naked time together before she headed home. She didn’t see anything wrong with picking up where they had left off, as long as where they left off still made them feel good and left her with immensely good memories. It had been three months, and every time they passed, her body reacted. She felt like a cat in heat. The thought of rubbing up against him had crossed her mind a few times. But he hadn’t made any advances. Maybe he had a girlfriend. It would suck, but it would explain a lot.
“Is everything shut down and locked up?” he asked.
“What do you think? Not my first rehearsal.”
“I don’t think. I check. If it’s done, then sign the logbook and meet me back here. I’ll walk you to your car.”
She was used to their sarcastic banter, and her comment didn’t seem that flippant to her until she heard the tone in his response.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll be right back.”
As she turned to go back to the board where all the notices and log sheets were kept, Harper couldn’t help but contemplate on the oddity of tone. The request wasn’t that unusual, but the tone had taken her aback. Maybe she needed to be with the newness of all of it for a minute.
That night lying in bed, thoughts of Lucas were sprinting through her mind. Even the fleeting thought of his authority ran a chill up and down her spine. Maybe he was a little different, but Harper wasn’t convinced that different meant bad.
Chapter 4
A Few Weeks into Rehearsal
Authority. In the abstract, it was very appealing and even sexy, depending on who wore it, but when it got directed toward you in sharpened focus, it wasn’t either of those things. Harper knew part of it was him just being himself and playing to his nature, but it was wreaking havoc on her nerves. He seemed to be everywhere, suddenly, and never happy with anything she was doing.
“Harper!”
“Fuck! What? Are you trying to kill me?”
“Get down from there! What are you looking for?”
“Riley needs these props for rehearsal. I couldn’t find you. Besides, it’s not my first time making this climb.”
“Well, it’s your last, especially when no one else is around. I don’t even see a ladder. What did you do, swing up there like a circus performer?”
“I wasn’t dragging a ladder out for this. All I had to do was climb up the side. I’ve watched you do it a dozen times, at least. Besides, it’s no more dangerous than what we did in the loft of the black box.”
“Well, you don’t do what I do. Show me which ones she needs, and I’ll bring them in.” His glare and growl meant he wasn’t happy, but it wasn’t like that was new these days.
Touching his arm affectionately, Harper thanked him, then, leaning in close enough for her breast to graze his arm, she added, “Don’t be mad.”
“Don’t be reckless.” Lucas was rapidly sliding into strangle-her-mode when he looked down and noticed her unacceptable footwear on top of her most recent transgression. “Flip-flops in the shop and climbing the rack? The last time you almost skidded down the hall was supposed to be the last time. You need to go back into your rehearsal.”
“I had on some very cute, closed in new shoes, but my feet were killing me. These were all I had in the car.”
Lucas turned his back on her so that she couldn’t see his version of a too-intense eye roll. He wanted to shake her. One person was not supposed to cause this much worry regarding mere life and limb. He had to get a grip on his feelings or he’d never be able to get the show up without smacking her hind end. Lucas vowed to himself to be totally hands off, but it was becoming physical torture. No sex and absolutely no spanking, no matter how much she unwittingly baited him. Up to that point, any time he’d done it, it was playful and during sex. He knew she didn’t take him seriously.
The rest of the night was uneasy for the both of them, albeit for different reasons. Of course, she had bent some cardinal rules, but in her opinion, he did seem to be overreacting. Missing cues, not keeping track of time, and in general being a bit more absent-minded was making a long rehearsal almost painful for Harper, not to mention the rest of the team. Seeing how distracted her stage manager was, Riley offered to email her notes instead of keeping her later to go over things.
“I’m out of here. You might as well go get it over. The compressor is going, so I know he’s still here,” Riley said as she started packing up her things and shoving them in her big tote bag.
Harper had a feeling she’d be putting the AD’s script back togethe
r for her the next evening. The woman was a visionary as a director, but as scatterbrained and disorganized as they came in most other areas. Having a stage manager served her well in the theatre and her life. They’d been working together for half a decade and knew one another extremely well. Riley was a mentor and a friend and had been working to convince her much younger assistant to come on board full time most of their working relationship. For the most part, though, Harper enjoyed her freelance lifestyle, with the flexible schedules and the knowledge that just as one group of people was becoming unbearable, she would be off to meet a whole new group.
As she was putting things back against the wall for whoever would use the space in the morning, Harper asked her mentor, “How did you know something was up with us?”
It was becoming quite apparent that Riley could focus in when necessary.
“You’re not that hard to read, Harper. Not to worry. I’m sure you’ll work it out.”
They parted ways. Riley headed home to her husband, and Harper headed to meet her doom.
Standing in the doorway, not daring to make entry with her exposed toes again, Harper took him in as he worked. His hands were enormous and enormously skilled. She could attest to their strength, considering all of the times he’d picked her up like it was nothing. Things it took two or three people to move around the space, she’d watched Lucas grab, move, and not break a sweat. In a family of mostly women and a father who had preferred to pay someone to do the heavy lifting, Harper was usually in awe of Lucas’ physical abilities. Then there was his artistry. There was so much creativity in what he did. Sheet after sheet of wood got transformed into the most beautiful things. He brought designers’ visions to fruition. Suddenly, Harper felt that perhaps she didn’t tell him how good he was enough. Considering her dog house status, perhaps flattery would be a good place to start.
“Lucas! Lucas!”
Flipping the switch off, he turned to her covered in sawdust and pulled off his safety goggles. He ran his hands across his head and shook the remnants of sawdust loose.
“Before you ask,” she said, “yes, everything is locked up, and I signed the book. How late are you staying tonight?”
“Just until I get these last two pieces cut out.”
The pieces were to serve as an ornate archway for the set of their show. Two pieces—he said it like that was a guarantee to quick completion, but Harper knew the attention to detail he put into each aspect of the sets he constructed. He would obsess over things absolutely no one would notice or see from the audience, but he would know it wasn’t perfect, so that would be all he saw.
“How about we go to get that beer tonight?”
“No, it’s not a good night.”
Harper deflated, thinking that not a good night was subtext for I’m still pissed.
“Ugh, fine, whatever! You seriously need to get over it.”
If she had rolled her eyes any harder, they would’ve done what her mother always threatened and gotten stuck up there.
“You mean get over your putting yourself in reckless danger. Nope. I have no plan to get over that.”
“All of a sudden you’re all high and mighty, and everything I do is wrong.”
“I never said that. Not once. It would just be nice if the most resistant person in the building wasn’t you. I’m trying to make things better around here. None of us can afford another theatre closing, Harper. Where the hell will any of us work?”
“I am not resistant. I’m just not a fan of being treated like an idiot. I do my job just as well as you do yours.”
“You don’t think I know that. You’re the best there is at your job. You’re just not the best at mine. It would be a nice change of pace if everything I said wasn’t met with an eye roll or sarcastic comment.”
“You never minded before. Snippy es lo que hago. Que utilizó para encontrar divertido. Maybe I don’t like you always telling me I’m doing something wrong. You never used to point out my flaws regularly. If you’re going to keep changing how things are done, then stop avoiding me and teach me your new ways. Stop criticizing and yelling at me.”
He put the goggles down and walked closer to the door, his going back to cutting taking a backseat to his ire.
“What good would it do to try teaching you? You don’t listen! And I don’t yell at you.”
It was his turn to be on the receiving end of the raised eyebrow. Harper held them high with her eyes round and wide open until he had the decency to look away, knowing he’d just done exactly that.
“I guess that’s all the admission of guilt I’m going to get, huh? Oh, and one more thing. You’re a bossy, controlling prick. I guess we both have our faults.”
If she were even a little observant, Harper would’ve recognized the darkening of his eyes and how deeply his hands were shoved in his pocket.
“Girl, you— Ugh. Forget it, Harper! You’re acting like a child.”
“Get over yourself, Lucas! You’re like six months older than I am, so you don’t get to tell me that.”
“I do when you’re behaving like a bratty teenager and calling me names, which better stop. You’re as bad as my little sister.”
Harper threw her hands up and took off down the hall to retrieve her things from the rehearsal room. He was on her before she was halfway there. Spinning her around, he had a firm grip on her wrist. It wasn’t hurting and wouldn’t cause a bruise, but it definitely made the balance of power between them clear. She knew if he didn’t release her willingly, she wasn’t going anywhere.
Glaring at his hand on her wrist and back up to his face, Harper let her question drip with disdain.
“What, Lucas?”
“You’re about to see exactly how bossy I really am. Stop pushing for a reaction, Harper.”
At that point, they were both practically panting and positively glaring at one another. Lucas wanted to both wring her neck and put her against the wall and kiss her so hard that it would leave both of their lips bruised. He wanted to explore her mouth so deeply that he’d taste whatever lingered from her rehearsal snacks. The dichotomy between lust and frustration was not lost on him. Harper had no idea what was running through his mind, but, unbeknownst to her, they were feeling the same stirrings. At that moment, because the last one had been so long ago, all she wanted was to feel his hands on a part of her body other than her wrist. Damn him for making her rage turn to desire so quickly.
“I don’t know what any of that means,” Harper said through gritted teeth while rolling her eyes so hard she had to blink to clear her vision.
“It means if you call me one more name or insist on continuing this little hissy fit, I’ll turn you over my knee and spank the defiance right out of you! That’s what.”
“Let me go, Lucas.” She was holding her ground on the outside, but inside she was a quivering mold of gelatin.
He didn’t refuse the request. Things had already escalated, and he wanted to put some balance back into their encounter. Mentally counting to ten in German, just to focus his mind, he instead made her an offer.
“Look, I’m not going to get much more finished tonight. Let me wash up, and I’ll walk out with you.”
Harper didn’t say a word. Turning from him, refusing to make eye contact, either, Harper listened for the bathroom door to close then snatched up her bags and fled like the place was on fire. She was no less than three miles away before she took a breath that wasn’t shallow. She couldn’t believe she’d run away from Lucas. Nothing about their little exchange made her think he would be responding to that choice well.
Chapter 5
A Few Hours Later
By the time she reached home, her cell phone had ten missed calls and three voicemails that ranged from worried to seriously pissed off. She didn’t respond to any of them. She knew it was a useless stance. She would have to face him in less than twenty-four hours. It wasn’t like Riley would cancel rehearsal or suddenly decide to hold it in her living room. Instead, after sheddi
ng her clothes at her front door and dumping them in the living room chair, she called her sister.
“Hey, Mira!”
“What’s wrong?”
“What? Nothing. Stop being mami!”
“Harper, you don’t call me at this hour unless you’re killing time on a long drive home or something is wrong. You in the car?”
“No.”
“Entonces, ¿qué pasó? Then what’s wrong?”
It wasn’t just her sister channeling her mother that prompted her inquiry. Mira had been on the receiving end of the Lucas rant for weeks now.
“It’s nothing,” Harper said. “Well, not really.”
“Look, if you keep avoiding, I’m going back to the marvel that is reality show dating.”
“How do you watch that nonsense?”
“Easy, and stop changing the subject. How was rehearsal?”
“Not my best night. That’s why I’m home so early. Even Riley knew I was out of sorts. Generally, she spends an hour changing the schedule and going over every bit of minutiae from the night. The woman can ruminate with the best of them. Tonight she told me just to go.”
“Did you see him?”
The fact that Mira went straight to Lucas was telling. Apparently, Harper had not been suffering or lusting in silence where he was concerned. She thought she was doing a better job of not using his name in every other sentence, but it was obviously a losing battle.
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