Center Stage
Page 32
John’s hand tightened around the phone. “So it could have been him here last night?”
“Yes.”
John squeezed his eyes tight. He wasn’t going to let Alexander Hamilton touch another person. He was with Arianna, but he didn’t want to live in fear either.
“John, I think we should move the party,” she offered.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Audrey and I want to have it here at the house. We’ve contacted all the guests and told them about the change in plans.
“I don’t see that being a problem.”
“I’ll call her and invite the two of you out for dinner. It’ll give her a reason to come out.”
John smiled. If this slipped past Arianna, he’d be surprised.
“Sounds like a plan.”
April had convinced Arianna to have lunch with her. John conceded as long as he knew where she was and she promised to call when she got to the restaurant and when she left.
She hadn’t had someone watch over her that closely since she’d lived with her parents. But it was okay. She didn’t want any run-ins with anyone else either.
Arianna sat back in her chair as the waitress set down a salad in front of her and then another in front of April.
April shook out her napkin and placed it in her lap. “So do you know who this crazy stalker of yours is? Is it Eric?”
Arianna picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of lettuce. “I don’t think it’s Eric. To be honest, I don’t think he has it in him. It takes some guts to put something like this together.”
“Guts to try and kill someone?”
Arianna swallowed hard. “Yeah.”
“I don’t know why you’re going through with this theater then? I mean, why put yourself in harm’s way? I’d find a new career.”
Arianna took a bite of her salad. There were many reasons some people were successful and some people failed.
Arianna had always had a dream. And like every dream, there are lots and lots of steps.
Lots of girls have dreams of being an actress. Some wish for it their whole life, and some go after it.
Her mother had driven her to countless voice lessons and dance classes. Her father had videotaped every performance she had since she’d been in preschool.
Arianna had worked her way from the concessions girl to seating patrons and handing out the playbills. She had auditioned for every school play and community event her entire life, and yes, sometimes her name had been on the cut list. And sometimes it was right next to the names Eliza Doolittle, Rizzo, and Ado Annie.
Blood, sweat and tears went into the career, and now it was changing again. She was in charge. She’d call the shots, and she’d make the lists. This was bigger than she’d ever imagined it could be. The Rockwell Theater would have community events, open mic nights, big time musicals, and yes, her own musicals, which she would write.
How could someone tell her to just give it all up?
No, she’d prevail. And if she had to, she’d use that gun in her purse and turn Alexander Hamilton “from a rooster to a hen in one shot,” just as one of her favorite characters, Doralee Rhodes, said about her boss. She’d do it.
Chapter Seventeen
Arianna fussed with her hair. Winter dried out her curls. She often wondered if her birth mother had hair like hers. Dark and unruly.
It wasn’t often that she thought about her birth mother. She didn’t remember her at all, but then again, she and Regan had been taken from their birth parents when they were very little. Arianna had only been two.
It was funny to her that she remembered Carlos’s family. He’d stopped mentioning them years ago, but she wondered if he still thought of them often. He’d been seven when they’d died. She was sure he still visited their graves when he needed it.
“What’s all the fussing in the mirror for? You’re usually low maintenance,” John said as he leaned against the door jamb.
Arianna yanked on a curl and tried to get it to stay, and then picked up her mascara. “Me? Look at you. Dockers? I didn’t even know you owned those. And your shirt isn’t flannel.”
“So?”
“So, I’d say you’re awfully dressed up for dinner at my sister’s house, too.”
He nodded, but she was going to keep prodding. “I was thinking maybe we should just call her and tell her we’re staying home.”
He shrugged his shoulder. “If you want to.”
“Really? You wouldn’t mind staying and watching TV with me?”
“New MythBusters is on. Complete entertainment where I’m concerned.”
Arianna looked in the mirror. She widened her eyes and added her mascara to her lashes. John had gone back into the bedroom, and she could hear drawers open and close on the dresser.
Arianna batted her eyes and then looked in the doorway again. There he stood with two flannel shirts.
“Which one do you want me to lounge in? The red or the blue?”
God, he was sexy. And he was all hers.
“I’m almost done, and we’ll go to dinner at my sister’s house.”
“Really? Jamie and Adam are blowing up something big tonight.”
Arianna pursed her lips. She’d thought she’d trapped him and he’d tell her that something was going on at Regan’s, but he wasn’t budging. Maybe she was making it all up. There was no secret party. No one was doing anything for her fortieth birthday.
Guilt squeezed in her belly. They’d done enough, hadn’t they? After all, she had her theater, and it was more amazing than she ever thought it could be. If she’d waited to do it on her own, she wouldn’t have the Rockwell Theater. She’d have some store front, with only folding chairs for acting lessons.
It had been selfish for her to think they’d do something more. Worse, it was horrible that she’d expected it.
When she turned around, John was wearing his red flannel shirt instead of his button down dress shirt.
“Though I love that shirt, and I think you’re extremely sexy in it, put on the other shirt you had. They’re waiting on us.”
John let out a grunt. “Fine, but you owe me a night on the couch with MythBusters.”
“Deal.”
“I want pizza and beer.”
“Anything.”
He pulled the shirt off, walked toward her, and wrapped it around her. “And I want you to wear the shirt. Nothing else.”
“Yes.”
John squeezed his eyes tight. He wasn’t going to let Alexander Hamilton touch another person. He was with Arianna, but he didn’t want to live in fear either.
“John, I think we should move the party,” she offered.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Audrey and I want to have it here at the house. We’ve contacted all the guests and told them about the change in plans.
“I don’t see that being a problem.”
“I’ll call her and invite the two of you out for dinner. It’ll give her a reason to come out.”
John smiled. If this slipped past Arianna, he’d be surprised.
“Sounds like a plan.”
April had convinced Arianna to have lunch with her. John conceded as long as he knew where she was and she promised to call when she got to the restaurant and when she left.
She hadn’t had someone watch over her that closely since she’d lived with her parents. But it was okay. She didn’t want any run-ins with anyone else either.
Arianna sat back in her chair as the waitress set down a salad in front of her and then another in front of April.
April shook out her napkin and placed it in her lap. “So do you know who this crazy stalker of yours is? Is it Eric?”
Arianna picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of lettuce. “I don’t think it’s Eric. To be honest, I don’t think he has it in him. It takes some guts to put something like this together.”
“Guts to try and kill someone?”
Arianna swallowed hard. “Yeah.”
“I don’t know why you’re going through with this theater then? I mean, why put yourself in harm’s way? I’d find a new career.”
Arianna took a bite of her salad. There were many reasons some people were successful and some people failed.
Arianna had always had a dream. And like every dream, there are lots and lots of steps.
Lots of girls have dreams of being an actress. Some wish for it their whole life, and some go after it.
Her mother had driven her to countless voice lessons and dance classes. Her father had videotaped every performance she had since she’d been in preschool.
Arianna had worked her way from the concessions girl to seating patrons and handing out the playbills. She had auditioned for every school play and community event her entire life, and yes, sometimes her name had been on the cut list. And sometimes it was right next to the names Eliza Doolittle, Rizzo, and Ado Annie.
Blood, sweat and tears went into the career, and now it was changing again. She was in charge. She’d call the shots, and she’d make the lists. This was bigger than she’d ever imagined it could be. The Rockwell Theater would have community events, open mic nights, big time musicals, and yes, her own musicals, which she would write.
How could someone tell her to just give it all up?
No, she’d prevail. And if she had to, she’d use that gun in her purse and turn Alexander Hamilton “from a rooster to a hen in one shot,” just as one of her favorite characters, Doralee Rhodes, said about her boss. She’d do it.
Chapter Seventeen
Arianna fussed with her hair. Winter dried out her curls. She often wondered if her birth mother had hair like hers. Dark and unruly.
It wasn’t often that she thought about her birth mother. She didn’t remember her at all, but then again, she and Regan had been taken from their birth parents when they were very little. Arianna had only been two.
It was funny to her that she remembered Carlos’s family. He’d stopped mentioning them years ago, but she wondered if he still thought of them often. He’d been seven when they’d died. She was sure he still visited their graves when he needed it.
“What’s all the fussing in the mirror for? You’re usually low maintenance,” John said as he leaned against the door jamb.
Arianna yanked on a curl and tried to get it to stay, and then picked up her mascara. “Me? Look at you. Dockers? I didn’t even know you owned those. And your shirt isn’t flannel.”
“So?”
“So, I’d say you’re awfully dressed up for dinner at my sister’s house, too.”
He nodded, but she was going to keep prodding. “I was thinking maybe we should just call her and tell her we’re staying home.”
He shrugged his shoulder. “If you want to.”
“Really? You wouldn’t mind staying and watching TV with me?”
“New MythBusters is on. Complete entertainment where I’m concerned.”
Arianna looked in the mirror. She widened her eyes and added her mascara to her lashes. John had gone back into the bedroom, and she could hear drawers open and close on the dresser.
Arianna batted her eyes and then looked in the doorway again. There he stood with two flannel shirts.
“Which one do you want me to lounge in? The red or the blue?”
God, he was sexy. And he was all hers.
“I’m almost done, and we’ll go to dinner at my sister’s house.”
“Really? Jamie and Adam are blowing up something big tonight.”
Arianna pursed her lips. She’d thought she’d trapped him and he’d tell her that something was going on at Regan’s, but he wasn’t budging. Maybe she was making it all up. There was no secret party. No one was doing anything for her fortieth birthday.
Guilt squeezed in her belly. They’d done enough, hadn’t they? After all, she had her theater, and it was more amazing than she ever thought it could be. If she’d waited to do it on her own, she wouldn’t have the Rockwell Theater. She’d have some store front, with only folding chairs for acting lessons.
It had been selfish for her to think they’d do something more. Worse, it was horrible that she’d expected it.
When she turned around, John was wearing his red flannel shirt instead of his button down dress shirt.
“Though I love that shirt, and I think you’re extremely sexy in it, put on the other shirt you had. They’re waiting on us.”
John let out a grunt. “Fine, but you owe me a night on the couch with MythBusters.”
“Deal.”
“I want pizza and beer.”
“Anything.”
He pulled the shirt off, walked toward her, and wrapped it around her. “And I want you to wear the shirt. Nothing else.”
