29
New York City
By some odd timing, Tom beats me back to New York. As I ride the escalator to baggage claim, I spot him waiting with an eager grin. I can’t help myself. I run to him, drop my carry-on bag at his feet, and jump into his arms. He buries his head in my neck and squeezes me tight.
“And I was afraid you wouldn’t miss me,” he says, setting me back on my feet.
“Only a little,” I tease. He smells delicious, exactly how I remember, and he hasn’t shaved in a couple days, so he has that extra relaxed, I don’t give a damn, air about him. But based on how we can’t look away from each other, I’d say he definitely does.
He kisses me quick and picks up my bag as we wander to the carousel for my suitcases. I don’t know how long I’m here for, but I’ve come prepared to stay at least until I go home for Anna’s wedding in early February.
Back at the apartment he showers me with gifts of Cadbury chocolate, which apparently is much better when from the UK, and jewelry from his mother. “She didn’t have to do that,” I say admiring her creations. I’ve only talked to her the once, but I can see she’s a lovely woman.
“Mum loves to spoil. She also sent along fudge and some of her biscuits.”
“And I brought you cheese.” I laugh. Since there is no food in the place, we snack on cookies, cheese and chocolate.
The next three days are sweet perfection as Tom doesn’t have to work. He hasn’t told anyone he came home early, so we’re in a cocoon of uninterrupted bliss. We go to dinner at normal times, like normal people. We try cooking together, which ends up with burned chicken when he distracts me into the bedroom. He’s happier and the most laid back I’ve ever seen him.
One afternoon I’m curled up on the couch pretending to read while Tom's playing guitar by the window. The light casts shadows on the contours of his face. I love watching him when he’s unaware. His hands masterfully handle the strings strumming sweet hollow tones. His mouth is soft and his eyes lowered in untroubled thought. I revel in the moment as the soothing sounds roll over me like waves of silk.
But reality returns when he goes back to work on December 30th. It’s a two-show day and he’s itchy all morning to get to the theatre after being off for a week.
“Excited?” I tease.
He grins. “Does it show? You know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
But he gets a call that takes the smile off his face. He takes it in the bedroom and I hear quiet murmurs and wonder who and what has brought him down. But he’s back in a minute and slides his phone onto the table.
“That was my agent. I didn’t get the part,” he says in a subdued voice, the disappointment shows in his slumped shoulders.
“Is that the final call back you had the day we went for tea?”
He nods. “It was for a big budget movie. It would have launched my career to the next level.”
“I’m sorry.” I’ve never seen him look so dejected, and part of me feels that maybe I jinxed his chances by talking about the audition when he didn’t want to.
“It’s fine. I’ll keep trying. They probably wanted someone older, or younger, or maybe with dark hair instead of light. There’ll be something out there for me. I just have to hit more auditions. A lot more.”
I give him a hug. He’s so talented. I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t be cast.
New Year’s Eve in Times Square is a mass of humanity, so most Broadway shows only have matinees or go dark for the night. We take the subway uptown to Paige's. Outside her door we hear a roar from the party inside. I grimace. All the people in that room know each other, except me.
“Are you nervous?” Tom asks, as if it never dawned on him I might be.
“Yeah.” I give him the look. “Everyone from your cast and crew is in there.”
He laughs and gives my shoulder a squeeze. “They’re harmless.”
They are all fantastically talented and gorgeous. I arch an eyebrow his direction.
“Okay. I guess not everyone is normal. Bill, one of the sound engineers, likes to tell dirty jokes, and Eileen, the props master has unusually bad breath, but supposedly it’s from a cauliflower diet she swears by. Then there’s Tanya. She’s just...Tanya.”
“This feels like Celebrity Dance Off all over again. I should have had a drink before we came.”
He rubs my back. “You’ll be fine. Everyone will love you.”
When no one answers the door, Tom lets us in, and, as soon as he’s noticed, the crowd lets out a cheer. Attending with the star of the show feels like a spotlight just focused on me too.
Paige finds her way to us and after quick hugs, gathers our coats. “Great dress,” she says admiring my little black number. “Welcome. The bar’s around the corner.”
We’re handed drinks and whisked around the apartment meeting too many people to keep track of. There’s plenty of spouses and girlfriends and boyfriends, which makes keeping people straight even more difficult.
Tom is pulled away and I’m cornered by a frizzy-haired woman from wardrobe and her pals, then handed a cosmo by a couple handsome young guys from the ensemble. Turns out that being Tom's girlfriend makes me popular. I’m asked about Celebrity Dance Off, how I like New York, and will I be auditioning for anything soon. I down my drink and respond with great, great, and never.
Finally, Tom appears and saves me from Ms. Cauliflower Breath. We escape to the bar. “You’re quite the hit.” He gives me one of his steamy smiles, caresses my bare shoulder, and whispers, “You’re gorgeous in that frock, but it’ll look even better pooled on the floor when I get you home.”
My breath hitches and he kisses my neck.
“Excuse me, you’re blocking the bar,” a testy voice says.
I jump away from Tom. He smiles boldly. We’re both a little juiced. “Sorry, Tanya. Do you remember Chelsea?”
She looks me over. “Sure. How are you?” she asks, but doesn’t even look at me.
“Fine. How are you?”
“Fantastic. Tom, can you order me a G&T? You know how I like it.”
He orders her drink and another cosmo for me.
Tanya scans the beautiful furnishings in the spacious apartment with a critical eye. “Paige and Greg have a great place. He must be making bank to afford a place like this. I wonder why Paige keeps working.”
“Here you go,” Tom hands Tanya a drink and ignores her comment.
She takes a sip and leans in close. “You know, it’s been too long since Paige called out and I got to play opposite you.”
Tom evades her. “Yes, well. Paige is a consummate professional. Oh, look. There’s Greg. Chelsea, you haven’t met Paige's husband yet. You’re going to love him. He works in publishing. Catch you later, Tanya.”
We grab our drinks and escape to the other side of the apartment. “Is she intense, or is it me?”
“She’s been under the illusion that she and I are going to be an item someday.”
I gulp my drink and do a double take. “Oh. I hope she’s wrong.”
“Me too. I can’t imagine waking up to that,” he snickers and escorts me to a tall thin man with curly short hair holding court with the stage manager I met earlier.
“Chelsea, I’d like you to meet Greg Hamilton, Paige's husband.”
Greg offers his hand. “Great to meet you. Paige has told me so much about you.”
I glance at Tom, who smiles, and then back to Greg, wondering how much Paige knows about me. “Thank you for having me tonight.”
“I thought you might like meeting someone who works in publishing." Tom says to me, then turns to Greg. "Chelsea is a big reader.”
“Actually, I own a literary agency, so I’m more in the pre-publishing stage of things.”
“That’s amazing. So you get to read the great books before anyone else?”
“When I’m lucky. Finding a best seller is a lot like trying to find a grain of salt in Central Park.”
Greg asks what I read, which I reply with everything. Tom is pulled away at some point, but Greg and I are deep in discussion and I barely notice. He asks what I do for work now that I’m off Celebrity Dance Off. I explain my degree in international business and that I’ve been applying for jobs and I’m not exactly sure what I want, which is an unsettling feeling. I’m relieved to have been rejected by the investment bankers.
“You speak any foreign languages?”
“French and German. Not that I’ve had much use for either.” They were part of a misguided effort to be more worldly like my dad. “It turns out I’m not interested in international finance after all.”
He laughs. “I can see why, but you have some valuable skills.” Paige appears and asks him for some help in the kitchen. “We may have something coming up. You should send me your resume.”
“Seriously? I would love that.”
He pulls a card from his wallet. “Drop me an email and we’ll set something up.”
“Thank you!”
Greg disappears with Paige, and I search for Tom, dumbstruck at the opportunity that just fell in my lap. He’s across the room with a group of guys, but he’s watching me. I smile and make my way over. “Greg asked me to send him my resume. Can you believe it? A job surrounded by books?”
He grins. “That’s brilliant.”
I’m flying high the rest of the night. Finding a job in publishing hadn’t occurred to me, and even if nothing comes of it, I don’t care. It’s the boost I need. Tom introduces me to more people from the cast including his costars Max and Jordan, who seem like nice guys.
As the night goes on, the party gets louder and more crowded. I’m pulled into a conversation with some women from the cast about New Year’s resolutions. While they all have the lose weight goal, Tanya wants cheek implants, Paige aims to stop biting her fingernails, and a short brunette declares she plans to get laid more often, sending us all into peals of laughter.
Tom approaches with a chocolate truffle. He holds it out temptingly, I take a bite, closing my eyes at the delectable taste.
“I thought you’d like that.” His smoldering eyes reach my soul and I lick a smudge of chocolate from my lips. He rejoins Max and Jordan a few feet away.
Tanya stares at me and shakes her head. “I don’t get it. You and Tom make no sense. Why is he even with you?”
Paige and the other women gasp. I should ignore Tanya, but I’m in a great mood and a little drunk. “I know, right?” I say as if agreeing with her. “And I’m not even good in bed.”
Tanya’s mouth drops open. She’s dumbstruck, wondering if I’m serious. Tom chokes on his drink, while everyone else around us busts out laughing.
“You okay, baby?” I croon to Tom.
Tanya stalks off. I turn back to the girls and shrug.
“Was it something I said?”
Tom wipes his mouth and shakes his head, but his eyes are smiling.
“I like her,” Max says.
Greg stands on a chair to get everyone’s attention for the countdown to midnight while champagne is handed out.
Tom whispers in my ear. “You evil girl.”
“I’m sorry. But she’s been glaring at me all night like I’m the worst person you could be with.”
“It was perfect.” He hands me a flute of bubbly. “This is going to be the best year ever.”