I lock the door for our private conversation. What I have to tell her will rob her of that smile I’ve missed for weeks, the one she’s giving to him. “You looking forward to New York, Logan? Are you as excited as I am?” She straddles my chair backwards. On a shrug she doesn’t know is sexy, Samantha asks, “And a little scared?”

“What are you afraid of?” I take a couple steps closer. With her looking up at me like this it’s easy to imagine my pants down, her hands around my cock. Perfect height. Maybe if I’d said something earlier, made a move, kissed her without warning, Asher wouldn’t be taking the place I was meant for in her life. We could be in here celebrating, about to travel with a show, maybe go around the world after that, if we were lucky.

“What am I afraid of? New place. Never been. All that jazz.”

We both break into the famous chorus, “And all that jazz.”

She grins, but I frown. Our recent dynamic. I hate it. “I went once when I was a kid. My parents took me to see Lion King. There are a lot of people and even more buildings. Can’t see the sky most ways you look. But I was twelve.”

“You didn’t like it?”

“I loved it.”

She laughs, “I can’t wait.” Her beautiful brown eyes darken. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Something on your mind?”

“No.”

“It looks like you just had a—”

“There’s nothing on my mind, Logan.” She pauses, hugging the back of the chair, long eyelashes dropping. “Just wondering what’s up.” Throwing me a fake smile she asks, “Been a while since you wanted to talk to me.”

I always want to talk to you. That’s my torture.

I walk to Alfredo’s mirror and hold her look in the reflection as I begin, “How well do you know Asher?”

Slow and measured, she replies, “I’m getting to know him, why?”

“You love him?”

A blush rises and she looks away. “Why does it feel weird to talk with you about this?”

Because we’re supposed to be more than friends, in a perfect world. But the world is shit. “Because you know I think he’s—”

“Logan, just stop,” she sighs. “This is why I haven’t talked to you about him. You think I could with you acting like Hope?”

“At least you know where she stands.”

Samantha gapes at me. “You’ve never defended your sister’s cynicism before.”

“First for everything.”

“I’m not insulting your family, I was just stating a fact. Don’t get all defensive.”

I swoop down in front of where she sits, grab the back of her chair, and get down on one knee before her. “What if I told you that he might have dropped Marion on purpose so you’d get the part?”

Samantha blinks at me, a haunted look seeping in. “Logan, that’s not funny.”

“Am I laughing? Am I laughing, Sam?”

She leaps out of the chair and paces in a frantic circle. “I can’t believe you just said that. Do you know how evil he would have to be?”

I hold out my hands to show her I’ve only truth to offer. “I didn’t want to believe it either.”

“But you do now?!”

“I’m just being careful.” We stare at each other. “For you!”

She grabs her head. “Logan, that is crazy!” Running up to me, she demands, “What is wrong with you lately? Why do you hate him so much? Nobody would purposefully hurt someone like that just to forward the career of someone they like! He wouldn’t have done that for me. It’s just not possible. I can’t believe that about anyone!”

“Marion said she might have done it, had she been him.”

Sam blinks, first baffled, now disgusted. “I don’t want to hear this. That’s not a world I want to live in.”

“Me neither, Sam, but it’s the world we’re in.” Grabbing her hands so she’ll stop pacing, I tell her, “If we’re going to survive on Broadway, we have to get thicker skins. You can’t live in a bubble anymore. Some people are going to be vicious. You have to watch your back. A friend might stab you just because you become successful and they want what you have. Jealousy is rampant in the theater. You should have seen the look in Galloway’s eyes when she warned me that the higher you go, the more brutal it gets.”

Samantha yanks her hands away. “I don’t want that!”

“Then look at Asher with your eyes open, for your own safety.”

She slowly shakes her head. “He didn’t drop Marion on purpose. No way. I’ve looked into his soul on that stage, Logan. It’s not evil. I would be able to tell.” She passes me for the door.

I block it. “Sam, I love you.”

My heart stops.

I didn’t mean to say that.

I wish to God I could take it back.

From the look in her eyes…

She loves me, too.

As a friend.

“Logan!” she softens and wilts, touching my chest and retrieving her hand like she doesn’t want to lead me on. “Don’t say that. You don’t mean it.”

I laugh, “I don’t?”

“We’re like brother and sister, Logan. You’re just confused.”

Chewing my lip as anger grows, I sneer, “Go to him, then. Go to the guy who gave you your big break.” I emphasize the double entendre of the final word.

Sam shakes her head, tears gathering. “Don’t be like that. You’re hurting me.”

There’s a fist around my heart, twisting it as I turn my back on her. “Why are you still here?”

She meets my eyes in the reflection, fumbles with the old, silver doorknob and runs out.

I grab the vase of roses that Stuart Rogess sent me as congratulations. They crash against the wall, water and shards spinning through the air.

I grab a lamp from the antique dresser in the corner, and break that, too.

The table gets overturned.

The dresser, as I roar with fury.

A few singers fly into my doorway, “You alright, Logan?”

“Get out of here!”

Nobody hesitates.

Galloway walks in. “Does this mean you’re coming with us?”

I snarl at her, “Didn’t I say I was?”

She smiles, “You just did.”