34
“It's a pass on the movie," my agent, Sean says two days later.
I sigh and press my lower back to the living room floor in an effort to stretch the tight muscles. "Any word on the TV pilot?"
"No, but you've got a call back for the Broadway project tomorrow at eleven, and I set two auditions for you next week. One is an HBO pilot, the other is another new musical in development. Both would be great for you."
"When are they?"
"Next week Tuesday and Wednesday. I'll send over the details and audition materials this afternoon."
Any chance you can switch Tuesday audition to Thursday? This schedule has been kicking my ass."
"I'll see what I can do."
"Sean, tell me I'm doing the right thing by leaving the show."
"Don't doubt yourself. A full year in that show is accomplishing the impossible. I guarantee that future replacements will be in three-month increments. It's time you move to the next stage of your career and broaden your experience."
"Says the guy paid to be optimistic." Flat on my back, I notice a cobweb floating from the ceiling.
"True that." He laughs. "Catch you later."
The bathroom door opens as I click off. Chelsea comes out wrapped in nothing more than a cloud of steam and a fluffy white towel.
"What are you doing?" She grins down at my prone position. It's great to see her smile after the horrible run-in with her father, but I worry she’s just burying the pain. She’s been overly cheery all day.
"It's called the Alexander." My knees are bent with my back and neck stretched out straight and flat. Water from her damp hair rolls down her arm.
She cocks an eyebrow. "All right. I assume this is another goofy theatre thing."
"More or less. It's a relaxation technique that's supposed to elongate and relax the back."
She sits on the coffee table and crosses her bare legs. "Is the pain worse?"
"Not when I'm distracted by you, half naked and two feet away."
She flashes her eyebrows and lifts a long slender leg. "Like the view, do you?"
"You know I do, you cheeky wench."
"How bad does it hurt?"
"It's nothing some stretching, muscle rub, and a bottle of painkillers can't mask." She rises and steps over my knees, one foot on each side of my hips, just out of reach for me to peek up her towel. My hands reach out and caress her ankles, warm and soft. She has a sexy twinkle in her eye that I love. “You seem in a good mood today.”
“I am. I have an interview at the Hamilton Literary Agency tomorrow?”
“You don’t say? Well, that is good news.” I never asked Paige to help Chelsea in her job search, but the timing couldn’t be better.
"So if I were to, say…" Chelsea nibbles her lip. "…make myself comfortable, I wouldn't be hurting your back?"
"If you plan to do what I think you are, pain is the last thing I'll feel." My traitorous body gives away my interest.
Her delicious mouth curves into a knowing smile. "Consider it sexual favors for putting up with my friends this weekend. It's not too late for us to get a couple of hotel rooms if you're not up for it."
My phone pings. I reach over and check the caller ID. Shit. Will that woman never take no for an answer? I set the phone down.
"What was that?"
"Nothing important."
"Then why were you frowning?"
"It's someone from my past."
Chelsea arches a brow. "That sounds ominous."
"It’s nothing to worry about. Now about your friends, I can't wait to meet them."
"Let's wait and see how you feel by the end of the weekend. I'll be stocking up on booze before they get here."
"So, you're a bunch of lushes?" I tease.
"We have our moments. How do you think they got me to audition for Celebrity Dance Off? I was bombed."
* * *
I hear hoots of feminine laughter and music from my flat as I open the door after the Friday night show. From the entryway I see a girl wearing nothing but a skimpy piece of lingerie.
"Um, hello," I call out.
The girl whips around in her filmy ensemble, revealing more of her shapely figure. One look at me and with a shriek she races into the extra bedroom. The other girls squeal with laughter.
I enter the room nervous of what I'll find next. My flat is a debris field of luggage, coats, ladies footwear, and wrapping paper. The coffee table is littered with wine glasses, half empty bottles and the remnants of two pizzas.
Chelsea rushes over, her eyes bright with happiness. "Oh my God, that was so funny. We made Anna model the lingerie we gave her." Chelsea kisses me quick and takes my arm. "Tom, these are my friends, Kayla, Jacque and Megan."
"Thanks for letting us stay here," Kayla a long-haired brunette says.
"No problem. I'm glad to have you." All eyes are glued to me as I remove my coat. This is more nerve wracking than auditioning before a Tony-winning director.
"Especially after walking into that!" Jacque says with a giggle. She's got dark shoulder-length hair and an infectious smile.
"Chelsea, he's hot! And his accent is adorable," Megan, a striking blonde blurts, boldly checking me out.
"Megan!" Kayla whacks her with a throw pillow.
"What? It's a compliment. And who doesn't love a British accent?"
I look to Chelsea and scratch my head, a little wary. She shrugs and the girls laugh. "Let's get you a drink?"
"I think I'll need a double. Let me get it." I take the opportunity to hide in the kitchen.
The former lingerie-modeling girl sneaks back into the room wearing leggings, a long sweater, and a face flushed with embarrassment.
"And this is Anna, the bride," Chelsea announces with a grin.
"Hi." Anna waves, sits on the couch, and clutches her drink.
"Congratulations on your wedding. Your fiancé is going to love that little number you were wearing." I raise my glass in salute.
Anna turns a brighter shade and hides her head in her hands as her friends roll with laughter.
With my gin and tonic firmly in hand, I find a spot on the floor among the disarray and stretch out my legs. Chelsea touches her stockinged feet to mine and smiles.
"So, Tom." Megan sips her wine. "As you know, Chelsea doesn't have any family, that is other than her bastard excuse of a father, who I plan to take down someday," she adds. "As her adoptive family, we'd like to know your intentions."
I glance at Chelsea, who is shaking her head in embarrassment.
"Yeah," says Kayla. "Chelsea's too nice for her own good. We're her muscle. So what's up?" All eyes are on me. I fight the urge to squirm.
Chelsea shrugs and leaves me to fend for myself.
"Out of respect to your position as her handlers, I assure you my intentions are most sincere." I wink at Chelsea. What would they think if I pulled the engagement ring I’ve been carrying around in my pocket and proposed right now? But I aim to propose in extraordinary fashion when the time is right. After the tough time with her dad, I want it to be spectacular.
"You do have the cutest accent," Jacque says, and now they're all waiting for me to speak again to hear more of it. This is one of those moments when being British gives me the ace in the hole.