CHAPTER TWENTY
For once in my life, I followed directions given by an adult. I stayed off my ankle for the next week and stayed away from the theater. Miranda managed fine without me. When I was ready to get back into the game the last few days of July, I knocked on Miranda’s door.
“Come in,” Miranda shouted over the music blaring in her room. Unlike me, my sister loved everything. Music was background noise for her, but for me it was the soundtrack to my life.
I opened the door. Miranda glanced up from the fashion magazine and glared at me. I yanked my eyes away from her and took in how much her room had changed. The walls were still the same pink from her princess era five years ago, but instead of tiaras and staffs, she had cowboy hats and posters of half-naked men tacked to her wall. Sometime in the not-so-distant past, my little sister had gone country.
“What?” she snapped, drawing my gaze off a shirtless cowboy with lickable abs and back to her. She didn’t even give me a chance to answer. Throwing her legs over the side of her bed, she stood up and jammed her finger in my direction. “You suck, you know that.”
Did everyone in my life have to verbally smack me these days?
“Just because you and Gracin had a fight doesn’t mean you just tell him it’s over!” She stalked toward me, her finger finding my solar plexus and tapping out a beat to her words. “God, Mom and Dad fight all the time and they’re still happy. Why’d you do that to him? He’s miserable, and judging by your clothes, so are you.”
I glanced down at my running shorts and stained tee. So, I wasn’t dressed to go clubbing, big deal. “Then why hasn’t he called me?” I whispered.
“You’re the one who dumped him.” Miranda tilted her head. “Right?”
I collapsed on her bed and curled into a ball. “You weren’t there. He acted like I was the worst person in the world. What was I supposed to do? Forgive him?”
Miranda sat beside me. “Yep. He’s a guy. By design they’re egomaniacs and you slapped him in the ego pretty hard from what I heard.”
“He talked about me? To you?” I sat up, pulling my legs against my chest and resting my chin on my knees.
Miranda mirrored my pose. “Yeah, he’s pretty miserable, Carly. He needed to talk to someone, and you’re his best friend. When you left, he kinda lost everything in a way.”
“I didn’t want to leave, but …” I started sobbing. God, I was so over crying this summer. I’d spent more time shedding tears over Gracin Ford than I had over anything else in my life. “But I didn’t feel like I had a choice, Meerkat. The way he looked at me, it tore me up.”
Miranda wrapped her arms around me.
“And it was easier to say goodbye to him if he hated me than …” I sobbed uncontrollably for several minutes. My little sister comforted me. This was wrong. The older sister was supposed to be the comforter, not the comfortee.
“This whole deadline thing’s stupid.” Miranda rubbed her hand up and down my arm. “You guys are so head over heels in love with each other, and you’ve put a time limit on your relationship. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard of. Even dumber is that you guys both intend on honoring it.”
I wanted to laugh, because I agreed with her. We sat in her room, letting the music fill the silence, until an hour before Miranda was supposed to leave for work.
“I’m going with you,” I said, getting to my feet and hurrying out of her door. “Don’t leave without me.”
“Only if you promise to talk to him,” she shouted as I ran down the hallway to get ready.
Regardless of what had happened, I still had a job to do and money to make for school. Talk to Gracin? Yeah, when he got his head out of his ass and admitted I was only trying to help, then we’d talk. Maybe even salvage the rest of the summer. It didn’t matter if Miranda thought our deadline was stupid, because it was still there. It wasn’t going to change.
∞ ∞ ∞
Mom dropped us off at the theater. Miranda insisted I ride with her so I wouldn’t make a grand escape on my scooter. It was a fair assessment. If things got to be too much, I’d leave in half a heartbeat. Without the scooter, I’d have to find a way home or call a cab. Either way, Miranda theorized, I’d have time to doubt my decision to run with my tail between my legs. Why she thought I was the dog in this situation defied logic, but whatever.
A few of the guys smiled as I strolled backstage. I smiled at them as my nerves somersaulted in my stomach. Despite my apprehensions, it was nice to be back at the theater. I hadn’t realized how much I loved it here. Maybe Luke could manage the resort and I could take over the theater one day. I shook my head. Dad wouldn’t go for it, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t manage a different theater. Just the thought surprised me. I always hated this place, until I got to know it. Now I can’t imagine being anywhere else.
Miranda knocked on Gracin’s door and waited. I held my breath until Miranda elbowed me in the gut and it whooshed out.
Gracin pulled open the door with a smile for my sister that disappeared the minute he saw me. If I was totally honest with myself, which, face it, has been a problem my entire life, I’d hoped he would see me and pull me into his arms. Totally not what happened.
“What’re you doing here?” he asked. Venom rolled through my veins.
“It’s her job, Gracin,” Miranda chided as she pushed her way inside. “I’m just filling in, remember?”
I followed Miranda without a word and stopped when the disaster hit me full force. Gracin’s dressing room had been hit by a twister. That was the only excuse for the way it looked. His wardrobe was empty. The vanity where he kept his expensive and extensive hair care collection was so disorganized someone with OCD would’ve had a heart attack. I didn’t even know where to start.
“What?” Miranda said, grabbing my arm to steady me. I hadn’t realized I was swaying. “What’s wrong?”
I pointed to the vanity, then toward the pile of costumes on the floor by the wardrobe and covering the loveseat. Gracin’s dressing room wasn’t big to begin with, but with all his shit everywhere it was downright claustrophobic.
“Geez, Carly, relax. The world isn’t going to end just because a few things are out of place.” Miranda shoved my arm playfully.
Facing her, I found my voice, and it was loud. “A few things? FEMA would recommend disaster relief. What the hell, Meer?”
“Not my job.” She shrugged and moved toward the door. “And it’s not yours either. I’m going to Luke’s office and make a few phone calls.”
Not one for quiet reflection, Miranda slammed the door shut and rattled the two pictures on the wall. I took a deep breath, unsure where to start. The clothes were a priority, but so was the mess on the vanity. I headed toward the mess on the loveseat first when the odor hit me.
“Oh my God, when were these last dry-cleaned?” I asked myself.
“The last time you took them.”
I jumped. So focused on the disaster in front of me, I’d forgotten Gracin hadn’t left the room. My toes curled in my boots, and my fingers tightened into my palms. I couldn’t bring myself to face him.
“Miranda said it’s not her job, and she was right.” He sighed and I heard the slight creak in the dressing table chair. “You didn’t have to do any of those things either, but you did without asking. So … thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I whispered.
We didn’t say anything as we continued to not stare at one another, but the smell emanating from the toxic pile in front of me sent me into action. I pulled my cell out of my pocket and texted Miranda to get four or five bottles of fabric freshener to me as soon as possible, as in right now. It took me ten minutes, but I found the first costume change and hung it behind the door. Miranda walked in less than a minute later, raising her eyes at Gracin who hadn’t moved from his chair. I wanted to pull the top of the bottles off and pour the liquid over his clothes, but that wouldn’t do anything for tonight’s show.
“Miranda, you keep Gracin clothed onstage while I get this nightmare cleaned up during the show.” I hung up the hated denim vest, flinching from the added stench.
“Oh, you don’t need that. Gracin’s not wearing it anymore.” Miranda took it from me, not batting an eye at the visible green fumes. “It’s ugly. I told him to wear that pinstriped one over the white tee instead. It’s much sexier.”
Time slowed down as I turned toward him. My adorable little sister could suggest a change in the show, but not me. What. The. Fuck.
“Miranda, could you leave, please.” I bit each word, trying not to yell at her. She hadn’t done anything at all, but Gracin, oh that was an entirely different problem and it needed to be addressed immediately if I was going to seriously work around him again.
“Um … okay.” My overly confident sister sounded unsure of the idea, but she wasn’t going to fight it.
Gracin cocked his manscaped eyebrows and stared at me through those perfect, but not real, blue eyes.
“If I’m going to finish working this summer, and I need the money for school, we have to clear the air.” I crossed my arms and waited for him to respond. He just stared at me with no expression whatsoever. I wanted to smack some emotion into him. “We had this … amazing thing between us, and you threw it away because I wanted to suggest something for your show. Yet, Miranda tells you to ditch the horrible denim vest that belongs in 1992, and it’s all fine and dandy? Explain that to me, Gracin, because I’ve been kicking myself for a week wishing I could take it back and knowing I can’t. And knowing I don’t want to.”
Gracin stood and strode two steps, stopping before me. I wasn’t going to back down from this fight, and if he really knew me, then he knew that.
“So, what’s the difference?” I whispered. His presence raised my blood pressure to medication-required levels.
“I threw it away?” His teeth flashed as he ground them together. Damn if it wasn’t sexy as all hell. “You’re the one who walked out on me, Carly. You’re the one who said goodbye. Don’t blame me for your decision.”
“Seriously?” I closed the gap between us to get a better look at his eyes. “You were the one who …” The turmoil in his eyes threw me off.
“Who what?” The intense anger was gone, leaving his voice husky. He lifted his hands and moved them toward my shoulders, but he dropped them back to his sides before touching me. Oh God, how I wanted him to touch me right now. “What did I do?”
“You accused me of trying to change you,” I said after a long pause. “When all I wanted was to show the world the guy I see, the guy … the guy who writes beautiful music in his cabin. The guy who pours his heart into songs he doesn’t share. The guy who holds the door open for me or holds his raincoat over my head when it drizzles. That’s all I wanted to do. I just wanted them to see Jonathan Gracin Ford.” I swallowed the cotton ball growing in my mouth.
He stared at me, his lips twitching. “What if he saves all of that for you?”
I gasped as his hands slid up my arms. His skin against mine created an electric current igniting every nerve in my body.
“What if he’s afraid nobody else would like the guy you see?” He squeezed me tighter.
“How could they not?”
His lips brushed mine, tentative at first. Goosebumps trailed behind his fingers as they made their way to my hair. I put my hands on his hips, pulling him against me until we backed into the door. Gracin’s mouth should be nominated for sainthood, because I found heaven there.
Someone pushed against the door, but I reached down and turned the lock. The damned show could start at seven-thirty for all I cared. For the moment, I had Gracin back. And I wanted, no, needed to relish every second, because we’d already wasted too much time.