Page 16 of Broken Romeo
As Holden stands, the metal legs of his chair scrape the floor. At some point in our conversation, the loud noise of the café faded into a low hum of background noise.
“Hey, Holden.” I stop him mid-stride and cross the short distance between us. “Do you plan on always offering your actresses their parts face to face at their day job?”
His eyes drill into mine. “No.”
“Then you never really answered the one question I asked multiple times: Why are you here?”
His neck goes taut. Even though he towers over me, we’re barely a breath apart. His mouth is so close to mine, I can smell the mint from his Chapstick. Holden James: Famous Broadway actor and soon to be director… but he still uses the same ninety-nine cent mint lip balm they sell at Walgreens. Such a tiny fact, but it chips away at my hatred of him.
“Because you’re not just any actress, Kate.” Reaching out, he brushes an escaped strand of hair off my forehead. “Because I’ve spent five years trying to find a way to apologize to you unsuccessfully. I’ve tried to find you, have a moment face to face to make it up to you, and this was my one chance.”
He’s been wanting to apologize? For five years?
Something in that admission of his doesn’t sit right. He’s claiming that not once in five years had there been a chance to find me and say he was sorry… until now?
My stomach hollows out, and I think I’m going to be sick. He pities me.
That’s the only explanation for why now. This part—this chance at a Broadway show—is his olive branch. A way to make up for stealing my real lucky break five years ago, ripping it out from under me.
Heat sizzles in my stomach. My nails bite into my palms, leaving little half-moon crevices as I clench my hands into fists at my sides, picturing that girl I used to be. That joyful, free-spirited, trusting girl who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind and believed in the best in people.
Something in me snaps. I miss her. I thought she was gone, but she’s not. For the first time in years, I feel her. Like a single burning ember that sizzles and smokes, desperately wanting to catch fire—she just needs a little oxygen. Oxygen I’ve been depriving her of for years.
Holden’s gaze darkens.
“There she is,” he whispers, proving that he sees me. That he could always see me. Those three words pluck at my insides, sending the vibration thrumming through my body. Even though no part of him is touching me, he doesn’t need to in order to affect me—and he knows it.
He steps away and reaches for the door. “It’s good to see you again… Katherine.”
When he says my name like that—the way he used to when we were together, when we're not anymore—I'm not sure I'll be able to get through this.
CHAPTER SIX
It’s raining, but I’m not wet.
There’s thunder, but no lightning.
And the stench of bullshit surrounds me, even though there’s no cattle in sight.
“Imagine your muscles melting into the floor, dissolving with each raindrop that falls onto your body.” Holden’s voice echoes through the rehearsal space over the sounds from the rainstorm app he has playing through the speakers.
The dirty stage floor is hard and cool against my back and I can feel the grit pressing into my bare arms. Do they never sweep this stage?
A bird caws in the rainstorm app and it’s so damn loud that I flinch. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from groaning out loud.
I always thought the Alexander technique was stupid. I hated it in undergrad, and apparently, my feelings haven’t changed much since then.
Though my eyes are closed, I can feel Holden hovering above me where I lay on the stage. “Come on, Kate. Focus.”
How the hell am I supposed to focus while alone in a dark theater with my ex-boyfriend? I try to stifle my sigh as I blink open my eyes and push up onto my elbows, ready to snap at him.
A breath catches in my throat and tingles spray inside my stomach as I realize he’s not standing over me as I’d thought. He’s crouched, bringing his face and, well, other parts of his anatomy much closer to me than I had anticipated.
I manage to find my voice and say, “I am focusing.”
Why am I fighting with him? My entire fate relies on the next two weeks, and whether or not I can take direction from this guy.
His already pale lips all but blanch as his mouth presses deeper into a frown. It’s unnerving how rapidly he can set me on edge. “If this is you focusing, I think we’re going to have a real problem.”