Page 51 of Broken Romeo
Gulping, I slide into the seat. The table falls silent, everyone staring at the three of us, waiting for what might happen next.
Even Nolan is uncharacteristically quiet, as he takes the seat on my other side. It’s like there’s a secret I’m not privy to… though based on the glares being exchanged between Missy and Holden and me, I’d say that quite a few of us have seen each other naked.
Nolan’s elbow brushes mine, while Holden’s hand still rests on the back of my chair, staking some weird kind of claim over me that he doesn’t have.
I take a heavenly sip of my Cosmo, grateful that it’s not the disgusting beer, but well-aware that the simple gesture from Holden has put even more of a target on my back when it comes to Missy.
The group settles into a new conversation, talking about theater and new union rules, but Missy’s eyes jump back and forth between me and Holden.
Alcohol courses through my veins, relaxing me. There has to be a way to defuse this situation; to show Missy that I’m not the threat she thinks I am.
I swallow a thick lump in my throat and glance to my left where Nolan sits beside me, leaning his elbows on the table.
Sensing my stare, he looks at me and shoots me a boyish grin and a wink. “See anything you like, New Girl?”
It’s probably the alcohol, but in the moment, that’s the most charming thing I’ve ever heard. I giggle, the sound weirdly feminine and… sexy?
Oh, God. It’s definitely the alcohol.
I steal a glance at Missy, whose head tilts curiously, watching my interaction with Nolan.
Yes, I think. See? I’m not into Holden. I’m not trying to steal your roles or your co-star.
Okay, well, I guess I am kind of trying to steal her role. But as Chelsea said earlier, that’s what acting is. If she can’t handle that, then she’s in the wrong business. But if I can at least convince her that I’m not after Holden, I’ll consider this a win.
Something tells me that I don’t want Missy Howl as an enemy in this business.
I cozy up to Nolan, shouldering my way against him, and he obliges, slinging his arm around me.
He’s warm. And smells nice. He has a light, almost flowery scent, which is weird for a guy. It’s not altogether unpleasant, but my pulse isn’t racing either.
This isn’t about heart-pumping passion, I tell myself. This is self-preservation. This is about moving on from Holden.
Nolan is sweet and talented… and apparently, he likes me.
As soon as I close my eyes, I realize what a bad idea that is. Because with my eyes closed, it’s not Nolan I’m picturing snuggling with… it’s Holden.
I snap them open and find Holden’s attention fixed on Nolan’s arm around me. More specifically, locked onto his thumb, drawing little circles at my shoulder.
“So… Kate.” Missy pops my name from her mouth pointedly. “Is this your first gig?”
My throat goes dry. The question feels like a trap for reasons I can’t quite define.
“It’s my first Broadway role. But I’ve done professional work.” I’m intentionally vague, desperately not wanting to cite my sad resume to a room of highly trained professionals.
Missy whistles. “Your first Broadway role and it’s a lead part. Wow. Most of us begin as understudies or ensemble.”
“I’ve had my fair share of those roles, too,” I say. Just not on Broadway.
“I’m sure you have.”
Her comment needles beneath my flesh before her cackle interrupts any comeback I might’ve had.
“It’s just so odd that you would jump from a Fringe Festival show to Broadway like that.” She snaps her fingers to emphasize the point.
Dammit. She’s not going to let this go. Not even with me snuggling up to Nolan.
“I got really lucky,” I answer.