Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Leaning over the table, I touch her arm. “What’s the matter. Have you been crying?”
She shakes her head and bites her lip.
“Jasper Everson,” I chastise. “I know you. You can’t lie to your best friend.”
She drops the menu and looks at me with haunted eyes. “I’m out of the musical.”
Startled, I withdraw my hand and sit back. “What do you mean you’re out? The auditions haven’t even started.”
“I quit.” Her bottom lip quivers. “I’m not going to audition.”
“What? Oh, Jazz. Why? I thought this was your dream.”
She wrings her hands on the tabletop. “It was.”
“What happened?”
Glowering, she says, “Reino.”
“Reino?” I frown. “What does the musical have to do with Reino?”
“Everything.” She clenches her fingers, making fists. “He set it all up.”
“He did what?”
“He threatened the director into giving me the role of Roxie Hart.” Tears glimmer in her eyes. “That’s why the director invited me for the audition.” Her voice breaks. “It was never because he saw me auditioning for Arabian Nights and thought I was good.”
The statement sounds outrageous. I have a hard time believing it. “Why would Reino do that?”
“I don’t know.” She purses her lips. “I guess to get rid of me.”
“But it doesn’t make sense.” Why would he want to get rid of her? “Are you sure about this?”
Sniffing, she wipes away a tear that has slipped free. “Some of the regulars in the theatre company had drinks with the sponsors one evening after a rehearsal. As we were there for a pre-audition run, they invited us to join them. The alcohol was flowing, and well…” She waves a hand. “The director got a little drunk. He didn’t mean to tell me, but it all came out.”
“Are you sure he’s not lying?”
“He has no reason to. If he really invited me, he wouldn’t have made up such a story. Plus, he mentioned Reino by name. How else would he know him? I’ve never mentioned the guy to anyone.”
“Oh, honey.” I cup her hands. “This is terrible. I’m so sorry.” I continue in a harsh tone. “And so angry.”
She glares at the waiter who appears at our table as if everything that happened is his fault.
The young man clears his throat. “Are you ladies ready to order?”
“No,” we say simultaneously.
He taps a pencil on his notepad and says, “I’ll, um, give you another minute,” before hurrying away.
“Here.” I pour water from the carafe into her glass. “Drink something.” Heatedly, I add, “I’m going to have a word with him.”
“No,” she says quickly. “I don’t want to make things worse. I just want to forget about the whole humiliating situation.”
“You can’t let him get away with it. He owes you an explanation.” I pause. “Maybe he did it because he likes you, and in some twisted way, he thought he was doing good.”
Her eyes flare. “He definitely doesn’t like me.”
I raise a brow. “I saw the way he looked at you.”
She crosses her arms. “He just likes messing with me. I think he enjoys getting a rise out of me.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“Just…” She holds up a hand. “Don’t go there.”
“Oh, Jazz.” My heart hurts for her. I know how important this role was to her, and I can’t even begin to imagine how devastated she is. “Are you sure quitting was the right decision? You totally have the talent to make a phenomenal lead.”
“It wouldn’t have been right to stay on, not under the circumstances.” Anger flashes in her blue eyes. “Of course I couldn’t tell anyone why I pulled out. I used that lame old excuse, for personal reasons, and now every person in the company is speculating and imagining the worst.” She covers her face with her hands. “This is so bad for my reputation. Declining an invitation is like throwing an opportunity back in a director’s face. No one survives a stain like that on their performing careers.”
“You do.” I make my voice stern. “Jasper Everson never gives up. This is your dream!”
She utters a wry laugh. “I think it’s time to admit it’s not going to happen.” Shrugging, she stares through the window. “Maybe it’s time to move on to something else. I’m not getting younger.”
“Try to convince yourself with that clichéd speech, but it’s not working for me.”
The waiter returns. “Have you decided?” He gives us a hopeful look, but when neither of us replies, he asks in bright voice, “How about the house special?”
“That sounds good.” I smile at him, grateful for his effort. “And two glasses of wine.”
When he buzzes off to put in our order, Jazz cocks an eyebrow. “Wine? You never drink at lunchtime.”
“We need a drink. Besides, we’re not driving.”
“Good point.” She leans forward and rests her elbows on the table. “But I didn’t come here to chew off your ear about my problems. I want to know how you are doing.”