Page 40 of The Devil's Playground

I’ve fucking outdone myself.

Tonight marks one month since I’ve made it obvious to Nicolette that she’s it for me. And though it’s beginning to piss me off that I can’t shake the feeling she has one foot out the door, I’m determined. I will make this impossible woman fall in love with me or die trying.

She likes flowers, and I spent enough at the florist shop where Burns’s wife works to keep that place afloat the rest of the year. When her favored sweatpants got a hole in them after I was a little too eager to get them off of her, I bought her three pairs to replace them—then figured out how to use a needle and thread to sew it up myself because it was how well-worn they were that she liked.

Tonight, though? If she’s holding onto any doubts that I’m in this for good—that this isn’t just me playing around because that’s what “Rolls” Royce McIntyre does—it’s my plan to erase all of them with one impeccably planned night out.

At first, Nicolette has no idea where I’m taking her. She seems surprised—and, admittedly, a touch suspicious—when I tell her that we’re heading out of Springfield, though she relaxes once I add that we’re heading into Riverside.

Riverside is a local city to Springfield, about a forty-minute’s drive away. It’s not as populated, with about half as many residents, but it’s full of museums, restaurants, and theaters.

Once I learned that Nicolette’s big ‘thing’ was Broadway, I went into research mode. Luckily for me, there was a national tour of one of her favorites passing through our area. For about two weeks, the touring cast would be performing The Phantom of the Opera at the Riverside Performing Arts Center.

With one hell of a donation made by ‘anonymous’, I was able to get a pair of primo seats on the night of our anniversary.

Nicolette’s already bouncing in place when I’m valeting the car. As soon as I said Riverside, I think her mind started whirling. Of course, I couldn’t contain myself, giving her a few hints during the drive, and by the time we’re walking into the large theater, she knows exactly what I’ve brought her to witness.

“I’ve always wanted to see this live! I mean, I’ve watched the movie a hundred times, and then there’s the 25th anniversary concert, but an actual performance? This is amazing!”

I love her excitement. As a fixer, I get a jolt of pleasure whenever I pull off a seemingly impossible task. Some people get turned on by a flash of skin or a pair of tits. Me? I’ll appreciate a nice rack as much as the next hetero guy, but I’m all about getting a job done right.

When she throws herself into my arms, kissing me in the middle of the crowd outside waiting to have their tickets scanned, my cock twitches down below. I was already hard—that’s my usual state around this woman—but the sweet hug and honest affection she shows me? I want nothing more than to hoist her up, wrap her legs around my waist, and encourage her to show me how grateful she is.

Of course, I can’t do that. But I do drop my mouth to hers, kissing her deeply while claiming her publicly. It’s the first time she’s allowed me to do that, not caring that there are others around as she goes up on her tiptoes, threading her fingers through my hair.

Someone whistles nearby. Nicolette jerks, as though suddenly reminded that we’re not alone. Her tanned cheeks turn red as she flushes, but I could give a fuck. This is the first time I’m able to show her off without her wondering what people will think about her sleeping with her boss.

I know that still bothers her. She tells me it doesn’t, but I’m pretty good at figuring out when someone is lying to me.

I don’t call her out on it. Not yet. Instead, I work on proving to her that it doesn’t matter. She has her job, I do my best not to interfere too much, and we spend as much of our free time together as we can.

Like tonight.

Taking her fingers, I lead her past the growing line. A few theater-goers mutter about me cutting the line, but when I flash my ticket at the usher up front, he sees where I’m seated, knows that I must’ve paid a pretty penny for the location, and lets us go in.

Or maybe spending the last decade at Link’s side means that some of his ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ attitude has rubbed off on me. Despite my crooked smile, no one stops us as we step inside. In fact, another usher beelines right toward us, ready to escort us to our seats.

I wave him off since I already got a tour last week when I came by to pick out our box, then tuck Nicolette against my side as I start across the lobby.

After a small stop, I find the stairs that will take us to our seats. Only after we reach the heavy red curtain and I pull it aside before gesturing for her to go ahead of me do I explain. “I got us our own private box. Just me and you, baby.”

She takes in the small enclosure with only two seats. It overhangs the left side of the stage, high enough that the other patrons might see our faces in the light and that’s about all. Once it’s dark? They shouldn’t see even that.

Her soft brown eyes light up as she takes it all in. When she finally turns to look at me again, I say, “It’s not box five since they’re not numbered like that, but I thought it worked for the occasion.”

Nicolette blinks. “You know about Phantom?”

FIFTEEN

CONNECTION

ROYCE

Ididn’t.

Before Nicolette, I knew shit about anything musical theater-related. Like, I remember hearing there was one about humans playing cats that was famous before I was born. Bonnie and Clyde had a short-lived show about them that I only heard about because, when I was a teen, I was fucking obsessed with Clyde Barrow. Other than that, I wasn’t interested.

But Nicolette is, and I made it my mission to learn.

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