Page 65 of What I'm Looking For

Tom pushes me playfully from behind. “Wait, you have a girlfriend? How come we don’t know about this?”

“Who’d go out with him?” Jerry chimes in. “He’s old!”

I’m only nine years older, but the college interns do make me feel ancient.

Jessica joins the group. “Not only does he have a girlfriend, but she’s cute and rich.”

Jerry reaches up for a high five. “Whoa. Nice going, dude!”

I bat the hand away. “She’s not rich.”

Jessica sets her hands on her hips, which looks pretty silly in her medieval-era gown. “Compared to me, she is. She owns her own apartment. And she’s only, what? Twenty-five? Twenty-six?”

I grab a cup and fill it with water from the cooler the stage managers keep filled. “She’s smart with her money. So what?”

Tom whacks me on the back. “I think it’s awesome, dude. Now you can be her sugar—uh, what would he be?”

The other actors circle up to discuss this oh-so-important matter.

Sarah Anne lifts her own cup of water. “He’s her sugar daddy if he supports her. But what’s the opposite? Is she his sugar mama? That sounds odd.”

“Yeah. There must be some other term.” From the devilish expression on her face, it’s obvious Bella’s trying to wind me up. “Like he’s her sex toy? Boy toy? Cabana boy?”

I level a look at her. “Looking to motivate me further for the rest of the show? Don’t worry. I don’t need it.” I brush past them and run smack into Eva Marie, who not only plays the Countess in the show but is co-artistic director for the company. And taught many of us in school. The disappointed look on her face makes me wince. “Sorry.”

She places a calming hand on my shoulder and turns her regal gaze on the others. “Children. Don’t make me be the adult here. I’d prefer to concentrate on my performance.”

I stalk off to the men’s tent, leaving awkward throat clearings and apologies behind me. Randall’s there, sitting in the corner with his eyes closed. I don’t want to disturb him, so I blow out a silent breath. It’s silly to be so sensitive. I want to not give a shit that Kate owns her own place, makes way more money than I do and probably has a big fat savings account to boot. Meanwhile, I can barely afford to take her out to dinner. It shouldn’t matter. We like each other, the sex is great and we make each other laugh.

Who cares if I’ll never be able to support her? Nobody’s talking long term, anyway.

I begin to literally shake the distracting thoughts out of my body so I can focus on the final scenes of the play. Bertram is not an easy character to play. Nothing like Hamlet, but it’s a good warm-up for the Danish prince, especially the way the director has encouraged me to play him—emotionally all over the place.

Thing is, can I play a character who’s a mess and be a mess in my personal life as well? I really hope it’s not a recipe for disaster.

* * *

The messagefrom Kate’s friend waiting for me back at the house post-performance is disappointing, but I’m relieved to hear she’s okay. I was worried when I couldn’t find her after the show. I know she was at the play because my eyes found her the moment I faced the audience in the very first scene, and for the first time since high school, I went up onstage. Thankfully, Randall saved me by delivering both our lines.

Things smoothed out after that, though, and I was looking forward to hearing what she and her friend thought. I was relieved when I saw that she’d brought Alice instead of her co-worker Steve. I haven’t admitted to Kate, or even myself, how much the green-eyed monster has been bugging me since she dropped the fact that she’d gone on an out-of-town trip with him. I mean, the guy’s nickname is Hot Steve. How am I not supposed to be jealous?

Deb bustles into the kitchen followed by Bella, both carrying bags of food. “Just put everything on the table; I’ll sort it out.”

“I’ll help,” Bella says. “Point me to some serving bowls, and I’ll fill them.”

Deb directs her before laying a hand on my back. “Did you hear from Kate?”

“Yeah, her friend called to let me know Kate wasn’t feeling well so they went home.”

“That’s too bad.” She grabs a few items from the table and whisks out to the living room.

Bella looks up from ripping open chip bags. “Hey, sorry about piling on during intermission.”

I wave that off. “Don’t worry about it. I overreacted, anyway. I was telling myself that it’s good to get booed, but it probably threw me off. I just hope the audience got the whole homophobic/homosexual thing. It helps me make sense of Bertram. That he can’t even admit to himself what he really wants, so he acts out by pretending to be this womanizer. It’s hard to know if what I’m doing is too subtle for the audience to pick up.”

“I think it works.” She balls up the chip bags. “Trash under the sink?”

“Yep. Anyway, I think we both deserve a beer.” I open the fridge to peruse the beverage options. “What’ll you have? Beer, wine?”

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