Page 78 of What I'm Looking For

“Uh?…” I shake my head. For once what I think is buried under everything I’m feeling. “I’m still digesting it. It’s amazing how something written—what, four hundred years ago?—can still get to you.”

Ben nods slowly. “Yep, relationships are complicated.”

I gesture to the stage. “I mean, it’s amazing how Isabelle made it clear with so few words that since Helena’s pregnant, she has to marry Bertram even though she hates him now and that she realizes that she screwed herself by forcing herself on him, but also that this patriarchal society gives her few choices. Plus, it’s so cool how they elucidate the meaning of the title.All’s Well That Ends Well. I mean, it’s like Shakespeare is holding this up to us saying, ‘As long as I give you this happy ending, you have to accept all the cruelty that happened along the journey. TheEnds Wellmeans thatAll’s Well.’” I look over at Ben, realizing that, as usual, I’m going on. “Or something like that.”

Ben’s brow wrinkles. “I thought you worked in finance. You sound like a dramaturge.”

I make a face. “That sounds awful. What the heck is a dramaturge?”

He laughs. “It’s someone who studies the text and the inner logic of storytelling and does research on the world of the play.”

“Huh. I could totally do that. Mostly what I do is research, and I think my best reports tell a story, because that’s how you sell stuff.”

Deb waves at us from the aisle. “Guys, we gotta go get ready for the party.”

As we walk toward her, I search the sidelines of the stage, where actors are beginning to emerge. “Do you need my help? Will wanted me to ride with him.”

Deb pats me on the arm. “I suppose you should let him know that you still like him after watching all that bad behavior.”

“I’ll go with them and help,” Ben says as he points toward the stage. “Your prince awaits.”

Will rounds the corner and sends me a wicked smile, even as he listens to someone who’s obviously praising his performance.

“Thanks for being my dates tonight, you guys. It was fun hanging out.”

Deb gives me a quick hug. “Anytime. We miss our boy, but you’re good for him.”

I can’t contain my smile as I trot down the steps, where my very own star waits for me with open arms.

* * *

By midnight,I’m in Will’s arms dancing slowly on the back porch surrounded by twinkle lights. It’s magical out here, the sounds from the stereo inside just loud enough to dance to. We started out, jokingly, in a traditional dance hold when “Rebel Waltz” by The Clash came on, then rocked it out with David Bowie before swaying to Spandau Ballet’s “True.”

A couple months ago, I’d never have imagined myself in such a romantic scene, but in this moment, I truly feel like a princess swept up into my own happily ever after, in the arms of a prince who rescued me from an evil juggler. I’m even at a party past the time that my coach should turn into a pumpkin.

I rest my head on his shoulder and let my body melt into his. Picturing the two of us reprising this scene at my cousin’s wedding next weekend, I let myself believe that sometimes, maybe, things do end well.

Chapter21

BEEP. Wednesday, 9:02 p.m.

Hey Will. Your call time tomorrow is seven a.m. Oh, also, because of a conflict with the location, we’re going to have to push two scenes from Thursday into Friday. Call me if you have any questions.

WILL

As soon as I get home, get the message and confirm it with a phone call, I ride over to tell Kate about the schedule change. The hurt I tried to prevent? I’ve made it worse. She’s on her bed, an expression on her face I’ve never seen before. Defeat. “So, does that mean you can’t go to the wedding?”

I hate this. I squat to cup her knees with my hands. “I don’t see how I can. I’m so sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have let you buy that plane ticket. Now it’s going to waste.”

“Maybe you could just fly down Saturday morning.”

The wobble in her voice squeezes my heart. I run my hands up and down her legs. “And what if they extend again and I can’t take that flight? You’d be throwing good money after bad.”

Her lower lip trembles. Also not something I’m used to seeing. “But I was going to have a date at the wedding.”

I stand, hands on top of my head. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have offered to go in the first place.”

“It’s not your fault. I know that.” She gets up and walks to the bathroom. Blows her nose.

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