Page 7 of What I'm Looking For

Dave claps me on the shoulder. “Excellent. We’ll bring you back in shortly, but we’re going to start with, uh?…” He picks up a piece of paper. “Randall and Oliver.”

Becky, Janet’s assistant, looks up from the pile of scripts she’s sorting on the floor. “Can you send them in, Will?”

“You bet.” Buzzing with anticipation, I jog to the door.

One step closer to my goal. I have a feeling it’s going to be a good night.

* * *

When I checkmy watch as I exit the building with Mike, Oliver and Randall, I can’t believe it’s almost eleven. Mike leaps down the short flight of stone steps, obviously as full of adrenaline as I am. “Who’s up for a beer?”

Randall laughs. “You have to ask?”

The guys start up Comm Ave. in the direction of the dive bar where we’ve gathered since we were students post-show, post-audition, post-anything that needed processing.

I call after them. “I’m going to wait for Jess so she doesn’t have to walk by herself. She’s changing her clothes.”

Mike turns around and continues to walk backwards. “That could take hours, dude.”

“She promised to be quick.” I wave them on. “Save us some seats.”

Left on my own for the first time in hours, the first thing that pops into my head is not a quote from one of the shows I’ve been reading for all night. Instead, it’s the defiant chin of that girl at the bar last night, the one I made the fake old fashioned for. I don’t know why I gave her such a hard time, but I can’t stop thinking about her.

It’s not like I don’t see stunning women every day. There’s Jessica with her perfect curves, golden-brown skin and hair so huge it should have its own résumé. But we’ve worked together so much she’s like a sister to me. Two cute college students were at the callbacks, a freckled redhead and a bubbly black girl. Of course, they’re way too young for me. Then there’s that New York actress. With long blond ringlets, big blue eyes and a peaches-and-cream complexion, she’d be eye candy to anybody.

Except me, I guess.

Losing my dad to gambling and watching my mom struggle to raise three boys on her own made me really careful about who I date. Plus, sleeping with people you’re working with is never a good idea.

Now, if that feisty workaholic ever shows up at the bar again or, better yet, if she comes to the Boys and Girls Club tomorrow, I might ask her out. Seems like she could use a chance to blow off some steam.

The T rumbles by. Still no Jessica. After a bit of searching in the theater building, I finally find her talking to Isabelle outside the dance studio. I auditioned with the New Yorker a few times tonight and was pleasantly surprised. Subtle and reserved, she’s the complete opposite of Jessica, who leaks emotion from every inch of her body.

I wave my arms. “Jess, are you coming or what?”

Both women turn in my direction, but only Jessica opens her mouth. “Sorry, I was just telling Bella about the studio over in Central Square.” Jess teaches dance at a few places, and Bella—I guess they’re at the nickname stage already—has the upright carriage of a dancer, too.

Jessica grabs Bella’s forearm, startling the taller woman. “I’m going for a drink with Will and a couple of the other guys. Do you want to join us?”

She lets Jess pull her down the hall but shakes her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got to get home.”

Jess locks elbows with her new buddy. “We’ll walk you to your car.”

She parked in the opposite direction, so it’s eleven-thirty by the time we make it to the bar. Turns out Bella has a kid, but Jess thinks there’s more to her story.

I open the door and usher her inside. “Man, I can’t imagine having to support a family on what I make.”

“I didn’t find out if she has a husband or not, but she did tell me that this is the first time she’s auditioned since she had her daughter, who’s six, and she told the directors she can only do one show this season.” She goes up on tiptoes to scan the room. “Lucky for me because she’s major competition.”

Jess is tiny, so she probably can’t see that the guys have commandeered a table at the back. “They’re over by the Pac-Man,” I tell her. “What do you want from the bar?” I treated this bartender to free drinks just last week, so he’ll probably reciprocate.

She puts a hand to her brow. “‘I would give all of my fame for a pot of ale.’Henry V.”

“‘Good company, good welcome and good wine can make good people.’Henry VIII,” I quote in return. “But all ofyourfame wouldn’t buy a small Coke.”

She sticks her tongue out. “Thanks, rub it in. Now I’m even more worried that Soap Opera Bella is going to take Juliet from me.”

“I’m kidding, Jess. You’ve got Juliet in the bag. She was better than I expected, but she can’t have anywhere near the stage experience you have. And despite your lack of fans, I’ll buy you a G and T.”

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