Page 8 of What I'm Looking For

She smiles sweetly. “Thank you, kind sir. I’ll save you a seat.”

By the time I make it back to the table, Oliver’s launched into a story about some commercial he shot last week. The others chime in with comments about this casting director or that producer they wish they could meet. Since I don’t go out for that kind of work, my mind wanders back to the brunette I met yesterday, wondering if she might actually show up to volunteer tomorrow.

Jess whaps me on the arm and when I jerk away beer sloshes onto my hand. “What the fuck, Jess?”

She knocks on my forehead. “Mike asked you a question three times, space cadet.”

I put my mug down and grab a napkin. “Sorry. Thinking.”

Mike waves at me from across the table. “I said, did you really only get to do Romeo that one time with me?”

With all the switching up of scene partners and moving back and forth between two plays, I didn’t have a chance to tell anyone my news. “Yeah, but it’s a good thing. I’m doing the fights. On my own. Dave’ll help out while he’s in town, but then it’s all on me. So, playing Romeo on top of that probably would be a bit much.”

Randall lifts his glass. “Congrats, man. I mean, that’s good, right?”

I nod, pride stretching my lips into a wide smile. “Yeah, it’s very good. It’s a big step, but I’m psyched.”

Oliver reaches over and taps my mug with his. “The lucky vest rides again.”

“Yeah, I might have to start sleeping in a vest soon.”

Mike barks out a laugh. “Then you might actuallygetlucky.”

“Hilarious. Anyway, thanks, guys.” I clink glasses around the table before taking a gulp. “I mean, I’m gonna kick your butts in the workouts, but I can’t imagine torturing anyone else.”

“Glad I don’t have to leap around with a pointy sword,” Jess says.

“It’s called a rapier,” Oliver says. “Jeez. Women.”

She rolls her eyes and holds up her cocktail. “Anyway, here’s hoping we all hear good news tomorrow. ‘Fortune is merry, and in this mood will give us anything.’Julius Caesar.”

Chapter3

BEEP. Saturday, 9:04 a.m.

Will, it’s Jess. I’m so sorry, but I can’t give you a ride to the volunteer thing. Sorry! I had an audition pop up for today at noon, but I’ll get there as soon as I can afterward.

WILL

Taking a break to stretch my back, I take stock. Digging out a four-by-sixteen-foot garden bed is taking longer than I thought it would. I’ve been at it for a good hour already, like the other volunteers scattered around the community center grounds, but the boost of energy provided by this morning’s good news from Shakespeare Boston has kept me going. Before I pick up the shovel again, a backlit riot of hair catches my eye. My volunteer buddy is finally here. Unfortunately, in heels and a bright blue belted jumpsuit, she’s not dressed for the job at hand.

Before I can say so, Jess raises a finger to silence me. “‘Let every man be master of his time.’ The Scottish Play.”

“‘Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends.’Henry Four, Part One.”

She throws her hands in the air. “What are you going to do? Kill me for being late?”

“‘Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.’Merry Wives.” Ha. I’m up by two.

She draws a hand across her brow. “‘I wasted time and now time doth waste me.’”

“Wow, that’s a good one. What’s that from?” Jess and I are cutthroat in our competition to best each other with random Shakespeare quotes.

“Venus and Adonis.” She curtsies, her head bowed.

I stab the dirt with my shovel. “All right, you win this round. But you’re still an hour late.”

“I’m sorry, but you know how it is at these auditions. If you’re late, they’re running on time but if you’re on time, they’re running late.”

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