Page 14 of Directing You
“If I’m not going to be considered for the nun, I’d rather just try my hand at assistant directing or costume designing than be cast as another prostitute.”
“Good lord, how many whores have you played in your life?”
“More than I have fingers,” I answered honestly.
Rosa asked, laughing. “Seriously, though, they would be crazy not to cast you as the lead. Even though you are amazing at designing your costumes for Hazel Moon, I miss seeing you on stage.”
“Dude, I’m on the stage almost every night. You can come to the Ruby Slipper anytime you want.”
“Tonto del culo,” she muttered in Spanish beneath her breath and I chuckled at one of her favorite phrases. Granted, she warned me to never repeat that to someone I didn’t know… I guess it could be really offensive. Like… how you can call your best friend a bitch jokingly.
“Anyway,” I said, “have you heard from Noah?”
Rosa and Noah had become friends through me, and he sometimes consulted her about his character development for roles he was playing. He always claimed he wanted to get a deep psychological profile, but I was pretty sure he just wanted to be deep into my psychologist friend.
“He called me yesterday.” She went silent, offering me nothing more.
“And?” I prodded. “Did he explain himself? Did he have an aneurism that night and forget that I was in the same program that his best friend was teaching at?”
She cleared her throat. “No aneurism. But he said he honestly didn’t think you’d be in the same class as Reid.”
“Yeah, right.” I threw away the empty coffee tray, taking the final cup of coffee for myself and bringing it to my lips to take a sip. “Like hell he didn’t know. Hehadto have known that we would at least run into each other here. He put my job and scholarship at risk. Not to mention, Professor Bradley’s—”
“Professor Bradley’s what?” a deep baritone voice rumbled behind me, and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly.
“Gotta go, Ro.” I ended the call, turning on my heels to face Reid—Professor Bradley. Professor Cockhead. “I’ve been trying to get Noah on the phone for the last week,” I said simply, hoping that answered his question.
“Ah.” His eyes lit up as he nodded.
I felt my mouth dip into a scowl. “Ah?” I asked. That’s all I got? Then, realization dawned on me. “That son of a bitch. He answeredyourcalls, didn’t he?”
“Call. Singular. And if it makes you feel any better, I think I caught him off guard,” Reid said, looking around. We were still a good twenty minutes early to class, and other students hadn’t started showing up yet.
“You haven’t known Noah as long as I have,” I said. “He’s a master avoider when he wants to be.”
“Noah’s a good guy. I think he’s being honest when he said he didn’t think we’d ever see each other here. He meant well that night.”
“Yeah, well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Besides, of the two of us, I’m pretty sure I have more to lose.”
Reid lifted a brow at me but didn’t argue with me on that point. Sure, he had further to fall, but he had a much larger cushion at the bottom. I was free-falling straight toward concrete. He opened the door to the theater, holding it for me, his eyes flicking to the coffee cup in my hand. “That better not have dairy in it.” His gaze lifted to mine, those green irises brighter than I’d ever seen them. “Bad for the voice, you know?”
My brow lifted into an arc. “I know. It’s black coffee.”
“Black coffee. A woman after my own heart.”
We stood there staring at each other for a fraction of a second, the molecules between us buzzing to life. As I walked past him into the theater, my shoulder brushed against his broad chest, and his rich pine scent filled my nose. The memory of his lips on mine, his finger sliding deep inside me, permeated my thoughts, filling me like smoke in my lungs and nearly as suffocating. I couldn’t get that night out of my brain, out of my fantasies, and for a week, every night when I crawled into bed, I remembered his thick muscles beneath me on the couch in the Champagne Room.
I blinked up at him and with the quick, fleeting glance, a thought crossed my mind.Did he think of me at night as well?
Nope. Don’t go there, Hazel.
“You ready for this?” he asked, his voice booming in the empty theater.
I swallowed. I hadn’t had an audition in months. I had skipped the fall play this year, opting instead to be the stage manager. “I would truly rather assistant direct or do the costuming if you’re looking for behind-the-scenes people,” I answered honestly.
His face revealed nothing, but he stared at me an extra second longer than felt comfortable. “Do you have a passion for directing?”
I nodded, even though it wasn’t entirely true. I mean, I didn’tnothave a passion for it. Based on the way his eyes narrowed, crinkling at the corners briefly, I don’t think he believed me. “What is it about directing that interests you?”
