Page 16 of Stolen Voices
Either Eli doesn’t hear me or ignores me. “I’m going to be onset working. I might have to step out for a minute, but if you need anything, let me know.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” I amble my way over to the wingback chair, making sure not to limp.
“Your call,” he states over his shoulder and struts into the bathroom like he owns the place.
I lean my elbows onto the vanity, prop my head in my hands and stare into the mirror. I watch his reflection in the mirror as he opens the cabinets, searching for who knows what.
“What are you doing?” I watch Eli bend over, and I can’t help biting my lip to stifle a groan at the sight of his tight butt. Elijiah Miller might be a pain in my ass, but his is perfection.
“Aha.” He walks back into the room, carrying an instant ice pack. I twist the chair to face him as he punches, shakes, and hands it to me. “Put this on your knee. Don’t think I didn’t see you limp.”
“Fine.” I grab the pack from his hand with more force than necessary and place it on my knee. “Why are you so annoying?”
“Why aren’t you telling me how you got hurt?” He takes a seat on the purple velvet ottoman and faces me as he rests his elbows on his knees, ready for me to talk.
“Do you always answer a question with a question?” I sound like a brat and I hate it, but this man brings it out of me. Since the day I met Eli, he’s just had this ability to piss me off. And turn me on.
“Do you always answer a question with a question?” he asks coolly.
See, right there? Why does he have to be so smooth? So unaffected?
“Real mature.” I glower as Eli glares at me.
My eyes bounce between his as he watches me watch him. If not for the twitch in his cheek, he’d look like a chiseled statue of a Roman god. I’d bet a million dollars he’d have no problem staying in this position until I gave in.
So, I do. “There was a shoe malfunction. My heel broke. I slipped and fell knee first onto the edge of the stage box.”
“Your heel broke?”
If this were any other person, I’d hear the disbelief in that question. I mean, I couldn’t believe it when it happened. It was a freak accident. Right? But that’s not how Eli asked. He sounded serious, and maybe … worried? The thought makes me shiver.
I push that crazy idea away. “That’s what I said.”
“Don’t you have someone managing costumes? Ensuring stuff like this doesn’t happen? Does Hudson know?”
“Yes. I checked everything with my costume supervisor before the set. But…” My thoughts drift back to yesterday, and I remember what went on before I fell.
“But what?” Eli prods.
I shake my head. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. You’re hurt. Tell me everything that happened.” He points at me, and I know he’s serious when his jaw ticks. “And don’t leave anything out.”
“Can you be any bossier?”
Eli flashes me a cocky smirk. “Yes. Now talk.” He waves his hand in a circle, gesturing for me to continue.
“Fine. Maggie—that’s my costume person—and I did a pre-rehearsal check on all the dresses.” I can’t stop myself from making a face. I hate all the costumes so damn much.
Eli’s brow lifts, but he stays quiet.
“After the dresses, we checked the shoes. Everything was in working order. Everything was fine until the last change … when I fell.”
“I didn’t miss the way you trailed off. What happened between your check and changing?”
I was hoping he didn’t catch that because I’m not sure. I keep trying to tell myself that it was an accident, but something in my gut disagrees. But there isn’t anything concrete to tell me otherwise, just a feeling.
I keep to the facts. “I don’t know. Maggie’s job is to move the costumes from my dressing room to their locations. Some go under the stage and some on either side. I don’t see the outfits again until I make the swaps, but I have less than a minute to change for the last set, so I don’t look. I just switch and rush out.”
