For The Edison, of course.
I'm not thinking of that tightening in my stomach when she sang to me. I'm not thinking about what her lips felt like, pressed to mine. I'm not thinking about her in those pink panties and matching bra. I'm only thinking about how good she could have been for The Edison.
"Well, it's done now, mate, so we move on. Who else can Carson Reuben sweet talk into spending a few weeks with us this summer? Anyone else desperate and teetering on the edge that we can dangle the carrot in front of?"
Grayson laughs. "I doubt it. We'll have to really find some outstanding talent at auditions next week."
As he says it, I know I'll never be able to hear anyone sing "A Million Dreams" but Tabitha. One night that will haunt my brain forever.
Another reason—as if I needed one—why love is a waste of time. All it does is find new ways to torture you. "We need to move on and forget all about this misstep. At least it wasn't out there that we were actively scouting her. Can you imagine what fools we'd look like?"
I can almost hear Grayson shrugging this off through the phone. "It's fine. You know what they say—any publicity is good publicity. Just pick good people next week to make up for your colossal failure."
"She didn't even show up! She was probably dead already! What was I supposed to do?" I don't know why I'm yelling, but I am.
"Simmer down, man. I was talking about striking out with Tabitha Stetson."
"What would we do if she was interested in The Edison? We can't afford her. Not to mention, she's flighty and full of drama. You won't believe the situation with her baby da—"
Whoops.
I pull myself up short before divulging this private information. See? One date in and I'm already in a tangled mess. No thank you.
"What's that now?" Grayson's always been a nosy sort. He's perfect for the small town of Hicklam, where everybody is up in everybody else's business. Make no mistake, he has the talent for Broadway, even if his personality is more inclined to small town living.
It'd make so much more sense for him to live in the city, close to the action, where my personality would much prefer the sleepy pace of Hicklam. If there was work there year-round, I'd never come back to the city.
"Nothing. Just she's full of drama. Not my type."
"Whoisyour type, Henderson? I don't know that anyone can meet those standards. For all I know, you've taken a vow of celibacy. How many women—and men—from how many summers have tried to get with you? You turn them all down. And, if I'm reading between the lines, you turned Tabitha down too. If a hot celebrity like her isn't good enough, will anyone ever be?"
"It's easier this way. No headaches."
No heartbreaks.
"And one of us has to be able to focus on making this theatre successful. You're too busy out gallivanting around with Gloria."
"One of us needs to have a smile on his face, at least occasionally. See you next week."
As I disconnect, I can't help but feel like I messed up. Royally.
I wish I hadn't run out of there without getting her number.
Regret sucks.
Chapter 13: Tabitha
Two salon visits, more hours than I'd like to admit, and more money than I should admit, and I'm blonde again.
At least I recognize myself in the mirror again.
Yet somehow, I still don't feel right. Maybe it's because I'm not with Paisley. Maybe it's because I don't have anything to do. I still can't figure out the subway, and I'm really not a museum person.
Or maybe it's because I'm wishing I could go out with Henderson again.
I'm not used to people walking away from me.
That's it.
