The last person on the face of the Earth I was expecting washer.
No. Freakin. Way.
I pull my lips tightly together, mostly to keep the string of expletives from rushing out.
There I am, standing in the middle of a train station, holding a sign like a chump, only to find out I'm waiting to chauffeur Leslie Ann Moose back to The Edison. If it wouldn't totally screw over everyone at the theater, I'd hightail it out of here before she sees—
"JOSH!" Her voice echoes throughout the terminal, and her bags hit the ground with a thud. She's sprinting toward me and before I know it, her body is slamming into mine, her arms wrapping around my neck. I stagger back with the force, my own hands involuntarily encircling her waist to prevent us both from going ass over teakettle.
Her scent fills my nostrils, and immediately I'm sixteen again and so deeply in love I don't know what to do with myself.
No.
I will not go back there.
I cannot go back there.
It's a bad place. A dark place. A place that I will no longer frequent.
I push her away, trying not to be too forceful. "Leslie."
She stares at me, blinking those beautiful brown eyes.
"I guess I'm your ride back to The Edison." There's still hope in her face. Shit. I remember what I'm here to do.Coax.Schmooze. Convince. "It's good to see you again. Now let's get your bag and get on the road." I take a few steps toward her duffle bag. It's sizable and heavy, which makes me think she's planning on being here for a bit.
Even still, I can't blow this for Grayson.
Leslie doesn't say anything until we're back in Grayson's car. "Josh, I … I owe you an explanation."
She does. She totally does.
"It's fine. What's past is past. No need to dwell on it." Not like I've been thinking about it for the past decade or anything. I grip the steering wheel and try not to grind my molars down to dust before we get back to Hicklam. "In fact, let's not bring it up. We're starting over right now."
"But …"
"So, you're considering the role of Anne? It's a great role. I hope you're familiar with it. I think Grayson said he was going to send you the book. He said you had the music too. Maybe you want to review it. It's about forty-five minutes to the theater from here." I ramble on like a jerk. Anything to keep her from talking.
"Um, okay. Yeah, I've got the song."
"Why don't you look through it? Maybe start humming it out."
"I'm good. I can wait until we get there."
I glance over to see her flicking at the side of her fingernail.
"Well, the rest of the cast has already been in rehearsals for three days. Not to mention you've got to learn the aerial stuff. Have you ever been on the silks or lyra before?" It's not like I really even know what those are. They're phrases I've heard Jasmine and Levi bat about. I wouldn't know a silk if it hit me in the lyra.
The silence fills the car, thick and heavy. I probably shouldn't have said that. The Leslie I used to know was a perfectionist, striving to be the best in absolutely everything she did. Pointing out that everyone else already has a leg up on her probably wasn't the smartest thing.
But I've never been smart when it comes to Leslie.
Obviously.
"I mean, I'm sure Grayson and Henderson and Kori have a plan to make it work for you. They obviously thought you were right for the part, otherwise, they wouldn't have called."
"No, they're desperate, and I fit the demographic they need. How many other black or brown actors do they have floating around?"
This is a chip she rightfully carries on her shoulder. "Actually, I think you'll find The Edison is pretty diverse." I run through a mental tally. "We have a standard company of eight male and eight female ensembles for every show. At least half of the company are actors of a minority. That doesn't include our leads."
