Page 46 of Saved By the Pitcher

When James awoke the next morning to head to rehearsal, Nadia was making coffee, but signaled that Billy was asleep in the bedroom. They both figured his body needed the rest, so they went about their morning preparations with little noise or conversation. That was fine with James, as he was strung tight thinking about how Mike had asked if he could visit James in his dressing room at the end of the matinee. He knew that would be the time he would need to tell Mike it was over, and he had to do so without emotion to convince Mike he wasn’t being pressured to do so. Tears could only be shed before and after Mike’s visit.

James made it through rehearsal and physical therapy on autopilot, then managed an error-free matinee, albeit one with less passion than he could typically muster. Even the crowd must have felt the lower energy, as the standing ovation felt obligatory and polite rather than enthusiastic. He hoped that after he spoke with Mike, he could focus on his work and give an evening performance that the audience deserved.

Once James was settled in his dressing room, he took deep breaths. He had to view himself and Mike as two characters in a play. James needed to deliver the acting performance of his life. He thought he had psyched himself into the right frame of mind, but something in his stomach still took a major drop when Mike knocked on the doorframe. James dared himself to look over. The handsome man was smiling with a basket in hand.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Mike greeted. “Thanks for squeezing me into your day.”

Mike entered the room and pulled the door closed behind him, then winked conspiratorially. Before James could say anything, Mike had rushed over to plant a sweet kiss on James’ lips. Once Mike pulled back, James shuddered, trying to muster the strength to do what needed to be done. “Mike, what’s in the basket?”

Mike grinned more broadly. “I made you something to eat. I know the show taps a lot of energy and you don’t eat properly on Wednesdays because of the two shows.” James frowned.

“Don’t worry,” Mike assured him. “I know you think I brought junk food. I do know how to make healthy stuff. This is my mother’s amazing recipe for turkey salad, using non-fat Greek yogurt. I put it on whole-grain bread.” Mike beamed. “I made the bread. It came out tasty, if I say so myself.”

James turned his head away, wincing as hard as he could to fight the tears from forming. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”

“What’s wrong?” Mike asked. “It’s okay if you don’t want it. I won’t be hurt. Well, maybe just a little, but I should have asked you first. Do you hate turkey?”

James spun back to face Mike. “Mike, this isn’t going to work between us.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” James mumbled, looking down at the floor, avoiding the hurt that he had glimpsed in Mike’s eyes.

“I don’t understand,” Mike sputtered. “Did I do something wrong? Am I coming on too strong?” There was a long moment of silence, so Mike plowed forward. “James, we’ve been having a good time, haven’t we? Whatever I did, we can talk about it and I can adjust.”

James shook his head, still refusing to look Mike in the eye. “There’s nothing to adjust. There’s nothing you did.” Another long moment of silence ensued.

“James, look at me,” Mike pleaded. James did not. “James, if you’re breaking up with me, at least have the courtesy to say it to me eye-to-eye.”

James raised his eyes to look at Mike’s face, which was crestfallen instead of angry. God, he’d rather see Mike furious. “Mike, I want to break up with you.”

Mike swallowed hard and his eyes watered. “May I ask why?”

Trying to psych himself again that he was an actor in a play, James hardened his expression before responding. “You were a crush. What can I say? I liked your poster when I was eighteen. Being with you was fulfilling a horny teenager’s dream at the age of thirty-four. But that’s all it was, Mike. The sex was great, but you want more. I don’t. I warned you days ago, I don’t do relationships.”

Mike shook his head. “If this is about your father…”

“It isn’t,” James snapped.

“James, please don’t do this,” Mike pleaded. “I don’t believe this was just sex to you. You and I connected. Our calls, our text messages, our time together—you were into me. I know you were.”

“It was fun,” James replied. “And now it’s not.”

Mike gasped and James wondered how Mike could retain so much moisture in his eyes that it was visible without any of it leaking down his face. “James, I’ve been falling for you.”

James couldn’t maintain his gaze any longer. He looked at a mark on the wall behind Mike’s head. “I wish you weren’t. They call it falling for a reason. Someone always gets hurt. I didn’t want that for you. You’re a good guy. You should find someone who wants what you want.”

Mike stood silently for a few moments before speaking. “This is what you were thinking the other night when I woke to find you by the window, isn’t it?” James didn’t correct Mike. He figured Mike’s assumption would make it more believable that James wanted the breakup. “I understand. I’m sorry, James. I misread the situation.”

James dared a glance at Mike, and he noticed a single tear had escaped and trickled down his cheek. He watched the man he had idolized for two decades pick up the basket, walk to the door then pause. James knew he shouldn’t, but he found himself hoping Mike would turn around to protest and demand James give them a chance. Instead, Mike sighed, opened the door and walked out of his life.

Chapter Fifteen

It had been a couple of months since his last meeting with James, but Mike still followed news articles about the senator on the chance his son was mentioned. Each day, Mike searched online for James’ name and, on one occasion, it reaped results. Mike found a news story that had hit the wires listing the year’s Tony Award nominations. The article’s headline was that the show that starred James, The More Things Change, was nominated for the most Tonys, including best musical. James’ name was called out separately, as it was newsworthy that the son of a famous senator was nominated for best lead actor in a musical.

Despite the split, Mike was smiling that James made the cut. He hoped James felt pride for securing the votes to be nominated.

Mike tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulled into the New York suburban mansion of Charles Vicksburg. He never thought he’d be in contact with a Vicksburg again—certainly not James’ father. Mike wondered if the senator had alerted either of his boys that Mike was paying a visit. He hoped not. Mike didn’t want them interfering with his plans.