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He raised an eyebrow. “What kind of trouble?”
I didn’t mince words as I told him about her inappropriate behavior towards Timothy.
We quickly agreed that it was time to let her go, and I volunteered to be the one to deliver the news. I needed to put an end to her scheming once and for all.
I made my way to Tomma’s dressing room, my heart pounding with a mix of anger and determination. I knocked sharply on the door, and Tomma answered with a smirk on her face.
“What do you want, Spencer?” she sneered.
I cut to the chase. “Tomma, it’s time for you to go. Your behavior towards Timothy earlier was completely inappropriate, and it’s not something we tolerate on this show.”
Tomma’s face twisted into a sensual smile. “I see. Only producers get an exception. So, what’s it going to take to make this all go away?”
I felt my stomach churn at the implication. “I want nothing from you, Tomma. You need to leave the theater immediately.”
Tomma’s expression hardened. “Fine. But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”
I felt a surge of anger at Tomma’s words. “I will never change my mind, Tomma. What you did was wrong, and it’s not something I take lightly.”
Tomma chuckled, her voice dripping with venom. “Oh, you’re such a hypocrite, Spencer. You’re just trying to protect your little girlfriend.”
I felt my fists clenching at my sides. “Watch your mouth, Tomma. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Tomma fired back. “Oh, I think I do. You’re just like all the other Broadway big shots. You think you can do whatever you want, and nobody will call you out on it.”
I stood my ground, refusing to let her intimidate me. “I’m not like that. And neither is anyone else on this show besides you. We’re all here to create something special, not to indulge in petty drama.”
Tomma rolled her eyes. “Sure, Spencer. Whatever you say. It’s your loss.”
As I watched her leave, I felt a sense of relief mixed with a lingering anger. I knew I had made the right decision.
FIFTY-THREE
LONDON
Last fall,my friends and I had pizza and beer at my place while we watched the Tonys. Tonight, Gin and Rocio were watching on television as Spencer and I, along with Mercedes and the rest of the cast, attended the live show.
Six nominations. Best Musical, Best Book of a Musical, best lead actor in a musical for Timothy, best costume design, best set design, and best lead actress in a musical.
Yeah, I was nominated for a Tony.
Even as Spencer held out a hand to help me out of the limo, I could barely believe it. Hell, the entire last year felt like a dream.
I’d picked up the week after we’d returned to New York and managed not to miss another day until two weeks ago, when I finally hit the point where even creative costuming couldn’t hide the fact that I was pregnant. I was one of those women who didn’t really ‘pop’ until later because I’d barely been showing through my whole pregnancy, and then it was like I woke up one morning and, bam, there it was.
Not for the first time, I was grateful my brother was a fashion designer. Carson had outdone himself this time, designing something that he could make quick alterations to this morning, so it fit perfectly for the show tonight.
Still, I couldn’t help looking at Mercedes in her gorgeous deep blue dress and five-inch heels and thinking that no matter how good my brother was, I still looked like a beached whale compared to the other ‘beautiful people’ here.
“You’re blazing smashing,” Spencer said in my ear.
“What?”
He smiled at me and kissed my temple. “I know what you’re thinking, luv, and you’re just as beautiful as your friend.”
“You’re biased,” I pointed out. “We live together, and you’re partly responsible for my appearance tonight.”
He chuckled. “I suppose you’re right.”
