A Midsummer Night's Fling (Stage Kiss Series Book 1) (14 page)

She'd crammed herself into a booth with Tierney and Lachlan, then Cassie arrived and the squish quotient went up a notch. Lachlan settled his arm along the top of their booth to make more room. Nicola found herself snuggled up to his lean, taut torso, feeling the heat of him through the cotton of his shirt.

On Nicola's first beer, being pressed so close together felt awkward.
 

By her third, it just felt cozy.
 

She was admiring the glinting light of his red hair and watching his pretty mouth move as he chatted to Tierney, when Cassie jabbed her in the side. "Charlie-girl."

 
"Hmm?" Nicola turned.

Cassie eyed her, and Nicola could
see
her friend's nurse reflexes kicking in, noting Nicola's pupil dilation, her muscle movements.

"I'm not drunk, Cass."

"You start petting the table and I'm cutting you off." Cassie snagged one of the cheesy fries from the plate at the center of their table.

Nicola stuck her tongue out at Cassie then took another sip of beer. Sometimes having old friends who knew most of your dirty secrets wasn't so fun.

Tierney leaned around Lachlan to pull the cheese fries closer to herself. "'Petting the table'?"

"Ah, yes," Cassie said. "You two should know about the 'tactile phase' if you're going to drink with Nic."
 

Nicola groaned.

Cassie ignored her. "If Nicola starts stroking the table, or petting's someone hair or becomes fascinated with touching any particular thing then take her alcohol away. If she reaches that point and you let her have more, be warned, the puking will be imminent."

"It was one time!"

The rest of the table laughed at Nicola's vehemence, and she was forced to chuckle along with them. All right, maybe it
was
kind of funny when she fell into her drunken "tactile phase," as it had been nicknamed.

"So, Cassie, what do you do?" Tierney asked around a mouthful of fries.

"I'm a nurse now."

"
Now
?" Lachlan drawled. "What, my delightful plum blossom, did you
used
to do?" His accent was thickening from the drink, and he kept enunciating his consonants hard – as only an actor can do while drunk.

"She used to be in the ensemble with me in
Les Mis
," Nicola said. "Best singer in the cast. Better than me. You bitch." She wrinkled her nose affectionately at Cassie, and her friend mirrored the expression with a laugh.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Tierney asked, her face softening with sympathy.

Cassie gulped her beer then wiped her mouth. "No. The choreographer kept telling me I was too fat.
And
the director.
And
the dressers.
And
my castmates. So I quit. Besides, being an Asian in this industry is tough."

Tierney raised her beer. "Sing it, sister."

Lachlan gave Cassie a thorough – and thoroughly appreciative – once over. "You're not fat. You're a, a
bombshell
. An Asian Marilyn Monroe. With tattoos." His voice went croaky on the end, which was vaguely adorable.

"Careful," Cassie said. "You'll turn a girl's head."

"Turn my way anytime, love."

Cassie colored in a blush, obviously pleased by his compliment, but she tweaked his nose and said, "You know, Lachlan, your womanizing ways will get you in trouble someday."

Lachlan turned to Nicola, his eyebrows raised in mock-horror. "Do you think that's true?"

"Nah." Nicola leaned on Lachlan and beamed up at him. "So, if Cassie's Marilyn who am I? Rosalind Russell? Jack Lemmon?"

He smirked. "Are you kidding? With your hair and those glorious brown eyes? Your perfect, petite little figure? You, my petal, are Audrey Hepburn. But with an edge."

"And a better ass," Cassie put in, raising her beer.

The table laughed. Nicola leaned on Lachlan. His eyes were very, very blue. Big and pretty. The irises startlingly light, pale like arctic ice. Max's were a deep, Caribbean blue, and shone like the sun beaming through warm water.

Nicola recoiled.
Don't think of Max now, you dummy
.

Lachlan tilted toward her – with clear intent – but she flinched, jerking her hand out to grab the cheese fries. She had a warm, lovely, floating buzz going, but Max-Thoughts were like being tossed into a barrel of ice water and held under.

 
"Lachlan, what's your story?" Cassie said, rescuing Nicola from his disconcerting attention. And the way Cassie's gaze flicked toward Nicola meant she knew she was staging a rescue.
The Mother Hen strikes again
. "What sent you hopping over the pond away from Merry Old England?" Cassie asked.

Tierney jumped in before Lachlan could speak. "Oh, don't get Lach started on England when he's in his cups. You'll never hear the end of it."

Lachlan curled his lip at her then paused and sort of stretched high in his seat. The chord of his neck stood out strong, and Nicola admired the sheer aesthetic beauty of him. Not as pretty as Max – no one was as pretty as Max – but still, Lachlan was damn easy on the eyes.

"Well, well. The prodigal arrives," Lachlan drawled.

Easy on the ears too
. Nicola puffed out a sigh. Lachlan. What to do with Lachlan? He was being super flirty, Nicola liked him, he was gorgeous, charming,
British
. Perfect material, in other words, for a quick show fling.

Yet Nicola's admiration for him was oddly detached. Even half-drunk and edging toward horny, she found herself uninterested in following through in any physical way on their flirtation. Which was at least half of why she had invited Cassie in the first place. Nicola didn't want to give Lachlan an opportunity to make a move. She didn't want the awkwardness of shooting him down.
 

Cassie's pointy finger dug into Nicola's ribs. Nicola rounded on her friend. "
What?
"

"Isn't that Max?"

Nicola forced herself to glance over. She was mentally assembling a collection of polite, safe chitchat to deal with Max when she realized her ex wasn't alone.
 

A woman hung on Max's arm, laughing and flirting up at him. Ice water trickled through Nicola's veins as she recognized the woman's silver-blonde hair and throaty laugh.
What is Max doing?

"Isn't that Judith O'Fallon with Max?" Tierney leaned on the table to see through the crowd.

A muscle ticked in Lachlan's jaw. "I believe so."

"Wow," Cassie said. "She's a bit of a silver-fox, isn't she? I hope I'm that hot at her age."

Watching Judith laugh and flirt with Max, watching Max play the perfect date, Nicola's blood pumped faster, pounding in her ears like a war drum.
 

"Funny," Lachlan said, tearing at the label of his beer. "Dear Max told
me
he was going straight home after rehearsal."

Nicola polished off the rest of her beer then plucked Cassie's bottle out of her hands and worked on that.

"Uh, Charlie?"

Nicola grimaced into her drink, irritated at the bubble of jealousy building inside her. She didn't want Max. Not really.

But damned if I want anybody else to have him either
.

That was natural enough, right? Ex-boyfriends were supposed to go out to pasture to die. To die miserable, celibate, and alone, in fact. They were not supposed to enter into a relationship with a ridiculously talented, annoyingly well-preserved, semi-famous director extraordinaire.
Right under my nose
. That for damn sure wasn't how the reunion was supposed to go.

Tierney bumped Lachlan with her shoulder. "Max is getting the jump on you, Lach."

Lachlan's nostrils flared and a stiff smile tensed his mouth, but all he did was take another swallow of beer.

Nicola tried to shove her fuzzy brain toward coherence. "Jump? On what?"

"
Henry V
is the big play this fall." Tierney was arranging the empty bottles in the center of the table, making a glass fort for some reason. "Lachlan, being an arrogant ass, assumed the part was his. But Max is getting into the game now." The beer bottles arranged to her satisfaction, Tierney propped her chin on one hand and slid a smug, amused glance toward Lachlan.

Cassie raised her eyebrows. "Making nice with the director for a part? That won't end well."

Tierney laughed. "Such a pessimist. I'm sure Max and Judith will live theatrically ever after."

Nicola flinched as Max moved toward their booth, but he was only escorting Judith to a table several feet away. He held a chair out for the director and happened to glance over.

As he and Nicola made eye contact, his mouth fell open.

She gave him a curt wave.
Jack ass
.

Max's gaze flicked over the rest of their party, and his eyebrows drew down in a mighty frown at the sight of Lachlan. Well, probably at the sight of Lachlan with his arm behind – practically
around
– Nicola.
 

Max's frown was quite impressive, he looked like Zeus about to do some serious smiting with his lightning bolts.
He should channel some of that rage into his Oberon
. He circled around his table to sit across from Judith. Max gave Nicola's group a brief wave, gave Nicola her own special, burning scowl, then he focused on Judith. As he spoke to the director, a brilliant smile lit his face, and the sight of his laugh lines made Nicola's heart clench.
 

She sighed into her beer. After everything she'd been through, everything Max had put her through, how could the sight of him still make her eyes so happy, make her heart skip with school-girlish glee?

What is wrong with me?

***

What the fuck is wrong with me?
Max thought, not for the first time as he tried to focus on Judith. Now he was in the meeting with her, their drinks sitting in front of them, casual chitchat out of the way, all he seemed able to concentrate on was Nicola sitting with Lachlan across the bar.
 

Really, that was Judith's fault. If the director wanted privacy then they shouldn't have come to one of the known cast hangouts. If Judith wanted to discuss business then this meeting should have taken place in one of the theater offices and not The Bore's Head.

The meeting should also have happened much,
much
farther away from Nicola in her red off-the-shoulder sweater. The delicate bones of her clavicle, the graceful column of her throat kept distracting him. He pretty much hadn't heard a single word Judith had said since seeing Nicola. All his senses were strained toward the other table. Listening for Nicola's laugh, trying to catch words. Trying to see how serious Lachlan was about hitting on his ex-girlfriend.
 

"So, you've heard the gossip then?" Judith asked. One of her cool white hands reached out to brush his, startling Max enough that he slopped some of his drink onto the table.
 

As he blotted the mess with paper napkins, he forced himself to keep his attention on Judith. If he offended the director tonight he could kiss
Henry V
goodbye with a big, smacking smooch right in Lachlan's direction. "The
Henry V
rumors you mean? You're directing, right?"

Judith smirked as she sipped her expensive scotch. "My, my. What an active rumor mill the RSF has."

Max opened his palm in a small shrugging gesture.
 

"Yes," she said. "The RSF is putting
Henry V
together for the fall, and I'm directing. We're going to have auditions, of course, but I want our King Henry cast ahead of time. I'm thinking of using a company member as King Henry." Judith set her glass down and spun it around between her hands. "I saw you play Pompey in
Antony and Cleopatra
last year. You have great physical presence, and I think you're a talented actor, Max. I think you could do exciting things with the Henry part."

"Thank you." He took another slow gulp of his drink, hoping to return some moisture to his mouth.
King
Henry
.
YES
. Max pinched his lips, trying to keep himself from beaming. But, inside, he was doing a touchdown dance
. Mine, mine. Henry is mine
.

"But."
 

Max felt like she'd poured his icy drink over the back of his neck. "But?"

"I've got my eye on a few of the other young men in the company. Outside the RSF too."

"Lachlan?"

"Among others."

Others?
Max swallowed, suddenly worried.
 

***

Nicola watched Max ease forward over at his table, leaning toward Judith. Whispering sweet nothings, no doubt.
Stupid Max
.

Nicola jumped as Cassie poked her in the side. "Come with me to the bathroom, Charlie?"

"Really, Cass? This is so unlike you."

"Behaving like an actual girl? I know." Cassie rolled her eyes. "Come on."

Lachlan slid out of the booth to accommodate them. Nicola smiled back at him as she tottered through the bar.
So pretty. So Not-Max
. Cassie tugged on Nicola's arm to keep her moving.