Inner Diva (7 page)

Suddenly, the stage was bathed in bright
light, and she wheeled away from it, protecting her eyes.

“Hey, star!” She heard Steve’s shouted voice
from the lighting booth in the back, and instantly missed his
intimate whispered voice in her ear, via her headset. Leaving the
bright lights on, she heard him trotting down the center aisle of
the theater, heading her way. She gulped deep breaths, struggling
to get herself and her emotions under control.

He climbed up onto the stage and pulled her
into a bear hug. She clung to his back, and when he started to pull
away, she held on.

“What …?” He took hold of her shoulders and
gave her a firm shake, holding her a foot away so he could read her
face. “Oh, I know. You’re nervous. This is the big night.”

Monica sighed. “Steve, I’m not just nervous.
I’m insane.”

He laughed.

“No, I’m serious. What the hell am I doing? I
have no business being out here.”

“Of course you do. You’re going to learn the
role of Victoria, and if anything happens to Trina, or if she needs
a night off, you’ll step in for her. You’ll do such an amazing job,
next time you’ll be the star of your own show. You wait and
see.”

Her hands tingled and she closed her eyes to
concentrate on deep breathing. “I can’t do it, Steve.”

“Of course you can.” He gave her a firm nod
and locked gazes with her.

“I botched a ten-minute presentation to the
Board this week. Totally screwed it up.”

“So?”

She shook her head. “If I can’t get a short
presentation right, what makes me crazy enough to think I could get
a whole play right?”

He laughed. In fact, he laughed so hard and
long she pulled herself out of her nervousness long enough to be
ticked off at him. “What?”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Sure it is. I …”

“Monica, look at me. You can do it. You were
born to be up here. You just have to discover that and accept it.
You’ve got your chance. Make the most of it.”

She looked down at the wooden floor, pieces
of masking tape occasionally marking a spot. “You sound so
sure.”

“That’s because I am sure. Will you be
nervous? Yes, anyone would be. But don’t let that stop you from
giving it your best try. That would be a real shame. And you know
what? I’ll be here with you every single step.”

Although her pulse rate had returned to
normal and she no longer felt dizzy, she stared at the floor,
determined to face her fears.

“Got it?” Impatient, Steve reached out and
put a finger under her chin, pulling her head up to face him. She
couldn’t help the grin that crept onto her face. He had so much
faith in her. Unfounded faith, but for right now, it was exactly
what she needed.

“Yeah.”

The actors convened in the front row of
seats, some climbing onto the stage. Steve gave her a fortifying
squeeze of her arm, then headed back to the lighting booth. Monica
retreated away from the actors a bit. She hoped Dave would announce
her new position tonight, and she felt fairly certain they’d be
happy for her. At least, most of them would.

She didn’t have to wait long because Dave
bustled on stage, his shabby notebook in his arm. “Okay, folks, I
have several notes to share from last night’s rehearsal, and I want
everyone’s attention, please.”

The actors settled in, soaking in the
instructional notes. A few marked their scripts as he spoke.
Finally, Dave finished with his handwritten notes and looked up,
gazing around till he spotted her. “Oh yes, one more thing. Monica,
our very own theater manager and props goddess, will be doubling as
Trina’s understudy. She’ll begin tonight rehearsing the role of
Victoria.”

Monica managed a small grin when many members
of the company approached her and patted her on the back. “Great
job, Monica. Looking forward to working with you.”

She heard raucous applause and cheers from
one particular person in the lighting booth. She burst out in a
delighted laugh.

Trina stomped over to Dave, her face stormy
after the understudy revelation. Trina’s frown, scrunched eyebrows
and pointed index finger punctuated words Monica didn’t want to
hear. Dave rubbed a tired hand over his eyes, shook his head and
responded in a softer volume. He nodded and even tried a
pat-pat-pat to her shoulder. She gave an exaggerated shrug,
effectively pushing his hand away.

Monica felt a small jolt of sympathy for
putting him through that. Of course, Dave was the director, which
was often akin to having a bulls-eye painted on your chest.

Shortly, Trina must have felt she’d made her
point because she twirled and stomped away from him. Monica could
swear she felt little reverberations through the stage floor from
her fury.

Monica turned slightly and locked gazes with
David. He gave her a small smirk and a thumbs up gesture.

She was now an understudy. She crossed her
fingers that she’d get her chance to perform live.

Or not.

Carlos had driven her to distraction from the
moment she met him, but after that amazing kiss he’d laid on her
last week, she could think of little else. Even when he wasn’t
around, her body was on full alert. When she was engaged in some
kind of productive activity, like work, or helping Luisa with her
homework, he was at the back of her brain, never straying far,
along with the memory of his lips on hers. But when he was in the
room, she’d study him surreptitiously, collecting memories she
could pull out at times he wasn’t present – a constant arsenal to
drive her crazy and set her whole world on end.

“Thanks for coming over, Monica. I can’t wait
to get my science project back and tell you what I got on it.”
Luisa bobbed on her toes, her movement and her smile revealing her
excitement.

She leaned down and gave Luisa a kiss on the
top of her head, just to the front of her sweet-smelling ponytail.
“It’s a project you should be very proud of. I know Mrs. Bakewell
is going to love it.”

Monica moved to the front door and Luisa
grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “See you Saturday,
right?”

Monica did a quick mental calculation. “No.
Remember we went to the movies last Saturday, so we don’t see each
other this weekend.”

A fleeting pouty lip was the only indication
the news bothered the girl, then back to her smile. Someday, she’d
have a happy daughter and she prayed she’d be just like Luisa.
Someday.

Monica had just closed the door behind her
and released the knob when it opened again. Carlos stood in the
doorway. Her heart immediately leapt into her throat. She hadn’t
even known he was home this evening.

His mouth curled in a lazy smile and he
leaned one broad shoulder against the doorjamb. He cleared his
throat and gave his head a shake, driving his hair back from his
forehead. “Hey, I have a question for you.”

A question about the Big Sister program, most
likely. Well, she’d be happy to answer any question he had since
he’d been so much more welcoming as of late. “Anything.”

“Would you go out with me?”

Monica stared at him, suddenly breathless. A
million daydreams over the last week had begun this way. Had she
lost track of reality for a moment? Her fingers ached to plow
through his dark wavy strands, brush against his full lips and poke
into the adorable dimples that only revealed themselves when he
smiled.

“I – uh … what?”

He chuckled, humored by her indecision.
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

“Easy….?” Not only was the man beautiful, but
his voice, so deep and rumbly, and its exotic accent made her want
to do things she’d never considered doing with any other man. In
fact, it was because she found him so attractive that it pained her
so to say, “No.”

Which prompted a delighted grin from him. “So
you
do
plan to be easy for me, is that it?”

Monica let a small gasp escape her lips.
She’d led him to the wrong conclusion. “No! I mean, no, I can’t go
out with you.”

Carlos’ eyebrows joined together in a frown,
his eyes squinting. “I see.”

In fairness to him, Monica suspected he
didn’t hear those words very often, at least not from a woman.

His study of her continued. “I guess I got
the impression when you …. When we …” He cleared his throat and
gave his head a shake again.

She felt her face warming as she remembered
their kiss on the picnic table. She had to admit it was rather
strange. How many times had she dreamed of going out with Carlos?
Although most of her daydreams didn’t involve tame, civilized dates
with Carlos – more hot carnal moments than anything else. Her face
and neck grew hot as her daydreams and the reality of the man
himself, intersected.

She swept her gaze across his face, landing
on his eyes. “It’s just that I’m Luisa’s Big Sister. You’re, of
course, her brother. It wouldn’t be right if we developed a dating
relationship. We need to keep it platonic, you know, for her
sake.”

There, she’d done it. She rejected Carlos’s
request for a date. And it even sounded reasonable, too.
Professional.

He looked at her with an amused expression.
“You’re turning me down because you think my little
hermana
wouldn’t approve of us?”

Monica nodded. “Not only that. It’s really
important to me to do a good job with this. I don’t want to break
the Big Sister rules and mess up the rapport I have with Luisa by
going out with her brother.”

Carlos eyed her. “You’re a real by-the-rules
type, huh?”

Monica felt a heat develop in her cheeks and
she knew the embarrassing flush of red would soon follow. “Yes.
Always. You’re not though, I suppose?”

Carlos’ laughter was so deep and wicked it
brought to mind some unbidden visions of her and Carlos, alone in a
sweat-soaked bed, breaking all the rules of her guarded and
sheltered life. She mumbled, “I wouldn’t want to do anything your
mother would disapprove of either.”

He let out a breath in an amused snort. “My
sister? My mother? I’m a grown man, Monica. I’ve been making my own
decisions for a while now.”

Emotions battled within her. Didn’t he
realize it was difficult for her to say no to him? To turn her back
on her fantasies and let her responsible side be front and
center?

He reached out and locked her hands, now
trembling with uncertainty in his own. He lifted them to his face
and kissed them while he stared into her eyes. “I’d like to take
you out to dinner. Talk awhile. Get to know you better. I’m not
asking for a commitment, and I’m not asking my family for
permission.” He brushed his lips over the backs of her knuckles,
and she felt a trail of desire dive-bomb to her stomach. “What’s
the harm in saying yes?”

Before she knew what her traitorous mouth was
doing, she whispered, “Yes,” and leaned in for a kiss, which Carlos
was only too happy, by all appearances, to deliver. Her heart
responded by doubling its pace, and her knees grew shaky,
threatening not to hold her weight.

“Saturday night,” he whispered while their
faces were still close. She nodded. He walked her to her car,
waited till she buckled her seatbelt, then he leaned in for one
last pulse-racing kiss. He pushed the door closed with a wave.

When had it happened? When had her common
sense left her? True, she didn’t want to upset Mrs. Garcia or
Luisa. True, she didn’t want to break the rules of her volunteer
organization and harm the job she was doing. But those weren’t the
only reasons she’d said no in the first place.

She had never been out with a man like
Carlos. Dark, handsome, dangerous. Not even close. Their worlds
were universes apart. She had no experience in her tame, calm
existence with the Carloses of the world. And the thought of
spending an entire evening with him put her out of her comfort
zone.

Would she be safe with him? Or, once she was
out with him, would she want to throw safe out the window?

Black. White. Khaki. An occasional red.

Monica never realized her wardrobe was so
boring. Probably because she rarely thought about her clothes, one
way or the other. She dressed for comfort and by habit. If she
found an outfit she liked that felt and looked good, she’d reach
for it in her closet again and again. But tonight she wanted
something different. Tonight was her date with Carlos, and none of
her regular clothes were right. She wanted something colorful,
flattering and just a touch daring. Something that gave her
wow-factor. Because Carlos deserved to dine with a woman who had at
least as much wow-factor as he did.

No, she wouldn’t think about that. She would
steer clear of thoughts about why he asked her out in the first
place, when he could be with any woman he wanted. And she would
definitely steer clear of picturing in her vivid imagination the
scores of fashion-model women he’d most likely dated in his past.
Picturing those thin, gorgeous, worldly women walking at Carlos’s
side would serve absolutely no purpose at all.

She sighed and looked back in her closet.
Time to call in reinforcements.

Monica sat in her living room, tapping her
foot and staring at the clock. Two hours till date time.

A minivan screeched to a halt in her driveway
and Monica couldn’t help her relieved smile. If anyone could help
her with her wardrobe shortcomings, it was Barbie. She, of the
weekly shopping expeditions. She, who could rattle off designer
names like Monica could recite the last few years’ Best Actor
Nominees.

The door flung open and Barbie steamrolled
in, carrying Mae, with Spencer hanging on to her free hand. When he
saw Monica, he skipped over and threw himself against her knees,
hugging tight.

“Spence, don’t knock your aunt over, honey,”
Barbie said as she set Mae on the floor and extracted her daughter
from a puffy lavender snowsuit.