As I pull open the heavy oak door, I catch Henderson, fist raised in preparation to knock.
"Tabby, are you okay?"
"Mandy, gotta run." I disconnect and drop the phone down from my ear. "Yes?"
I don't move. He doesn't move.
This is going to get old real fast.
"What do you want?" It's almost as if I've forgotten that I was on my way to see him. "Why are you here?"
His gaze drops, and I follow it down. Nothing remarkable about his Adidas sneakers. His feet shuffle slightly as he shifts weight from side to side. "I, um, wanted to make sure you were settled."
I fold my arms over my chest. "I am, no thanks to you."
He looks up at the door and then from one side of the porch to another. "Did you get this through Andrews Realty?"
"Yeah."
"The people I put you in contact with? Right. I'm glad I was of no help." I'm gifted a trademark eye roll.
Dammit.
"I mean, it's not like you met me at the airport or got me settled in."
"We had two shows today. I couldn't leave. I believe Grayson suggested you come in during the week? I asked him to ask you."
"Why didn't you just ask me?"
He shrugs, but at least he's now looking at my eyes.
"Would you have come to pick us up?"
He doesn't have to say anything, because his suddenly dropped gaze tells me it all.
"I see. Well, Henderson, I can be a professional if you can. But you owe me one thing."
His jaw clenches as he meets my gaze. "What's that?"
"An explanation for why you want me to change parts. Why you demoted me."
He shrugs. He's going to sprain his shoulders shrugging that much. "It makes sense. Really, it does. When I suggested you play Charity … I wasn't thinking clearly. Because of that night … I was letting my personal life cloud my judgment. Otherwise, I'd've seen this option sooner. And truly, it'll be for the best. We've got a lot riding on this show. It's totally sold out, even with the additional performance added in."
They're using me for my name. They don't care about me.I can't stop the thoughts from flooding my mind.
"Yes, I'm aware of what I'm bringing to the table."
"No, I don't think you are." He puts his hands on my arms, trying to make me focus on what he's saying. Except all I want to focus on is the fact that he's touching me.
It's been a long three months.
"We're doing this show as a workshop. It's a special thing, and if the powers that be like it, it'll hopefully be on track to go to Broadway. So it needs to be perfect. And now that Grayson's brought it up, I see that you're not perfect for Charity. No matter how much I want you to sing ‘A Million Dreams.’ I was stupid for letting my personal feelings get in the way. I could have ruined everything for The Edison."
"Instead you'd rather ruin everything between us?"
His hands drop from my arms. I feel cold where his touch had been. "There is no 'us,' Tabitha. There can't be. I thought you understood that. I almost mucked things up enough. It's why we shouldn't be involved. I'm sorry, but I can't let the theatre down."
I feel as if he's punched me in the gut.
