“Um, I’m going to go check on the bottles on the balcony,” Nathan finally said.
He flexed his arms to lower himself off the counter.
“You don’t have to go,” Caroline exclaimed. Her stomachlurched as she tried to imagine approaching any of the other groups at the party.
“I think I need to take a lap,” Nathan said, face stiffening. “I’ll catch you later.”
He hurried off, soon enveloped by the crowd. Caroline remained on the counter alone. He’d been so nice since she started working with Rima backstage. Was it just because he was interested in her? She couldn’t imagine kissing someone she didn’t also want to talk to, but she seemed like a decided minority in that approach.
Caroline dumped out a few more abandoned cups in the sink and decided she’d just clean up until someone else came to talk to her. What would Adrian do in this situation? He’d probably just leave if he wasn’t enjoying the party. She could just leave and meet everyone at dinner, like Rima. That’s what she’d do as soon as she’d filled a trash bag. She opened the cabinets under the sink and rummaged through the debris until she found one.
“Thanks, Caroline,” said the assistant stage manager, who lived in the apartment, coming into the kitchen with a big sack of ice. “You didn’t have to do that!” Her eyes were squinty though, which tended to happen when people thought Caroline had done something weird. Caroline cringed.
“You know me,” she weakly joked. “I see a table and I organize it.”
“You can take the girl out of the props department but can’t take the props department out of the girl, I guess? Anyway, no rush, but Sophia just said she wanted to talk to you.”
Caroline hefted the full bag of bottles and empty cups. The stage manager hadn’t spoken to her all week. Maybe she wanted to apologize for leaving her out of theprogram. “Okay, sure. If I don’t see you again before dinner, thanks for hosting.”
The other woman smiled through tight lips. “Thanks for coming.”
Adrian expected the apartment to be empty when he got back, because Tom normally worked Sunday nights, but his roommate was crashed out on the couch,Drag Racereruns blaring on the television. Empty bottles and dirty cups were stacked on the kitchen table and counter.
“What’s going on?” Adrian warily asked as he hung his coat on the hook by the door.
Tom didn’t verbally respond but instead lifted a wrinkled sheet of paper aloft over the back of the couch.
Adrian plucked it from his hand. It was addressed to the staff at the restaurant and informed them that the establishment was closing effective immediately. Final paychecks would be mailed, someone had added in ballpoint pen.
“Shit,” Adrian said.
“Yeah,” Tom said, voice blurry with drink. “That about covers it. I had some of the guys over to celebrate unemployment.”
Adrian leaned against the rolled arm of the couch, because Tom’s legs were taking up all the other space. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to some auditions in New York this week. If anything takes, I might try to couch surf over there.”
“This week?” Adrian demanded, eyebrows shooting up.
“Well, yeah. I can’t make rent next month. Couch surfing there is as reasonable as couch surfing here, right?”
“Shit,” Adrian said again.
“There’s still that St-Germain left in the cabinet,” Tom helpfully informed him.
Adrian rubbed a palm over his face. He could sleep in his studio, he supposed. And shower at the gym. He was paid up through the end of the year there, and he had the studio space through May. He got up, considered the St-Germain, and decided he was still better than that. He returned to the couch. Tom pulled his legs back and made room for him.
“Sorry,” Tom said when Adrian collapsed into the seat next to his roommate.
“Not your fault.”
“Any luck with your old gallery?”
Adrian wordlessly shook his head.
Tom sighed. “Sorry,” he said again. “Do you think you’ll move in with Caroline?”
Adrian made an angry noise of rejection. “I’ve been dating her forfour days. No.”
