“Do you want to be a star, Mr. Brewster?”
“Oh gosh, no. But I don’t mind being your plus one.” He leaned over and kissed me on my cheek.
When the driver pulled up in front of the Manhattan Plaza, we dashed from the car into the building. The night guard on duty nodded, but didn’t look up from the book he was reading.
The elevator ride to our floor was filled with flirtatious glances and a few stolen kisses. Kirk paused outside my door as I unlocked it.
“I wish this night didn’t have to end,” Kirk said.
“Me neither. This was totally my Cinderella fantasy. I look gorgeous, and a handsome prince came dressed in a tux fit for the gods.” Kirk smiled. “Where did you get that tux?”
“I borrowed it from Johnny. He had one that was a bit too big on him, sitting in the back of his closet for years. Lucky me, it was the perfect fit. Well, it’s tighter than I normally wear clothes.”
“The fit is impeccable. It practically looks like you were sewn into it.”
“It feels like I was sewn into it, too.”
“I know that feeling,” I admitted. “Trust me, if my makeup and hairstylist hadn’t helped zipped me up, I don’t know if I would have made it to the party.”
“Oh, really?” Kirk said with a mischievous smile creeping across his face. “Need help unzipping your dress?”
“Why, Mr. Brewster,” I started in my best SouthernGone with the Windaccent. “I do declare. Are you trying to see my back?”
“Of course not, Ms. Saunders,” he replied in a pretty pathetic Brett Butler impersonation. “I want you to know my services are available should you need them.”
“Well, I think I need your services,” I said as I opened the door to my apartment.
I didn’t bother closing the door because Kirk would, and he was right behind me.
Chapter 30
FirstSundayinJune
I sat in the chair in my dressing room as Carlos did his magic. We’d finished a matinee, and I had two hours before I had to be walking the red carpet at the Tony Awards. I opened an eye to see how things were progressing. I’d spent a lot of time staring at myself in a mirror, amazed by what Carlos could pull off. He had a way of taking this Iowa girl and making her look like a Broadway star, which I guess I was now.
“Calm down,” Gladys said, crocheting on the couch. In February, she’d taken up crocheting as a hobby during her downtime. Gladys’ hooks move quickly as yarn came together in a knot pattern while Carlos worked his magic on me. “I know you’re a bundle of nerves. But you’re fidgeting, which will make Carlos’ job harder.” I looked down at my right hand. I hadn’t even realized how twitchy I’d been. I took a deep breath and forced my hand to relax.
There was a knock on my door. Without waiting for someone to say, “come in,” Serafina poked her head into my dressing room. “I just got off the phone with the award show’s director. We’d hoped they’d reconsider, but your Tony Award category is immediately after our number. The director said you’ll have maybe ninety seconds, but probably more like eighty.”
“That’s longer than most of my quick-changes in the show,” I joked.
Carlos tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows while looking at me in the mirror. I didn’t need him to say anything to know what was running through his head at that moment. I looked at myself now and wondered how the team could take me out of my costume and get me looking like this again in a little over a minute.
“Don’t worry, Serafina,” Gladys said from her seat on the couch, “we’ll have her ready when they call her name.”
“If,” I said suddenly, “If they call my name.”
Sure, the pundits thought I was a shoo-in for the award. But never accept a Tony Award until your name is called. In all honesty, it was easier to tell myself repeatedly that it was not likely to happen. I was in the category with three other fantastic actors. As far as I was concerned, all of us deserved it. The nominees in my category had a private brunch last weekend to get to know one another. I’d seen some of them around the community, but I hadn’t had a chance to get to know them as people.
“I know you’re protecting your ego,” Gladys said, “but you’re going to win. I have a nose for these things.”
“Although I thank you for your confidence,” I said, “I don’t want to put the cart before the horse. The last thing I want is to assume I’m going to win, then be shocked on national television when I lose. If, and when, I hear my name, I’ll be surprised.”
“Okay,” Serafina said, clearly letting us know that this was a conversation she hadn’t planned on being in the middle of. “I need to check in with the rest of the cast. Your car will be here at six-thirty on the nose. Please make sure you’re at the backstage door. The pickup window to get you to Radio City is tight, so don’t be late.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” I said. Serafina shook her head and closed the door.
“Now, stop talking. I need to work on your lips,” Carlos instructed me. I did as commanded.
