“If I was a shrink, I’m sure I would have a field day with that dream. You’re like an analyst’s fantasy.”
I shot her a dirty look and wrinkled my brow. “You don’t stay in show business too long before you develop enough neuroses to need a whole team of shrinks.”
“Preach, girl.”
We got our check, paid, and walked back to the theater. We talked more about Katherine’s schoolgirl crush on Mr. Darrin Becker, esquire. She told me they never dated because he didn’t talk enough for her.
“I’m sorry, but I need a guy who can uphold his end of the conversation,” Katherine said. “He doesn’t need toout-talkme, but he needs to converse in more than monosyllabic responses.”
“And why am I letting you set me up on a blind date again?” I asked.
Katherine shrugged and said, “Because you’re that desperate.”
“I’m really not that desperate,” I fought back.
“Oh really? Should I call Mr. Married Man for you?”
“Okay, so maybe I am that desperate,” I said with a little more humility. “If nothing else, it will be a good meal.”
We got back to the theater and the rest of the afternoon went by in a flash. San Nicolás reported that Eldridge was on board with the new direction the creative team was taking. Eugene audibly sighed in relief when he heard the good news. Part of me wondered what it would take to get the three younger people to stand up and leave the show. I didn’t want them to, but I had to wonder how much they could take.
The rest of the afternoon was spent going over the new script with San Nicolás now that he was back and could see and hear everything. The show sounded like it had a clear narrative arc, which was a definite positive improvement.
After work, I walked home and ran into Kirk on the streets. He was juggling a bunch of recycled bags filled with groceries.
“Hey, stranger,” I said as I approached him.
“Oh,” he said, spinning his head to see who was talking. “Hey, Erika, how are you doing?” he asked. His dimples flared.
“I’m doing well. The show’s moving along, so this was an overall good day.” I took stock of how awkward he was walking with all the bags, so I offered to help.
“No thanks, I got ’em,” Kirk said.
“I didn’t think you were one ofthoseguys,“ I said, narrowing my eyes at him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kirk asked.
“Well, you clearly need help, but won’t ask a woman for help.”
“I’m notthatguy. I really don’t need help.“ He almost tripped over a crack in the sidewalk as he said that.
“Mmm-hmmm,” I started. “Want to rephrase your answer?”
“Fine. Would you please help me, Erika?”
“Gladly,” I said and grabbed a couple of bags. My body language may have gloated, but I kept my tongue in check, which is more than I can say for myself on a typical day.
We chitchatted about nothing, and I told him about the book. He was surprised to find out a book had been written about me without my knowledge.
“Well, the book is about the show. I happened to be a large part of that show.” He nodded and encouraged me to go on with my story. We talked all the way into the building and up the elevator. He let himself into his apartment, and I handed him the two bags I’d been carrying.
“Would you like to join Carissra and me for dinner?” Kirk asked.
“I wish I could, but I have a date tonight.”
“Another one?” Kirk asked.
“Excuse me?” My body tensed, and I was ready to throw down…metaphorically.
