Winter.
I exhale in relief and swipe the screen. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“Hey, Hunt,” Winter says in a friendly tone. A forced, friendly tone.
Something’s off.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her. “Hold on, I’m going to find some privacy.”
But Murph jumps up off the bed. “I’ll be back. You want anything from the tavern next door?”
“Chicken burger and salad,” I say to him.
He gives me a thumbs up and disappears out the door.
I wait until the door clicks closed before I return my attention to the phone. “Talk to me, Princess.”
She lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s a good thing. Really.”
“What is?”
“My news.”
Dread shoots through me.She’s leaving.
“News?” I try to say the word lightly.
“Yeah. My manager called a little while ago. I was on my way home from visiting Les Anderson.”
“That’s great you saw Les. How is he?” Better to focus on the innocuous part of her story first.
“He’s good. Really good. He and I worked all afternoon on the musical. He was so incredibly helpful and supportive. And I was so excited when I left his studio, and then Pat called me. I tried to tell him about what I was working on, but he said none of that mattered because he had just snagged an audition slot for the role of a lifetime for me.”
My breath catches in my throat. “Summerset Nights.”
A long beat of silence follows.
“Yes,” she finally says, her voice neutral and giving me no fucking clue what she’s feeling. “Summerset Nights.”
I force a smile onto my face even though she’s not here to see it. “That’s good news. Right?”
“I don’t know. I mean, yes, it should be. And six months ago, I would have killed for this opportunity. But…” Her voice sounds so sad when she adds, “My mama was the one who took me to see Summerset Nights when I was a little girl. It was her dream for me, and somewhere along the way, it became my dream, too. But now I don’t know what I want.”
“When would you need to audition?”
“That’s the thing. Pat arranged it so that I can do the audition from here. New Orleans. I can tape it and send it in.”
I don’t like the feeling that sweeps through me at this news. It’s relief that she’s not leaving yet. Which is fucking selfish of me. Because if Winter’s dream is to play this role, then she deserves to.
I mentally punch myself in the nuts for my selfishness, and then I say to her, “I know that if you want this, you’ll make a kick-ass audition tape. And don’t let that asshole stop you from trying, either.”
She releases what feels like a pent-up breath. “Thank you, Hunt. I knew you’d make me feel better. I think…I think I should go for it.”
“Good,” I say. “I think that’s awesome. And I’ll be home tomorrow night after the game,” I tell her. “I can help you prepare if you need me to.”
“I don’t think I can wait until then,” she says. “Do you have a few minutes now to hear what I’m thinking?”
I settle back against the hotel pillows. “Of course. Lay it on me.”
