Matilda was on the other side of the ice, resting her arms on the edge. Her oversized hoodie bunched around her waist, highlighting the round curve of her hips and ass. The other skaters were clearly eating up every single word she was saying. Morons.
Join the back of the moron line, buddy.
At least she had her back to me so she couldn’t see me staring.
My phone buzzed, dragging my attention away from my partner’s perfect ass. It was one of theDirty Dancingproducers. I clicked accept and held the phone to my ear, trying to ignore the rush of nerves tightening in my chest after a couple weeks of silence.
“Hi, Jeff. Great to hear from you.” I stood and weaved through the seats.
“Hey, Luca. How are you holdingup?”
“Good. How about you?”
“All good here. Apologies for not getting back to you sooner.Your agent has been chasing us, but we just needed to line up a few things.”
The “few things” they “needed to line up” was code for how they “wanted to make sure I would keep myself in check.”
“No worries—I understand,” I said, although the pleasantries tasted sour on my tongue.
“We’re in London this week to meet the potential female lead. Do you think you could make it for a script reading?”
Hallelujah.
A weight lifted off my shoulders as I dragged a palm across my face. “Definitely. When would you like me there?”
“It’s a stopover, and she can only do it on Friday night. I’ve checked the show schedule, and the final isn’t until Saturday evening, so that should beOK?”
My steps slowed, and I paused.
Friday night was the end-of-season press event—the partner to the one I’d missed at the start, the one I’d stood Matilda up at. We’d moved our takeout night to Thursday so we could both attend the second one together.
I couldn’t miss this press event. Not again.
He must have read my pause as a hesitation. “It’s the only time she can do it, so we can’t move the time.”
“We have a press event on Friday.”
“When I spoke to the producer, he said it wasn’t mandatory.”
Fucking Mark.
Pushing through the double doors, I exited the rink and paced toward our dressing room.
The show would have been for nothing if I couldn’t attend this reading and lost my opportunity to secure the role. And Jeff was right: It wasn’t a required event, so the channel wouldn’t care.
But Matilda would.
I’m just so happy you’re going to be acting again—doing something you love.
For fuck’s sake, I needed the part. Skipping the script reading to attend an optional event wasn’t the action of someone who wanted the role.
But Matilda had had to face the last event by herself, and just because my goal was within reach didn’t mean hers was. She also needed to win the show.
I pinched the bridge of my nose as images of my mother played through my mind. Her shaking hands, the shadows underneath her eyes, the way she struggled to swallow.
My mother wasdying.
And this script reading could be my only opportunity to make her proud one final time.
