Page 20 of East

But I hold out hope. All it takes is one moment in the right place at the right time. The big hotels on the Strip are always looking for new shows, and I just need one of their scouts to dumpster dive into the slummy-ass theater I rent out for my show. Once they see the house act, they’ll be sold.

But that hasn’t happened yet. It’s been the better part of five years. And I don’t know how much longer I can do this.

I think the biggest audience I’ve ever had was about a year ago. I caught a huge wedding party at the right time on the night of their rehearsal dinner, and they each brought a plus-one. I had nearly forty people in the audience that night. I felt like I was the king of the world. Pretty pathetic, right? Copperfield draws in crowds of thousands every night. I got forty and it was a career highlight.

Oh well. I check my watch. I guess it’s showtime.

Can’t keep my three audience members waiting.

I walk out onto the stage to tepid applause. It’s a smaller than normal crowd tonight, which is saying something. A grand total of eight bodies in the crowd. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo.

I scan the crowd. Lots of people wearing T-shirts and shorts—par for the course since it’s perpetually summer in Vegas—including a family with two kids that are way too young to be up this late. But then my eyes stop as they land on a beautiful woman in the front row of the theater. She’s wearing a sleek crimson evening gown, smoking a cigarette from a long holder like Cruella de Vil. Pouty lips, long eyelashes, and a shock of red hair that would shame Little Orphan Annie. And she’s covered in head to two in red gemstones—rubies, maybe?

I get through the show, and I’m hoping the woman in the gown will volunteer for the house act. But she doesn’t and I end up doing it on one of the other audience members. The kids in the family of four raised their hands, but I wanted to spare the parents from thinking one of their children was crushed by a giant plywood house, even momentarily.

“Thank you, ladies and gentleman! You’ve been a great crowd!” I wave at them. “Please tell your friends about Aus Waverly, the Wonderful Whiz!”

Yes, that’s my stage name. Now, I didn’t consider that “whiz” is a slang for piss.

Not that it matters. None of these people will tell their families about me. They’ll forget about me the same way you forget about the oil change light in your car the second you’re parked.

The crowd departs, and I walk into the stage-left wing of the theater and grab a drink of water. These shows always leave me parched.

“Excellent show, Mr. Waverly.”

I nearly choke on my water. No one’s back here. I’m the only one in the theater. I have a non-union stage manager, and he always ducks out the second the show concludes. His only job is to drop the house and work a few light cues.

I turn around toward the silklike voice. It’s the woman from the audience, the one wearing the long gown. She’s even more beautiful up close.

Did she walk right up onto the stage? There’s a single cordoned-off staircase leading from the audience to the stage, but she must not have seen the sign saying it was for emergencies only. Or she ignored it.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’re not supposed to be here.”

“Oh, I think I’m precisely where I’m supposed to be, Mr. Waverly.” She offers a gloved hand. “My name is Rouge Montrose. Do you have time for a quick word?”

Fuck that bitch. Rouge Montrose.

Not just for what she made me do in Vegas—though mostly for that—but also for killing herself and leaving me the sole person to attend to the Jade Sanctum while I’d much rather be romancing Thea Storm right now.

Instead, Wick fucking Blackwood has left his post at the bar of the West and is now seated next to her in East.

My blood is boiling.

If it were a patron, I wouldn’t mind. If it were any other employee of mine, I wouldn’t mind.

That’s a lie. I would mind, but I wouldn’t be full of rage like I am right now.

Who the hell is attending to West? I glance back for a minute. Leo has taken up the helm.

Okay, that’s fine for now. But that doesn’t change the fact that Wick is going after Thea and⁠—

Shit! He just touched her.

Okay. He shook her hand.

That’s all he did.

For now.