Page 62 of Out of the Gold

“Well done.” Charles reaches for his wallet as I get out onto the sidewalk of the bustling city. People dash by us as rush hour approaches, which is nearly ten at night according to our body clocks. “Want me to wait with you?”

“Nah. But I’m not ready to go inside yet. Let’s walk around the block.”

Knowing he needs to get rid of some pent-up energy, we walk around in the city I now call home. The vibe, which is so different from Italy, soaks into my bones. “I’ve missed this place,” I admit.

“I like it here, too.”

I stop as it hits me. I don’t know where he lives now. “Where’s your home?”

“LA.”

I nod. If our relationship’s going to continue, we’ll have to nail down our living situations. Well, if he gets this role, he’ll be in New York City. Smiling, we approach the main entrance to the building.

I touch his forearm. “Want company now?”

“No, I’m good. I have to do this by myself.”

His reaction stings, but I get it. He needs to prove himself—to himself. “I’ll text you my address, which isn’t too far from here. Come over when you’re done.”

“Thanks.”

I stretch onto my tippy-toes and kiss his cheek. “Break a leg, Charles.”

“I will.” He takes a few steps toward the front of the building, then turns around. He bellows, “You’re the best, Goldie!”

I kiss my hand and blow my good wishes toward him. “Knock ’em dead!”

He disappears into the building.You can do it. Clutching the overnight bag, I hail a cab and arrive at my Upper Eastside townhouse ten minutes later. I give the doorman a hug, tell him that Chase Wright will soon be arriving, and go into my apartment.

The atmosphere in here’s stale since I haven’t been here in a month. I turn on the air and grab the only item in my fridge, which is a lonely bottle of water. When Charles gets back, we’ll have a couple hours before heading back to JFK, so I order a food delivery. Chinese. Not something you get in Italy.

I wander around, touching my things. My dad’s piano takes center stage, although my lessons ended miserably when I was eight. Discarded instruments likewise have turned into decorations—a violin, flute, and even a pair of drumsticks. In my bedroom, I fluff my floral comforter, images of what Charles and I might do in here soon dancing around my mind.

Sighing, I return to the living room and stretch out on my couch. Still beingsanspanties reminds me of where they are right now. Even though it’s late in Amalfi, I’m too wound up to catch a catnap. I FaceTime my parents.

“Melody, we didn’t expect to hear from you for another couple of weeks. How are you? Is everything okay?”

“Hi, Mom. Yes, I’m good.”

I twirl a lock of my hair. “How’s King?”

Mom bites her bottom lip. “He was pretty bad there for a while, but he’s all good now. He’s dating a woman from his show.”

I smile. Something we have in common. “That’s nice.”

Mom’s eyes search the screen. “Where are you?”

“I’m actually home. For only a couple of hours. Charles had an audition come up in New York City, so we flew in this afternoon and we’re leaving in a couple of hours.”

“Charles?”

“Yes.” She doesn’t know about my boyfriend, and I’m dying to clue her in. “You know of Charles. I grew up with him.”

Mom’s eyebrows furrow. “Do you mean Chase Wright?”

My head bobs. “Yeah. But I call him Charles. Chase is his stage name.”

“You’re dating him?”

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