Page 36 of Absolute Certainty
He might’ve been seeing things, but he was almost positive that Sahar noticed him because her already massive smile grew tenfold during a specific ensemble track. And the woman didn’t believe she was sunshine in human form?
Sure, theatre actors had to smile and come alive, but that wasn’t the point.
The point was, Sahar stood out to Jay unlike any other performer he’d ever seen, and the intensity of that realization jarred him. She was so fucking enchanting, moving across the stage with a honed grace that made him want to topple over. He’d heard bits of the tracks while listening to the Original Broadway Cast Recording album, but her voice was something else entirely live.
The show itself was surprisingly engaging, too. He’d only ever seen one version ofPride and Prejudice, andMidnights at Pemberleywas like its rebellious, wild little sister. It heightened all the emotions of the contained longing from the book and set everything on fire.
Jay was also surprised by Ethan’s range, well and truly—he knew that Ethan was gifted as an actor, but he hadn’t seen him in a theatrical production. There was a pained look in his eyes during one scene in particular where, for a split second, Jay wondered how his capacity would bring to life the role of Henry Palmer inEvery Speck of Dust.
If that story even crossed beyond the pitching process again.If if if.
During another number, Sahar and Naomi had left behind their more modest costumes for leotards and more skin. When Sahar came into view, his breath caught in his throat, thankful that loud applause and music would allow him to hide it from the people sitting beside him.
What dumbass part of him thought it was wise to willingly spend a little over two hours gazing at the woman he had a thing for?
He felt like such a jackass, gawking at her perfect body. Butfuck, she was unreal, breathtaking, and beautiful in every way. He watched her character, Jane, timidly flirt with Bingley, and when Sam’s hand slowly caressed her forearm—the spot where he noticed her crow tattoo was now covered—jealousy shot through Jay’s spine.
He wanted to know what her skin would feel like under his fingertips.
He wanted to ask her about her crow tattoo and learn of its importance.
He wanted to tell her that he had one, too.
Then there was the flower tattoo that peeked out on her shoulder when she wore tank tops. He could only see parts of it—a hydrangea or something similar, if he had to guess.
Just then, Sam—er, Bingley—moved Jane into a secluded corner and brushed his lips across her cheek.Fuck. Five seconds ago, Jay would’ve killed for a chance to simply touch her, and now, he’d give everything to have his lips on her.
Coming here was a bad, dangerous idea. He was a goner. What if he faked an illness and left during intermission? Shit, though, he wouldn’t do that to Sahar. She was so supportive of his writing, and he needed to be there for her, too.
He flicked his eyes toward Darcy and Elizabeth, who’d been arguing in the middle of the stage. Better.Focus on them.
But Sahar, every part of his mind, body, and soul called out. He turned his gaze again, and his heart nearly flared. Jane was sitting on Bingley’s lap, giggling quietly—the two of them worlds away in character, lost in a daze.
Now, Jay wanted her on his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck, her lips at his ear, his arms vining her waist. Hewanted to be the one making her laugh.
Who the fuck was he, thinking like this? What was this woman doing to him? Why couldn’t he have been an actor like his mom and sister? Then maybe he’d have a chance to play pretend with her—satisfy all his selfish desires, and then leave them at bay. But that wasn’t how acting worked, either.
He looked down for a fleeting second, and she was moving farther into the wings with Sam, their eyes glued to each other, bodies close. A more upbeat melody began to play, and the entire ensemble returned, Sahar and Sam included.
The lights dimmed, and Elizabeth came center stage. The intimacy of the lighting hinted that he likely wouldn’t be seeing Sahar for the rest of this number, so the flames in him temporarily cooled. The scene passed—a heated, extraordinarily well-directed moment between Elizabeth and Darcy—then, the curtains closed, and the lights came on.
Intermission.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, spotting a text from Sahar.
SAHAR
Christian and I were supposed to have lunch during our break, but he’s not feeling well. Would you like to join me instead? If you don’t have plans afterward! No pressure.
No pressure. Maybe he could make up an excuse.Sorry, I have to get home, Ellie’s waiting for me.But she wasn’t. She wouldn’t be waiting for him all day and until tomorrow morning. He had no reason to say no except that he was sure spending more time with Sahar would result in falling head over fucking heels in love with her.
As if he’d ever say no to her.
JAY
Sure thing. You’re excellent, btw!
SAHAR
