Page 83 of Role Play
Pierce looked up from his phone. “What’s going on?” heasked.
None of us answered him and he sighed, rolling his eyes. “Man, you miss the first two weeks and fall all behind on the gossip.” The waitress came by, a tray of drinks balanced on her shoulder, and she set my tumbler of scotch in front of me, then continued to distribute drinks down the table, finally depositing a sweating glass of something that looked like soda in front of Lucy—but if I had to guess, I’d say it was her signature vodka and dietcoke.
“Lemme guess,” Pierce said, leaning across the table. “You’re sweet on that girl down there, right?” He lifted his dark eyebrows from behind his sunglasses and I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. Sunglasses inside. At night. It was so LA, it made me want tobarf.
My jaw clenched. Pierce seemed like a nice enough guy, but he wasn’t one of myfriends.
Jude answered in my place. “Nah, there’s a non-fraternization clause at the studio. Ash just isn’t used to coming out with the crew.” He clapped a hand to my shoulder as he took a sip of hismartini.
“Ah,” Pierce said, leaning back in his chair and gripping a beer in hand. “I see.” But he didn’t lookconvinced.
For forty minutes, I tuned out the awful karaoke and stared at the other end of the table, watching Lucy as surreptitiously as possible. Watching as she barely ate her chicken fingers. I literally saw her nibble on half of one and I think that was it. Miguel was clueless, drinking his stupid IPA and chatting with a man who was standing beside them. Wasn’t he supposed to be her wingman? Wasn’t he supposed to be watching out for her? Making sure she ate enough? Making sure no one slipped something into herdrink?
Every so often, Lucy’s eyes darted to mine, only to dip away when she found me watching her. At one point, she widened those brown eyes at me and I almost chuckled. I could practically hear her voice in my head,Would you stop staringalready?
Pierce stood from behind the table, still staring down at his phone. “I’ve gotta run,” he said, grabbing his jacket and swinging it around hisshoulders.
The group said their goodbyes as the man on the stage finished singing “Bohemian Rhapsody.” The crowd clapped, and I had to admit, he wasn’t all that bad, though no Freddie Mercury. He stumbled down off the stage and a curvy girl with jet black hair and short pin-up style bangs took centerstage.
The intro music began and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Though I’d only heard that song once before, I somehow managed to recognize it immediately. Why? Why did I knowthis?
Then it struck me. Like a shiv to the kidneys, it hit me. This time when I looked at Lucy, she was already staring at me from across the table, her eyesglossy.
That’swhat that song was. “The Man Who Got Away” fromA Star Is Born. And the girl singing was good. Not Judy good, but as Lucy would say, who the hellis?
The hauntingly crooning song serenaded us and everyone around us seemed to recede away. Melt into the background. The room was spinning. Tipping on its axis. Even though I was stone cold sober, the floor and ceiling switched places, and my heart fell into my stomach as my eyes remained fastened onto hers. And for the first time in the whole night, she didn’t look away. She didn’t shrink back from mygaze.
I drained the last of my scotch as the girl sang about wind growing colder or some shit like that. I didn’t care what the words were. I didn’t care about that song outside of the fact that it was Lucy’s song. It embodied my Lucy. And because she loved it, by proxy, so didI.
So, win her back,Brie said.Apologize. Get thegirl.
I did apologize, I wanted to scream. She made her choice. She walked away and it was clearly for the better. I might have been a shitty Dom in our scenes, but right now? The best way I can care for her is to let her walk away. Maybe a woman like her—someone who had been through so much abuse… had watched her father hit her mother—didn’t belong in this lifestyle. In my lifestyle. Before the other night, I had thought I could help her. But maybe she was better off withoutme.
Or maybe you’re justscared.
“Excuse me,” Lucy said and stood, rushing for thebathrooms.
No one at the table seemed to think twice. No one seemed to notice that we had been having a moment. No one but Jude, Marly, andNeil.
I pushed my chair back, moving to stand as Jude’s hand shot out, clasping my wrist, stopping me. He shook his head. “Don’t do it. Not here in front of the wholecrew.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Marly countered. “Go toher.”
“Uh—” Jude interrupted tapping his fingernail to the edge of my empty scotch. “That might not be a greatidea.”
“He only had one,” Marly said, gesturing at theglass.
“Onedouble. Twoscotches.”
Marly snorted. “Thanks for the mathlesson.”
I sighed and grabbed my water glass, gulping down several glugs. “You guys are talking about me like I’m not evenhere.”
“Areyou drunk?” Neilasked.
I tilted my head, giving them all a look. I’ve been drinking for years. Scotch was something you sip, not chug. I was so far from drunk that the question itself was insulting. “I’m notdrunk.”
“Tipsy?” Marlyoffered.
