Wicked White
Page 63When the car is out of reach, I stop running and stand in the street. Horns blare all around me as the cabbies curse at me to get out of the way, but I can’t make myself move, knowing the man I love is running away from me yet again. Why would he come here and then leave without seeing me?
Then it hits me. He did see me . . . and I’m sure he’s thinking the worst about Shane kissing me. It’s not what he thinks.
My legs wobble as all the anger, sadness, and guilt overwhelm me at once. I need to talk to him and explain. He needs to know that this thing between us isn’t over for me.
I fish my cell out of my back pocket and dial his number. On the forth ring it goes directly into a voice mail without a greeting. “Ace, I know you saw me. It’s not what you think. Come back. Let’s talk. Let me explain. Call me, please.”
It’s a long shot to call him, because he’s never answered any of my other calls, but I have to at least try. I need to put the ball back in his court. Now all I can do is continue to wait.
IRIS
Ms. Easton?” the male voice on the other end of my cell asks.
“Yes, this is Iris,” I reply, wondering who the man is, because the voice I don’t recognize at all.
“This is Mark Talsman. I’m directing Forgiving Lesley, and I would like to have you come back in and read for me. I know you auditioned for Sylvia, but I want you to read for the lead role of Lesley.”
“Are you there?” Mr. Talsman asks.
“Yes! Yes, I’m here, and yes, I would love to read for the role of Lesley,” I answer, unable to contain my giddiness.
He chuckles slightly. “Great. Be back at the theater at ten sharp, and make sure you bring that same moving performance with you.”
“Yes sir. I will. Thank you so much.”
After I thank him again, he ends the call and I find myself twirling like a lunatic in the middle of a busy Manhattan sidewalk.
I can’t believe it. My dream—it’s actually happening.
I burst into tears, heartbroken that I can’t thank Ace in person for coming into my life, shaking the shit out of things, and making me a better performer. I owe him my gratitude, even if he doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.
Not knowing how else to reach him, I search for the only number I have to connect with him and dial it. I haven’t tried this number in two weeks—not since the day I saw him driving away from me. I used to call it daily, but every single one of my attempts went unanswered. It will probably be no different today, I just need to hear his voice. I want to share my fantastic news with him.
I pause, not knowing what else I can say, so I simply hang up. A tear leaks down my cheek. There’re so many emotions flowing through me: hurt, pain, anger, but most of all overwhelming sadness for the loss of the relationship I had with him. I thought I meant more to him. I would think what we had would at least warrant a phone call to tell me that he never wants to see me again if that’s how he truly feels, and above all else, I wonder what he came to say to me at my apartment that day but never got the chance to.
I quickly dial the next person I can’t wait to share the news with.
“What’s up, Dancing Queen?” Birdie asks excitedly before she even mutters a hello.
“I’m fabulous,” I say with a dreamy sigh.
“Okay, out with it. I’m on pins and needles here waiting. Did you get a callback from your last audition?”
“Yes!” I squeal. “But that’s not the best part.”
“What could be any better than that? Isn’t that what you’ve been dreaming of—finally landing a role on Broadway?” she asks, and my heart pounds ninety miles a minute.
“I got a callback for the lead role.” Even I can hear the excitement in my voice as I tell her my news.
“Tomorrow morning. I’m nervous as hell,” I admit. “I wish you were here for moral support.”
“Aw, me too. I would be there if I could, you know that. It’s just hard to walk away from my job at Angel’s. Tips are really adding up, and I can’t miss out on the cash. Me and Grandma need it, you know.” I can tell she’s frowning, and I want to let her off the hook by showing her I understand.
“Well, you can make it up to me. If I get the role, then I’ll pay for you and Adele to fly up and watch the show on opening night. Deal?” I ask.
“You might as well book our tickets then, because I know you’ll get it.” There’s no waver or teasing in her voice. “You got this, Iris. You were born to shine on Broadway.”
I smile, loving the fact that through all the ups and downs in my life, Birdie has always been there for me. She’s more like a sister than my best friend, and I love her to pieces. She and Adele are the only people I have left in my life who truly love me back.